Showing posts with label chester plays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chester plays. Show all posts

Tuesday, 10 October 2017

Adam and Eve (Chester) - Full Audio Recording

After a few stabs, we've put together this almost final edit of Adam and Eve, from the Drapers Play in the Chester Mystery Cycle.  The play doesn't end here - there's a time jump and we move onto Cain and Abel, which we'll edit one day.  We will possibly do one final version of these two (should we say three?) plays, telling the story of the fall of Lucifer, through to Cain and Abel as one sweep, with some cuts and changes to make a single play for audio.
Here's our thinking.
There's never not a good reason to do more versions of a thing.  Especially when so few versions exist.  If we can use these (admittedly flawed) recordings to create both an approximately 'accurate' textual rendering and then a more accessible version, then that would be great.
Also, just because the plays are presented as two pageants in these texts means very little.  The play texts themselves are so buggered about with, 'proper' form is impossible to establish except at the moment those texts were created.  We suggest that there's good evidence that these two plays were at some point three or even four separate units at some point in their life, and possibly put together as one.  There's some discontinuity between the end of the first and second play which suggests two different approaches to the creation of the world.  There's also a massive time jump in the middle of play two between the Adam and Eve section and the Cain and Abel section - with exposition in a speech from Adam to bridge the gap.  The fact that we can split the Drapers play in two for these audio versions is suggestive that at some point someone else did - and the overall shape of the Chester cycle changed enormously over the years, so nothing need be fixed.
We'd also like to do a bit of a documentary about these plays - we have two recordings (the Exploring series and these dramas) to mix together, so if we can get some talking heads and a narration together, we'll be cooking with gas.
But that's for the future.  For now, here's what has been done with The Drapers Play. You can listen to the Fall of Lucifer here.

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

The Fall of Lucifer (Chester) - Full Audio Recording

In the dim and distant past of 2013 we started a real in depth look at the Chester Plays - launching the Exploring the Chester Plays series as well as recording fuller audio productions for future release.  We've nearly caught up with ourselves.  The first five Explorings, covering plays 1 to 10, have now been archived and the first audio production has been edited.  It's not perfect, but considering how rushed the sessions were, it's turned out quite well.  Beyond a minor edit to bypass the issue of the Angels singing (sorry Mat, you ended up on the cutting room floor - we so can't do music of the period yet) it's a full recording of the text we used for Exploring in 2013 - though with more considered performances and sound to help tell the story.  It is hopefully a good introduction to the play for the student who's never seen or heard the play in full before - i.e. almost everyone on the planet.
We've recorded play two which will follow in a similar fashion, and some bits from plays 3,4 & 5 - which may be completed at a later date.
And that'll be it for a while - we're moving on from Chester for the present (though we hope to finish the Exploring sessions at some point).  We're based in East Anglia, so the N-Town play is a much more important 'cycle' to be looking at at in the future.

So, please enjoy our version of Play One of the Chester Plays - The Tanners Play covering the Fall of Lucifer.


God: Robert Crighton
Lucifer: Trevor Laver
Lightbourne: Richard Fawcett
Angels and Archangels: Helen Arbon, Neil Arbon, Adam Webster, Kevin Roychowdhury, AM Barrett, Annie Eddington.
Recorded at the Quay Theatre, Sudbury
Produced and edited by Robert Crighton

Music and Sound Effects all come from the lovely people of freesfx - http://www.freesfx.co.uk

Sunday, 3 May 2015

The Chester Plays 9 & 10 - Adoration of the Magi & Slaughter of the Innocents

It's been a long time since we held this event, but thankfully it was fully recorded, so I can recap.  The Adoration of the Magi is an incredibly short play - and there are lots of questions it raises.
Firstly the Kings, having left Herod in the previous play, rediscover the star - a continuation from play 8, where the star disappears, hence their asking for directions from Herod.  This Star has been such a mobile thing in these plays, it's an interesting question of staging.  Are there several stars about, which could be covered or uncovered at will - was the star a property carried by Angels - so that it could move among the audience, or a mixture of the two.  I can see a star on the end of a long staff, like a cross carried in a service, being carried by the Angels, so that it could be seen above heads, but be grounded to an actor.  (Or, at any rate, that's how I'd stage it!)

A few stanzas of exposition, presumably as they travel among the audience, starts the play.  They speak of the star, that it has stopped above a distant stable, of what is to come of the prophet and then finally the Kings start discussing their prospective gifts.  There is some competition between the Kings as to what they're giving and whose is the most appropriate - though it is less competitive than discursive - it is a debate, rather than a boastful argument.  The structure of the dialogue is very formal.
Each has a (broadly) a stanza to state their gift and the case for it - King 1, 2, 3.
Then another stanza for a rebuttal as to why theirs is the better gift to the others - King 1, 2, 3.
Then they each debate the three gifts together, mulling over how all three gifts are good gifts - King 1, 2, 3. Then the first King recaps that, good though these gifts are, Jesus doesn't actually need them, because he's the son of God.
Then the second points out that he can see the stable ahead, with the star above - obviously closer now.
Then the third that he can see the holy family within - closer still.
This isn't a lengthy sequence and I've laid it out above to show how formal it is.  At almost no point are the Kings named, not till briefly at the end, and whilst an actor can find little differences, they act as a unit, not as individuals.  They're debating the symbolism of their gifts, the appropriateness of them, agree as a group that they are all good gifts and finally acknowledge that their gifts are not actually needed, before moving onto the scene of action - which is presumably on a pageant wagon or scaffold.  It took this discussion of their gifts to get to the stage.
The formal structure continues.
Each King hails Jesus - King 1, 2, 3 - two stanzas each.
Mary and Joseph reply - Mary, two stanzas - Joseph - three.

And then something odd happens.

