May 022013
 

alan cummings macbethOh my Gods and Goddesses, is Alan Cumming fantastically good in Macbeth, currently seen on Broadway at the Ethel Barrymore Theater. In case you haven’t heard, he performs the play as a one-man piece, playing up its dark and troubling nature by presenting it as a patient in a psychiatric ward, incarcerated for some unspecified crime (probably a murder, as his clothes and fingernail scrapings are taken from him as evidence in the beginning). Except for actors who play a nurse and an attendant (appearing in an overhead viewing window like watchful Deities), Mr. Cumming is alone onstage the entire time of the show, performing all the roles himself. Words like bravura and tour-de-force are wrung dry describing his accomplishment; his energy level and physical stamina are amazing, as is the seeming indestructibility of his vocal chords (he manages his performance with but two sips of water, taken onstage, and watching him is a bit like viewing a master-class in diaphragm control). His versatility is impressive, as he clearly delineates each character, making the narrative very easy to follow (something not always accomplished in conventional productions with a full cast). He can be very amusing, sometimes impishly so (a word not generally associated with the “Scottish Play”), and makes literal the expression “stripping himself bare onstage,” at times performing in a tiny pair of undies, at times not even in those, and periodically slipping into a bathtub filled with water (for an actor to make himself both nude and wet is an unusually fearless thing). His delivery of “Tomorrow and tomorrow” (which takes the place held by “To be” in Hamlet) is especially effective.

For Pagans in the audience, the presentation of the Witches will always be Macbeth’s drawing power, and I found that I preferred Mr. Cumming’s interpretation to that of most productions. Three video screens at the top of the stage broadcast in closeup his Witches, splitting his delivery into individualized parts. This is the one performance that I have ever seen that begins the show as I believe Mr. Shakespeare intended; the first couple of scenes are reshuffled so that, fairly early, the “Weird Sisters Charm” of Act I, scene iii, is enacted (it is generally cut from most productions), and Mr. Cumming performs it running in a circle, effectively “winding up” a Charm to begin the show. Interestingly, the “Eye of newt, toe of frog” speech of Act IV, scene i, is cut (eliminating the litany of grotesque ingredients brewed into the Witches’ cauldron) and the famous scene is staged with lights casting three shadows behind Macbeth, presenting the Witches as fascinating enigmas. The Witches come off as unworldly sybils, which is compelling and true to Shakespeare’s intention (I believe); the one element that I could have done without is the revelation of the three prophecies while Mr. Cumming pulls the entrails out of a dead raven. (A bit of logic that sticks out in the mind is, how does a dead raven end up in a psychiatric ward?) All in all, however, the production goes far in shifting interpretation of the Three Witches from demented crazies, to something powerful and prophetic.

The show’s merchandise alone is clever and amusing, and would make fun gifts for Pagan friends; the production’s run has been extended through early July. Anyone who can possibly manage to see this show, I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Feb 022013
 

Theater prices being what they are these days, even Off-Broadway can be daunting sometimes from a budgetary perspective, and so like a lot of New Yorkers, I have long ago made my peace with an impressive roster of shows and actors that I never saw. For instance, last summer, Alan Cumming performed Macbeth at Lincoln Center- Alan Cumming’s Lincoln Center Macbeth- which I was very eager to see, as it was apparently a very unique interpretation (basically performed as a one-man show, delivered by an inmate in a psych ward: interesting choice), but as the Gods of Fate and Theater would have it, it was exactly that month that Olympia Dukakis was performing The Tempest and I decided to reserve my discretionary cash for that sublime experience (still quite pleased with my choice). I have to own to a certain reservation concerning Mr. Cumming’s show, as (apparently) he delivered the Witches’ Scene dismembering a dead raven. The presentation of the Witches is primarily what intrigues me about a production of Macbeth, and the (apparent) rending apart of a deceased fowl points to what I feel generally goes wrong in modern presentations of “the Scottish Play.” I have the idea that the Witches’ Scenes are meant to mimic an unfolding Magickal Ceremony, which is a perspective that I feel tends to be missed today. Left otherwise at a loss as to how to stage the Witches, most productions that I have seen tend to go nuts overemphasizing the grotesque aspects of the Witches (such as say, having them dismember a dead raven), and so miss their more sublime (more inherently Magickal) qualities. However, eviscerated birds notwithstanding, I was disappointed at having to miss Mr. Cumming’s performance and so was all the more excited at discovering that his production will be mounted on Broadway this spring. I am decidedly thrilled, and setting aside cash now to make sure that I can attend.