No stage direction, no cut, no indication of a move - but suddenly the Kings are being addressed by an Angel and the Holy family are no longer involved in the play.  They must have changed location because the Angel is warning the three Kings not to return to Herod, and he can't be doing so in front of Mary and Joseph as he will warn the Holy family of Herod in the next play.  Also there is no surrounding scene for the Angel appearing to the Kings - they're travelling away, going to sleep in the wilderness etc as in other plays - it is just happening.  This is in a play where, so far, shifts in location and time are indicated by direction or dialogue.  I can only conclude there is either a missing page or this was a cut to a longer play - the change in place could be effected silently, but it doesn't fit the dramaturgy of the play or the style of the play sequence at large.  And that's before we consider how incredibly short the play already is, it's not much above ten minutes long, whereas most other plays orbit the twenty/thirty minute mark.
Anyway, however it was or wasn't effected, the Angel appears and tells them not to pop back to Herod and, after a few brief lines (and a mention of their names, almost as an afterthought) they split up and go.

Play 10 - Slaughter of the Innocents
There are more questions of the overall dramaturgy of the nativity sequence raised by this play.  The play focuses mostly on Herod, his Knights and the Mothers, as makes sense.  This suggests the use of a pageant wagon or scaffold, used for both events, or for the slaughter to occur among the audience.  But there are two mini scenes with Mary and Joseph - first being warned to flee Herod, the second that it is safe to return.  These scenes suggest they are located elsewhere to the action of the main play - on a separate scaffold - to help aid the shift in focus from Herod's court (in the first warning) to the street.  From the Balaam play onwards there have been several instances where multiple places seem to be in use - where one play lends its location to another (the Mountain of the Balaam play for the Three Kings, for example).  This suggests that at the stage this text was produced that a relatively static delivery system was used - i.e. multiple wagons or scaffolds in one area, focus being directed to each in turn, with journeys between the spaces throughout, making use of the audience place.  Chester seems to have been a city that changed its staging over time, from one day to three day eventing, and a shift between a processional to a static focus could be part of that playing with form.
But back to the play.
Herod ruminates and runs with his plan - calls a Councillor to comment, who agrees it's a great idea to slaughter all children under two years of age.
He calls two soldiers to him, who, though happy to do some killing, are less keen on the killing of children.  Herod has his way.
The scene shifts, briefly to Mary and Joseph (see above), before moving to the actual slaughter.  Each version of the Innocents play, from all cycles, are different to each other in often radical ways.  This plays major variation is that one of the children killed is actually Herod's own child.  Upon this news being reported to him Herod immediately falls ill and dies, his rotten body taken to hell by a rather polite demon.
The play closes with Mary and Joseph being told by the Angel to return home.

Monday, 30 March 2015

The Chester Plays

Over the next few weeks, I'll have finally finished archiving the first five Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays events, publishing audio for the Nativity, Kings, Shepherds and Herod plays.  I've also found a wealth of video footage I'd forgotten was taken and will edit some of that together.
Not only that, but I'll be announcing dates for a return of the events, completing the cycle by the end of the year - phew!
But to celebrate finally getting this together, here's an old audio clip I found from a show I did in 2007, Medieval Mysteries.  It was a Christmas Nativity show, using sections from various mystery plays - but I opened with applicable verses from the Chester Banns.  The audio quality is terrible - I recorded it on a mini-disk player using a pair of headphones as the microphone - which goes to show how far the world has travelled in but a few years.

And, if you want to listen to the complete set of the Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays events to date then they follow after the banns on this audio player.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Pride and a Dame

I'm putting the final touches to the rehearsal script for The Pride of Life and a new project Dame Sirith. Both are being produced for the Magna Carta celebrations in Clare and we had our first read through on Sunday.
They are two very different pieces and editing them has been incredibly difficult.  The Pride of Life is the easier because it is later (mid-fourteenth Century) but even so is one of the earliest dramatic texts we have in English.  The read through was a testing ground for legibility.  Using a projector to save printing a script that was inevitably going to change, we tentatively attempted the play, stopping occasionally for clarification.  There was a certain amount of fear - many of the people in the room didn't know each other and the text was difficult - but we got to the end and nobody had died.  (Except the King of Life, of course.)  Then I mixed up the readers and we had another crack - and this time it flowed better, people had started to click into the medieval mind.  That isn't to say I was going to leave it there.  My pad was covered in notes for areas of text that weren't working, words that might need changing, sentences that we just too obscure.
I have rules for editing a play of this type, but they're not hard and fast.  The play, ultimately, is the thing - if it doesn't work, then we will make changes.  But we start with as light an edit as possible.  Broadly the rules are these.
1. Modernise and standardise the spelling where possible.  Much of the text will be clearer once the common words that exist today have been given normalised spelling.  We're not attempting original pronunciation, so the only words which might cause problems will be the rhymes at the end of lines - generally I choose the most obvious rhyme sound and follow that, but sometimes you have to put your hands up in despair and say, it just doesn't work or it will need to be changed.
2. Do not change sentence structure, syntax or grammar - unless meaning is completely mangled.  An audience will tune into the unfamiliar structure after a few minutes and the actors, through their own skill and expert understanding of the text, can signpost most confusions.  However, there are always a few exceptions to this rule - in The Pride of Life there are several references to eyes, which seem to be commonplace tropes from the time, a truncated version of a cliched turn of phrase, which has fallen out of use.  Even reading my notes on what the lines mean (the same reference is used I think twice) I'm at a loss as to what they really mean.  If you need a minute to explain a three second sentiment, then you're on a loosing wicket and might as well draw stumps and walk back to the pavilion.  I.e. Change or cut the line.
3. Sounds matter.  Try not to lose too much of the texture of the sound of the text when striving for sense.  Sometimes intent and the pure power of the sound is enough.  Which brings us to...
4. The Teen and Tray rule.  Where possible retain words which have no modern equivalent - so long as there is enough context for the meaning to carry.  This is exemplified by teen and tray (spelling various) which have appeared in the Chester Plays and again in The Pride of Life.  Broadly they mean sorrow and care, but there are no close modern equivalents.  To change them steps the editor into the role of translator.  The context in which these words appear make their meaning clear, the sentences often repeat the sentiment in other still used words and the actor make make the meaning of the words apparent.  Say them out loud and they sound like they mean - they represent the essence of what can be preserved in a modern production of an ancient play.  The Teen and Tray rule is the line this project tries not to cross to avoid throwing the baby out with the bathwater - because if you're just going to rewrite the play, what's the point of staging it in the first place?

Producing Dame Sirith is another matter entirely.  As a much earlier text (late 12th/early 13th Century - i.e. relatively contemporaneous with King John) it flits between complete clarity, to dangerous obscurantism.  The version that appears in the Penguin Classics edition is a translation, and I can understand why.  It's not an easy read.
However, my approach to Dame Sirith is not to translate, but to commentate.  Whereas in The Pride of Life we will play the final edit with a straight bat (to continue my cricket metaphor), for this piece of storytelling, we'll muck about a lot around the text.  We'll probably have one or two 'medieval' storytellers, telling it as it is writ (my edit follows the above rules on the strict side), we'll then have other/s simultaneously translating the story, commenting on it, insulting the other storytellers and generally throwing bad jokes around.  This will be a work in progress for the next couple of months - I don't know precisely how it will shape up in the end.
More on these projects soon - hopefully you'll start getting a taste of the texts with some audio/visual soon.
Popped round to our venue for the shows this morning and took a few snaps...

Clare Town Hall - we're mostly not using the stage itself - the performers will be among the audience

A mini minstrel gallery - where music will pour forth...




Monday, 3 February 2014

The Chester Plays 7 & 8 - The Shepherds & Magi and Herod

Play 7 - The Shepherds Play.  After a couple of weeks looking at some distinctly odd plays, which seem to suffer from that terrible disease being-severely-buggered-about-with, we're back into open territory again and we get down to a more straightforward kind of storytelling.  The Shepherds play is idiosyncratic, as each of the many Shepherds plays are, but it is a complete whole, it has only one hint at obvious alteration and nothing so invasive as with some of the earlier plays.  There was a palpable sense of relief for the readers at the event that this time we were doing a play with a neat beginning, middle and end, not a play which dances around and is interrupted by an Expositor, whose arguments were not necessarily convincing.  (See previous Chester blogs.)
The Chester Shepherds play does have marked similarities with plays from the other cycles.  There is the sense of realism of their life, the complaints and difficulties of raising sheep - an important animal in late medieval England.  The first shepherd - who, like all his fellows is named (though for ease of use I will stick to numbers here) - speaks first about the practical vetting of sheep, of the herbs and simples used in keeping them healthy.  It is quite detailed and suggests specialist knowledge.  Two other shepherds gather and they start to arrange their food and here hit a question the text didn't quite answer.  The foods they describe are ridiculous in their excess - it is a comic list of delicious foods, which they seem to pull out of bags and coats for theatrical effect, different dishes appearing from different folds of coats and bags in an amusingly impossible way.  The audience is invited to ask themselves, 'where's the next food stuff going to come from next?'  It is a grotesque spectacle and presumably designed to show that they're actually relatively wealthy - less Shepherds and more landowners, as opposed to the man they use to look after the sheep and the various boys they also exploit (more on them later).
[But there's an alternative way of staging the scene.  Perhaps the food they talk about is mimed - a non-display of everything a relatively poor Shepherd can't have.  Bigger and bigger mimes of bigger and bigger plates of food, ending, finally, in their actual food, which could be quite meager fare.  But I seem to be a minority of one on this suggestion.]

They settle down to eat something and call their herdsman to them - they blow a horn and presumably use the note to then sing - which the stage direction states they do.  Garcius then joins them and there is a clear social difference between them.  It is this sense of a hierarchy - that the Shepherds are top of a relative heap in the social world that opens the possibility that they DO have vast amounts of food on their person, for they are proved, shortly, to be a bit mean.
Their herdsman is a comic ruffian, who states clearly that he'll sleep where he falls and piss where he stands, and who refuses their offer of food, demanding instead (not unreasonably) to be paid.  He is willing to fight for his rights and wrestles with the shepherds for his due - and he wins.  The other Shepherds grumble about being bested and sit down to a grumble.

TERTIUS PASTOR. Though we be weary no wonder
what between wrastling and waking.
Oft we may be in thought we be now under
God amend it with his making.

And it is with this mention of God that the star appears and they are shocked at its brightness.  They then turn even further from their earthly distractions and kneel and pray.  More music now, as the Angel sings of the coming Christ and they listen in wonder.  Once this concert is complete they struggle to agree what was sung.  They take it in turns singing chunks of text, comically and rather sweetly, getting it wrong and yet teasing out the meaning as they go - often responding emotionally to what was sung.

"He sang also of a 'Deo’ [Deus - in this context, Jesus]
me thought that healed my heart."

They then sing a song in response - 'troly loly loly loo' - and decide to visit the child - which means they have understood what the Angel was singing, because they decide to go before the Angel appears to speak with them in dialogue.  They travel towards the star and are in the general area of Bethlehem - the Angel is waiting for them and moves them on.  Though there isn't a stage direction for it these lines suggest as they make their final way they sing again.

And sing we all I rede
some mirth to his majesty
for certain now see we it indeed:
the king Son of heaven is he.

Upon visiting the stable they speak in wonder at Joseph and Mary and their age difference, (his beard gets quite a mention).  Mary and Joseph explain how worthy and chaste the birth was - as per the previous play.  The shepherds all give their humble gifts, after swiftly emptying their pockets and deciding who should go first - by order of age it seems.