Another show that was revived briefly on Broadway last summer is Fela!- or as my friend Delphi calls it, Musical Theater for the Orishas. Based upon the life of Nigerian pop-star and political agitator Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, originator of Afrobeat and largely featuring his own music, the NY Times called it an “exultant and unorthodox biomusical about a singing African revolutionary”- as well as one whom I guess Pagans would call “polyamorous,” as his multiple (and very independent-minded) wives present “the best argument they’ve seen for polygamy.” It was in a limited run on Broadway last summer; my friend Delphi calls me up and goes, It’s awesome! It’s fantastic! It’s Musical Theater for the Orishas! You must see it! Did I? No. Should you, Pagan Theater Fan, if ever you come across a production of Fela! Yes, by all means.

Performed Off-Broadway last summer (way-Downtown) was the perennial classic A Midsummer Night’s Dream, starring Bebe Neuwirth as Titania (as the Times put it, “Foolish Mortals; Naughty Fairies: the Usual Mischief”). Like any other Gay man, I love and adore Bebe Neuwirth (I have actually seen her perform before), and it would have been wonderful to watch her in one of my favorite plays by Mr. Shakespeare. (But did I see it? Nooo. Why? I dunno; I guess I had stuff going on.) Bringing me round to my point, I suppose: 400 years later, Midsummer remains a very popular work, and by my count, Mr. Cumming represents the 6th major Macbeth to be mounted on Broadway or Off-Broadway since the early ’90s. Two very different plays- one whimsical in the extreme, featuring mischievous Fays; the other admittedly dark and troubling and starring (basically) Witches- Midsummer and Macbeth are probably the two most supernatural plays of the Bard’s canon, as well as probably the two that best retain the once-Pagan folklore of the Elizabethans. And yet they continue to play well, indicating a popular fascination that I find intriguing- that people still find Faeries and Witches interesting enough to want to see plays about them; isn’t that interesting?

Dec 252012
 

James I, King of England from 1603-1625

Garry Wills notes in his book Witches and Jesuits: Shakespeare’s Macbeth (p. 35), that a number of plays from roughly 1606- by Marston, Barnes, and Dekker- have Witches in them,  admitting that Witchcraft “fascinated Renaissance audiences- it figures in many plays, directly or indirectly. In fact, there is not a single play by Shakespeare that does not have some reference to witchcraft, some metaphor based on it, some term associated with it in a technical sense.” But Wills feels that there is a difference in the way that “Witches” (a controversial 17th century issue) are treated in the period of 1606: which he dates as reaction to the Gunpowder Plot to assassinate King James, in 1605.

James I of England (formerly King James VI of Scotland, successor to Elizabeth I as the son of her first cousin, Mary Stewart, Queen of Scots) was a monarch uniquely troubled by Witches- an example (as Mr. Wills points out) of how the possibility of 17th century Witchcraft could turn into an affair of state (what Wills calls “political witchcraft”): “most of the major conspiracies against [James'] life involved witchcraft.” (p. 42) The North Berwick Witches of 1590 supposedly cast spells against him; Bothwell’s 1593 rebellion brought an indictment for Witchcraft; and Magick formulas were found on the body of the man who tried to kill the King, after the failure of the 1600 Gowrie Plot. Small wonder that (as King of Scotland), James wrote the anti-Witchcraft book Daemonologie, calling Witchcraft a pernicious crime and grave social concern. But it was in the wake of the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, that “Witches” as agents-of-evil gained new fascination. Unsurprising, then, to find that “Witchy Women,” in dangerous and shivery ways, figure in at least four of the plays conjectured to have been put up by Shakespeare’s acting company during the Court Christmas Season of 1606.