PRIMUS PASTOR. Who shall go first? The page?  [Garcius]

SECUNDUS PASTOR. Nay you be father of age
Therefore must you first offer.

And here's where some probable later interference comes in.  After the four men have had their bit, suddenly four boys, never referenced before - except possibly obliquely - appear and give homage as well, fighting between themselves as to who has the right to go first.  They suggest a later addition, where an opportunity for some young boys has been crow-barred in, rather like additional cute kids being added to an amateur pantomime cast to help get more mums and dads along to watch.  It has little to do with what came before or after and doesn't add much, just a repetition.
The shepherds then part, humbler and wiser, to devote themselves to holy orders or prayer.  It's quite a sad, moving ending to a play that is fun and knockabout for most of the text.

The next play (eight) is the meeting of the Magi with Herod and is a shorter affair.
The Three Kings meet to recount the prophecies of Balaam, justifying the inclusion of play five in the cycle - it's the last of the Old Testament plays and directly links the prophesies with the coming of Jesus.  There is none of the business in other versions of the Kings meeting each other for the first time and going through a range of introductions.  They are already a unit and they know they're task - they frequently make this pilgrimage to look for a sign that the Christ child is coming.  The Kings, riding on horse back, go to pray at a mountain - literally the same mountain as in the Balaam and Balak play - both in terms of stage property/setting and location within the text - returning the scene of the original prophesy for guidance.  Once there they kneel and an Angel shows them the star.  Given the general direction, which must be to desert terrain as they now mount camels, they head off in earnest.
It's worth going over this action again.  In the space of a few minutes, we've met the three Kings, travelled with them to a mountain on horseback, seen a star and then watched them ride off on camels to the land of Herod.  This asks a lot of questions about how this play and the others were staged - because there seem to be a number of playing areas - pageant wagons/scaffolds, with journeying between them among the audience.  The horses could literally be horses that they ride into the space with - a dramatic entrance to the play.  They discourse on why they're there - but what they're saying isn't as important as their appearance - the audience will be busy adjusting to their appearance, watching them enter and pick their way to the mountain.  They either have servants with them, or ask the audience to help with the horses (something not completely implausible in a horse driven society) with this line:

Say fellow take this courser
and abide me right here.

Once on the mountain - quite possibly the same mountain as in play five - they ask God for direction.  A star then appears and they are so surprised at the appearance that they start speaking in French (an indication of their status) - luckily they repeat the sentiment in English.  Then an Angel appears to them and they kneel.  The Angel tells them to get up and follow the star to Jude - which suggests the Angel carries the star away with it, as there are numerous references to the star doing different things it's difficult to tell.  But if the Angel takes the star then they must follow and so they move onto camels.
Now, even if they had real horses for their entrance (for which we cannot be sure) they definitely didn't have camels - so these are probably comic - hobbyhorses for a bit of fun.  The text is quite light on the subject.

TERTIUS REX. A dromodarye in good fay
will go lightly on his way
an hundreth miles upon a day
such corsers now take we.

There is a stage direction saying they go about, 'riding' among the audience and perhaps following the Angel with the star, leading them a merry dance.  
Then the star disappears and the Kings are left (presumably in the audience) with no direction to follow.  And it is now they meet a messenger of Herod.  They tell him what they're looking for and he tells them that if they go to Herod with their tale of a rival they won't be thanked.

EXPLORATER. Hold your peace sirs I you pray!
For if King Herod heard you so say
he would go wood* by my fay     *[mad]
and fly out of his skin.

But they decide to go anyway, in the blinking of a stage direction.  Explorater, the messenger, goes ahead to the pageant wagon/scaffold to announce them where, with the aide of music, Herod makes his entrance.  They greet each other in Norman French, as Kings should do and Herod makes his usual boasts of power, as all Herods tend to do.  

Again we see crossover with the Balaam and Balak play - as Herod has similarities to King Balaam in terms of stage craft.  He shifts between general boasting to rage in the turn of a stanza and there are stage directions for physical business, where he gestures with a staff or sword - though in what way this stage business worked isn't clear.  It maybe that when he's trying to be Kingly he uses his staff, and when he's enraged he uses his sword - but that's just a suggestion on my part, because he may only have one or the other, not both.  
On hearing of Jesus he consults his learned Doctor (though there could be more than one of them) to confirm the three Kings story and in his increasing rage at the number of prophesies he breaks his sword.  It isn't clear how much or well this Herod hides his anger from the three Kings - his first outburst would have been in their present, though he might have consulted the Doctor in a separate part of the stage.  Though his manner changes as he speaks to the Kings there isn't the sense that he's actively trying to fool them that he is overjoyed at the appearance of a rival King.  There is almost no exchange with the Kings afterward as he sends them on their way, asking them to pop in later with news.  The turn around is very shift, though not impossible, and you could hardly expect the Kings to witness him breaking his sword and need an Angel later to warn them not to return.
The Kings go and Herod has a drink to drown his sorrows, making the final speech to close the play, a speech drowned in self pity.  You can see him waving his staff and his broken sword and railing at the child who has passed him the drink.  Already in this play the plan for the slaughter of the innocents has been touched upon and the audience will know it won't be long till they see it.

Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays - Plays 7 & 8 - featured Liz Cole, Robert Crighton, Annie Eddington, Michael Harding, Kevin Roychowdhury, Alan Scott and Adam Webster.
Live Streaming by Tim Regester, Autocue by Marion Tuke, photos by Mark Pavelin - with Bex Johnson in dictionary corner.  Thanks to the Quay Theatre for hosting the event and the use of their broadband!






Thursday, 7 November 2013

The Chester Plays 5 & 6 - Balaam and Balak & The Nativity

We explored these plays in a slightly fraught way this last Sunday - having been banished from our usual space to the public theatre bar - so the recording is a little more frazzled this week and, in my confusion, I make a few statements that are completely and utterly wrong - helped by the confusing nature of play five.
[The Chester recordings have now been archived and are below - I have edited out any howlers in terms of my general confusion.  Credits and photos at the bottom of the post.]

Two distinctly odd plays were looked at this week, following on from the increasingly fragmented play structures of last time - where the Abraham play danced around three episodes, interspersed with exposition.
There is an important question that has to be asked about the dramaturgy - are the jump cuts between scenes and locations an artistic decision or part of the later post-reformation general buggering about of the plays - or a bizarre mixture of the two.  It seems to me, as a dramatist and actor, that a lot of the material is very brief, like excerpts of a completer play - and the additions of an expositor do not aide the flow of the storytelling - in fact, it shows up how disjointed the plays seem to be.  Compared with the first play - the fall of Lucifer - the following five are, increasingly, a mess.  The first is self contained, clear in purpose and shows what it is about through the drama on the stage, not through exposition.  The second play follows suit, but has a few odd jumps in time and hints at the truly weird storytelling of plays 4 and 5.
To add to the confusion Play 5 survives in two distinct versions (there are more than one, but only two distinct ones, as it were).  I've been following one surviving text of the plays for our live explorations up to this point, but have jumped to another for this play for purely practical reasons - it's shorter and has fewer characters.  This is the version which doesn't have a scene at the end with the prophets, which (again, odd chopping up of plays) is usually a play in itself in other cycles and sudo-cycles.
The prophet play is usually fairly static, a long line of prophets making prophecies about the coming Christ.  It acts as a buffer between the old and New Testament sections and as almost an in breath dramatically.  The audience will have had several fairly dramatic episodes so far - a nice sedate play is welcome before the action begins again.  But, in the context of an already crowded and disjointed play, I wasn't sad to miss it here.
What play 5 does have is a brief Moses section, mostly speeches between Moses and God, without any of the plagues of Egypt business which we get in other plays.  It is incredibly brief and almost an afterthought, as the Moses plays often feel to be.  There are several reasons for this, one is the problematic relationship between the Old Testament stories and those of the New, but also practical ones.  The story of Moses isn't a neat episode in itself, it's a whole mini-cycle.  To make it function dramatically you need to treat it over a number of episodes.  There is plenty of evidence that this was done with Abraham - for, though we are mostly familiar with the sacrifice of Issac as an episode in it's own right, the Townley Cycle continues the story onwards into two other plays.  The Chester Cycle may have done something similar, even if the final texts to reach us are truncated versions of those plays.  It would explain the odd structure.
But there doesn't seem to be a corresponding multi-episode Moses narrative.  He's a bridge between the Old and New Testament passages, sometimes, as here, truncated with a Prophets play.  And so the dramatist has to find a way to make the Moses play have enough weight in it's own right.  Plus there's a question of the scale of the stories.  It's easy enough to enact Moses coming down from the mountain and telling everyone about the ten commandments, it's a bitch to stage the plagues of Egypt and the parting of the Red Sea - though other cycles do have a go.
Also, there's a problem of theme.  The first four plays of this cycle, except for elements of the Abraham play, all link together very well - there are the repeated themes of pride vs obedience to God's will and the prefiguring of Christ in the characters of Abel and Isaac.  The Moses story, so large and so complex, doesn't fit into the template, doesn't fit into the larger story being told.  And yet these halfway house plays appear, made worse in Chester by the aforementioned general buggering about with the text in the later stages of it's life.  This mention of Moses feels like an appendix to me, like a cutaway of a larger play, or the insertion of a later hand with the accompanying narration by a Doctor to explain why it's there. My professional instinct, as a theatrical man, would be to cut the whole play from performance in a cycle - an instinct largely followed by every modern version of the cycles that have been staged in modern times.

Having dispensed with a brief cameo from Moses the dramatist (I should probably say dramatists) moves swiftly onto the Balaam and Balak episode, where King Balak (a heathen) calls the prophet Balaam (similarly moderately heathen) to him, for to curse the people of Israel.  God tells Balaam not to go, but on he goes and on the road an Angel appears before him and the ass he is riding (no sniggering at the back there) refuses to go on.  Unable to see the Angel himself, Balaam beats the ass, which is given the power of speech to remonstrate with his master.

The episode of the ass is presumably performed in a pantomime fashion and has room for physical humour - but it is incredibly brief.  Balaam is allowed to see the Angel, who lets him proceed - so warned - and tells him not to say what King Balak wants.  On Balaam goes to the King and they climb a mountain - the stage directions indicate it has different sides - and he is repeatedly asked to curse the people of Israel, which he refuses to do.  This he does looking out at different directions on the mountain and each time the King gets more angry.  Before the King gets so incensed as to do an injury to Balaam, he tells the King how to trick the Jews into wickedness and so bring their own destruction.  This plan - involving collecting beautiful women to entrap the people of Israel - is explained with aplomb and seems to go down well.  Re-enter Expositor to wrap things up.

There are so many questions raised by this text.  How familiar was it to the medieval audience?  It's immensely obscure now and I can't help but think it was even more so then - but stories go in and out of fashion and maybe it was a popular favourite?  It isn't reproduced in any of the other cycles or similar that survive, but that could be due to dumb luck.
So, the story is (possibly) obscure, the staging is brief and the exposition is very long.  What are the reasons for its existence?  It's hardly a central part of the narrative, especially as it jockeys out space for a longer Moses play.  The lengthy exposition suggests that in later years the narrative was considered very problematic.
The character of King Balak is interesting, as are the notes to business the actor would have performed; there are various references to business when he draws and sheaths his sword.  He is obviously not a nice chap, but he's nowhere near to a screaming Herod, there are levels to his dialogue.
The end of the play mentions that they'll get onto the Nativity tomorrow - which is odd, as the established pattern of playing has it that plays were presented either on one day, or over three - but the established split for the three day version comes later in the cycle.  Was this version of the play performed separately at some point, or were the plays performed in a completely different structure sometime in their lives?  History gives no answer.

Onto play 6 and the Nativity - which is similarly a difficult text to interpret.  We start off sedately enough with the annunciation.

But rather than sticking with a straightforward story of a journey and birth, the play is inter-cut with scenes involving Octavian (Augustus) Caesar and a Sybil.  The purpose of Octavian in the play is not immediately apparent, but there are several good reasons for the approach.  Firstly, it neatly sets the action in a world similar to ours - a ruler sets taxes, what could be more modern?  This is a different world from the ancient days of the Old Testament.  Octavian is an historically, as well as Bibically, extant person and it's a nice detail from the gospels to enact.  The play could open with him, as a nice opening gambit, for context alone.  But he doesn't appear until after the opening scenes with Mary and Joseph.  A narrator - quite randomly - bursts onto the playing area almost mid action.

NUNTIUS:  Make room lordings and give us way
and let Octavian come and play
and Sybil the sage that well faire may
to tell you of prophecy.
That lord that died on Good Friday 
he save you all, both night and day.
Farewell lordings. I go my way,
I may no longer abide.

And off he goes again.  It's somewhat bathetic - something of the Mechanicals in A Midsummer Night's Dream.  Enter Octavian - he makes the usual boastful cries of a lesser Herod, commanding and prideful.  He calls his messenger to go out and announce his new tax and (in a scene similar to the King in The Pride of Life) offers this messenger great rewards for his pains - including a woman of his choice.
The Senators then offer to make Octavian a God - and here he displays un-Herod like qualities, pointing out he is but a man and no God.  But this could be strategy - as with Julius Caesar in Shakespeare's play - as he does relent to ask the Sybil first what she thinks of the idea.
So instructed, she prays.
Jump cut to Preco, the messenger, out and about - making his announcement of the new tax.  Joseph hears and we remain with him.  We see in the play a chain of command, from the highest in the land, eventually down to the lowest - Joseph (and Joseph, a semi-comic figure, is always pretty low, prone to self pity).  This is in contrast with the earlier thread - the messenger from Rome is contrasted with Gabriel, the messenger from God.
A purpose for the secondary plot is possibly revealed.  Not only have we two threads of contrasting action, between various strata of society, the dramatist can move the action along by jumping between them.  Action is telescoped and scenes inter-cut swiftly.  The action of the first half of the play has moved along with great speed - a brief appearance of an angel to Mary - Mary's journey to Elizabeth - somehow already visibly pregnant (for the moment Joseph appears he can see she has obviously, to him, been busy in his absence) - then, without any indication of how, the two ladies are ignored and Joseph is talking to the audience and leaving her behind - where the Angel reassures him and he returns to her.  Jump-cut - and my continued analogy of film is appropriate - to Octavian and his plans for a general poll tax - this scene ends with his tax gatherer making a general speech to 'the people' - one of which is a very unhappy Joseph, who comments on the unfairness of a poll tax as opposed to an income based system.

He decides to take an ox with him to Bethlehem, so that he can sell it there to pay the tax - which is both practical and helps set up the image of the baby being laid between the ox and the ass in the stable - possibly the only account that explains how the ox came to also be in the stable in the first place.
Another interesting addition to the birth of Jesus is the appearance of two midwives - who the, somewhat feckless Joseph, rushes off to get for his wife.  The birth itself is side stepped in the text as something that between two lines of dialogue just happens.  No mention how - though it is suggested the midwives have little to do with it.  Mary claims the birth was doubly miraculous because she felt no pain.  One midwife (Tebell) praises God for the arrival of the Christ, the other (Salome) is doubtful.
Salome is punished for disbelieving that this was a virgin birth - so that when she reaches down to examine Mary's 'sex secret' (i.e. vagina - translation of the Latin courtesy of Google translate!) for proof of her virginity (as if after giving birth this will prove anything) the midwife's hand withers.  An Angel then appears to explain that only by asking the baby Jesus' forgiveness does it heal.  (Nobody thinks to ask if Mary wanted her 'secret sex' touched, or what she thinks - but the baby is ready to do the healing and everything turns out fine. I am reading too much into this by suggesting that the author considers a male infant more important than a woman?  I know he's the baby Jesus, but come on!)
The scene breaks and there is then a lengthy story told by the expositor.

EXPOSITOR:  Loe, lordings, of this miracle here
friar Bartholomew, in good manner,
beareth witness without were
as played is you beforne.
And other miracles if I may
I shall rehearse, or I go away,
that befell that ilke day
that Jesus Christ was born.

It's a story that a temple with an equestrian statue was build in Rome to honour Peace - and that the devil had a hand in its creation.  The devil is asked when the temple will fall and he says (with future echoes of the prophecies of the three witches in Macbeth) that it will stand until a child is born of a virgin.

They heard and believed therefore
it should endure for evermore,
but that time that Christ was bore
it fell down soon in hie.

So giving a miracle to the birth of this particular prince.
I go into a little detail of this passage, a. because it's an interesting little story and b. because it asks an interesting question.  The Expositor bridges the end of the birth of Jesus section with the final appearance of Octavian - does this mean that the Expositor moves from one space to another to draw the eye of the spectators to the next area of action, or is his appearance to allow some change of scenery in a single space.  The indications of the stage craft of the first five plays is that there is room for manoevuer between a variety of playing areas - that the plays are not expected to obey strict rules of performance.  There is much made of travelling between places - is this another instance?
Additionally there is the line: "beareth witness without were / as played is you beforne." Was the Expositor narrating some sort of dumb show?  Should we adjust our view of the figure, which unadorned is rather dry, as a storyteller working with the rest of the team of players - rather than a jumped up know-it-all who keeps getting in the way.  In the event that we get round to fully staging these plays, this is definitely an area for exploration.
Upon this note we return to Octavian who seems to go through a conversion - seeing the star of Bethlehem in the sky - which has, in a stage direction, just been displayed.  As he sees the star, he has a vision.

OCTAVIAN: Ah Sybil, this is a wondrous sight
for yonder I see a maiden bright
a young child in her arms clight
a bright cross in his head.

The first reference in the plays so far to the ultimate fate of Jesus (not including Expositors or outside narrators).  He then offers thanks to the new God, does a u-turn on any suggestion that as Caesar he is a God on earth and is rewarded with the singing of an Angel.  He then tells his senators to spread the word of Jesus' coming.  It's quite a sweet, if completely impossible, scene.
The Expositor returns to claim that a temple to Mary was dedicated at this time and is still standing to this day.  This is also a bizarre nonsense.
Only one interesting anachronism of note this time - Preco, all purpose servant, announcer etc to Octavian says:

PRECO:  All ready my lord, by Mahound.

Yup, that would be our first use to the corrupted name Mohammed, founder of another religion, not to be born for another six hundred years.  It won't be the last time this name will be used as an oath in these plays - and by considerably worse people.
Play 6 is in many ways as confusing a text as play 5, except that on the whole, there is a far greater sense of deliberation to the structure.  It isn't a matter of random scenes being strung together - there is design to the text.  Whereas I could believe that play 5 is a condensed, cut down version of two or even three separate pieces, play 6 is designed as a unified whole.  That said, it isn't wholly satisfying as a play.  It feels cut, the scenes are very brief, the action - for all the benefits of a fast cutting structure - undeveloped.

Next time - the Shepherds and the meeting of the Magi and Herod.  [This was explored at the Quay Theatre, Sudbury, two weeks later - full posting to follow.]

Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays - Plays 5 & 6 Featured Liz Cole, Robert Crighton, Michael Harding, Kevin Roychowdhury, Alan Scott and Adam Webster.
Live Streaming by Tim Regester, Autocue by Marion Tuke, photos by Mark Pavelin - with Bex Johnson in dictionary corner.

Robert addressing the microphone
- Tim Regester (background) doing the live streaming -
Marion Tuke running the autocue
Kevin Roychowdhury at the microphone
Michael Harding at the microphone
Marion Tuke at the autocue

Liz Cole as the Sybil

Alan Scott - prepping for his turn at the microphone


Adam Webster with Kevin, following the script

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

The Chester Plays 3 & 4 - Noah & Abraham

This week in Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays we looked at plays 3 & 4, which cover Noah and Abraham.  The team gathered with autocued script and a live link up and off we went.
[All our Chester recordings are currently being archived and are being added, piece by piece, to this blog.]

It is in these plays that we start to encounter some of the more severe forms of the general buggering about that the Chester texts have seen (see blog about plays 1 & 2).  Chester has come to us, unlike the other 'cycles', in a number of texts, and there are some big differences between them for the Noah play.  The latter part of the play has differing endings, with the business of sending out birds to hunt for land cut in some.  It's patently a difficult play to stage and the ark must have been big, as hinted at in the stage directions.  There's a direction that the animals would appear as painted boards on the ark, for when the Noah family go through and list all the animals on board - of which there are a fair old number listed. 

And here are bears, wolves set,
Apes, owls, marmoset,
Weasels, squirrels and ferret...  (Note the assumed pronunciation of ferret, lovely!)

With a future echo to the Nativity, the family speak in wonder that the animals are content to live side by side, that cats and mice do not get up to any Tom and Jerry activity, let alone the lions.
Early on we get a return of the misogyny of the earlier plays - the dialogue of the unnamed women (only named as wives of the men) largely point out how useless they are:

And we shall bring timber too
For we mon nothing ells do;
Women be weak to underfoe
Any great travail.

And, as in other 'cycle' plays, Noe has a go at his wife for not getting on board the ark.  She refuses to go without her friends, her gossips, and has to be bodily carried on board, where the text suggests she gives Noe one hell of a slap.  

NOE:  Welcome wife into this boat.
NOES WIFE:  And have thou that for thy mote! 

We have our first anachronisms, as both Noa and his wife calls by Saint John - but we've yet to have anyone call out by God's wounds and the like.  Yet.

Noe's wife's refusal to board is the only note of disharmony in the play, and in comparison with other plays, her stand isn't so dominant a part of the narrative - it's fairly half-hearted.  Noe's wife helps build the ark and is swiftly part of the family unit again - the play uses music to suggest the ultimate harmony of the family, for they sing when they set sail.  There is a speech by Noah that covers a lot of time jumps - between stanzas he indicates that forty days have passed and that he's sent out two birds.  How these time jumps were staged (and as they were cut in some versions, perhaps they were never satisfactorily staged) we do not know.  There is also the telling detail of offering sacrifice to God and asking him whether they should leave the ark - the issue of sacrifice comes up in the next play - which is missing from some versions.
The Noah play is a more expansive piece of theatre - the set/setting for the play was obviously large and there are many effects that could and probably were used.  It is in a contrast to the more contained dramas of the previous two plays which, though they included a lot of music and occasional spectacle, are focused on the pride and fall of individuals.  Noa and his wife are not as deeply drawn here - they, and their many family members - are concerned with a grand project and life changing events.  The flood and the ark are the major players in the action and the amount of plot and detail to the actions of the family limits how much time the play has in looking at the characters inner lives.  At no point do the characters really question what is happening or even comment on how horrible it is to see the whole of humanity slaughtered.  The action of the play leaves the author/s no time.  It is only in plays which deal with simpler shorter stories where interior thoughts can come to the surface.  Which brings us to play 4.

The Abraham play is a very different kettle of fish - unlike other versions it is split into three separate parts of Abraham's life.  A gift giving section featuring himself, Lot and Melchysidech - a section dealing with God giving he and his wife a child and the usually staged story of the sacrifice of Isaac.  Each episode is flanked by the figure of the Expositor, who is presumably a post-reformation addition to the text who is there to explain to the audience what these episodes mean, theologically that is.

But before we even get to the rather irritating figure of the Expositor we get an even odder opening speech by someone calling the audience to order and generally turning their attention to this play, rather than the Noah play which, perhaps because it involved a lot of set, was stillin the way.  He comes across rather like a representative of the county council popping in at the start of the village production.  He feels added on, like he is just there to mark time as the Ark is got out of sight.  He calls himself Gobet-on-the-Green and is never heard of again, unless the last speech of the play, a messenger, is the same person.
The first part features the gift giving between Abraham and Melchysidech, which is interesting but feels incomplete - like we've walked in the end of a story.  It's supposed to follow pitched battles - and I wonder whether something of this was originally in the play.  We know that there were other Abraham plays, in the Towneley cycle for example, which dealt with acts after Abraham with Isaac and his sons after the sacrifice play, so why not have a play that tells us more about his life prior to that episode?  Either way, the continued existence of this brief episode is explained to us by the Expositor - who is, perhaps deliberately, patronising to the audience.

Lordings, what may this signify
I will expound apertly
that lewed standing hereby [unlearned]
may know what this may be. 

The Expositor claims that this episode, where gifts are given in thanks, rather than sacrifices, prefiguring the gift of the body and blood of Christ.  This explanation of the parallels between this Old Testament episode with the New, as presented, is not very convincing.  Much of what the Expositor says smacks of really desperate revisionism in a hope of keeping the plays alive in the new world order - even if there is a reasonable case in the text for the argument.  This opening could be seen as a parallel to the tithes offered by Cain and Abel - just reversed.  After the battle and the bloodshed, gifts are given to cement relations - rather than tithes are offered to God leading to murder.  It is, perhaps, a sign of an advance in culture - leading, as the Expositor argues - to the ceremony central to Christian worship.  If so, it is an advance not fully heeded, as animal sacrifice is central to the close of this play.

The second episode is extremely brief, a short chat Abraham has with God to have a son.  That is, a legitimate one - as Abraham points out he still has his 'nurry', his illegitimate child, and that it doesn't count.  This is mentioned almost in passing.  God tells Abraham that he'll have a child, so long as he's circumcised - where follows an appeal to the joys of circumcision, which Abraham and all his fellows must take on. 
The Expositor suggests that the circumcision of the Old Testament has been replaced by Baptism - a comment I am not theologically qualified to confirm or deny.  Finally he points out that the seed of Abraham will one day beget Jesus, which is fair enough.
Neither of these episodes appear in any other cycle - and as presented here it's not surprising really.  Until the arrival of Isaac there is little sense of a complete play - the episodes are brief and feel really random, not dramatically or theatrically well linked to the plays so far presented or as an individual play in itself.  How they ended up in this state - especially as there are other versions with the prophets as well - is largely lost to history.  Oh, to have an earlier version of the text to answer a few questions of dramaturgy - because these opening sections could function in a clear way.  There is a good dramatic reason to see Abraham pray for a son - so that you feel the more when he is asked by God to kill him.  However, as presented here, after the rather odd gift giving scene, it's too brief and somewhat jarring.
Anyway, now we reach the final and most effective part of the play, the meat, if you will.  Here there is something at stake and Abraham is genuinely torn between his love of God and Isaac.  When we were reading this section I stopped interjecting unless it was really necessary - and let the actors and the text speak and the play really held us, the first time since the first and second plays of the sequence.
Abraham plays the innocent to his son, asking him to carry the implements of his own death to the place of sacrifice.  There are echos of Cain in Play 1, guiding his brother away to his death.  I love the slow realisation of Isaac, as he starts to twig that something isn't right.  Going to the place of sacrifice he asks:

Father, if it be your will
where is the beast that we shall kill?

It takes a little bit more questioning before the truth comes out.  The scene is long, the longest individual scene in the cycle so far, and it just gets worse and worse for father and son.  When Abraham confesses what he is doing, his dialogue is almost bathetic.  It is an understatement and a half to say...


ABRAHAM:  O my son, I am sorry
to do to thee this great annoy.
Gods commandment do must I
his works are aye full mild.

The last statement being patently untrue.

By slow stages the boy is tied up, blindfolded and placed on the altar, all the while telling his father to not mention what he's done to mother.  Eventually the Angels arrive and the test ends - a sheep is provided for sacrifice and God appears 

DEUS: Abraham, by myself I swear...

Well, by who else can he swear?
And we have our first proper anachronism of the cycle - 

ABRAHAM: Jesu, on me thou have pity.  

But time is not linear in the medieval world, so it's not an error.

Next time we look at the unique play 5, Balaam and Balak, and the more universally known play 6, The Nativity.

The Exploring the Chester Mystery Plays Team:
Readers - Michael Harding, Kevin Roychowdhruy, Peter Drew, Liz Cole, Claire Lawrence and Mark Holtom
Tech Team - Tim Regester on live link, Marion Tuke on autocue, Mark Pavelin for photography and
Bexy Lou Johnston in Dictionary Corner
Host - Robert Crighton
This event was live streamed from the Quay Theatre in late 2013.

Claire Lawrence, Mark Holtom and Liz Cole preparing to go...

Peter Drew, Liz Cole and Mark Holtom - watch Bex in Dictionary Corner

Robert checking where the hell he is on Marion's autocue

Mark Holtom - occasional God

Foreground, Marion and Tim, working the tech...