King Lear and the Fool, in the Storm

By the time that James is ready to assume Kingship of England following Elizabeth’s death in 1603, it is clear that the acting troupe with which Shakespeare is associated, both as a writer and as an actor, is thought the best in London; they are honored by His Majesty’s patronage, performing thereafter as the King’s Men. Clearly as well, they are charged with providing a large degree of entertainment during the midwinter festival (which apparently was not thought concluded until Candlemas). This included a heavy court celebration during the Twelve Days of Christmas proper, during which the company performed King Lear on December 26. As much a meditation upon “good kingship” as anything else (and upon the folly of being a King who divides up his kingdom), it is one of Shakespeare’s more self-consciously “Pagan” plays, being set in pre-Christian (Romanized) Celtic Britain. An example of the type of language that Mr. Wills talks about, in identifying the “Witchy” characteristics of the “Gunpowder Plays” written in the aftermath of the Plot, is when Edmund calls his brother a “villain,” claiming that “here stood he in the dark, his  sharp sword out, mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon to stand [as his] auspicious mistress.” (Act II, scene i, line 41) The Witch-like image that Edmund the Bastard “conjures” of his brother- standing in the dark, utilizing his sword as some sort of Magickal instrument, mumbling “wicked charms,” “conjuring the Moon” to be his Fortune-granting Protector- helps to poison their father’s mind against Edgar.

The concluding play presented by the King’s Men, on Candlemas 1607, is one of the more Protestant and anti-Catholic works of the period. The Devil’s Charter (by Barnabe Barnes) purports to cover the “Life and Death” of the notorious Borgia Pope Alexander VI- father, for instance, to the infamous Lucretia, and a Pope singularly said to have owed his papacy to a bargain struck with the Devil. Therefore, this play (presented before the Protestant head of the Church of England) depicts the future-pope conjuring demons from out of the Pits of Hell, in a Magickal Ceremony that, for all that demons and hell’s forces are involved, looks so much like a modern Wiccan or Ceremonial Magickal Circle-Casting, as to dispel suspicions as to the genuinely medieval origins of Circle Invocation. However, since the Catholic Jesuits were heavily implicated in the Gunpowder Plot against James, this play of Italianate plotting and intrigue ends with demons dragging poor Alexander (kicking and screaming, ‘natch) to the eternal torments of Satan’s realm. One thing about the Jacobeans- they were not subtle in their political allegory.

Lucretia is one of the women presented in the plays of the 1606 Christmas Season as “Witchy” (according to Mr. Wills). For being the daughter of a “male Witch” (as Mr. Wills puts it), Lucretia would be expected to have Witch-Blood in her, as a Jacobean audience would think of it- a fact underscoring any moment that, say, Lucretia is seen with poisons, in a display of the dark Witches’ Arts of Venefica.

Queen Cleopatra

Another play by Shakespeare that Garry Wills believes was presented during this Christmas Season was Antony and Cleopatra. Noting thematic similarities between The Devil’s Charter, Antony and Cleopatra, and Macbeth (namely, their use of “Witchy Women,” and “Witchy” characteristics in general, as well as the evident availability of a teen-aged actor talented enough presumably to play all three “Witchy” roles: Lucretia Borgia, Cleopatra, and Lady Macbeth), Garry Wills believes that all three must have been written at approximately the same time, and in reaction to the Gunpowder Plot. An air of “Witchiness” undoubtedly permeates the air around the Egyptian Queen in Antony and Cleopatra, including references to her as a “Gypsy,” well-associated with Magickal Craft in the Middle Ages. The play opens in Act I, scene ii, upon an episode of fortune-telling and soothsaying in the Egyptian court (Soothsayer: “In Nature’s infinite Book of Secrecy, a little I can read.”) In what must have been to Jacobean audiences a very “Pagan” instance, one of Cleopatra’s ladies then prays to “sweet Isis, good Isis” to avert a comic misfortune predicted to befall her. Antony describes Cleopatra as a “grave charm,” a “right gipsy,” “thou spell,” and finally outright as “Witch,” in Act IV, scene xii, and Pompey describes her allure in Act II, scene i, line 22: “Let Witchcraft join with Beauty, lust with both!”

Macbeth enters the Witches’ Cavern

Through a complicated series of analyses (in addition to the thematic similarities between the three leading actress roles- Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra, and Lucretia Borgia- suggesting that they were all written for one particular boy-actor), Mr. Wills places the probable date of Macbeth’s writing at close enough to the Christmas Season of 1606, that he feels certain it must have been performed then (if nothing else, for the interest of King James, at seeing Banquo- Macbeth’s victim after Duncan- portrayed onstage, as the Stewart Line of Scottish Kings descended from Banquo). Something to remember: although Elizabeth passes in 1603, it takes awhile to move a King from Edinburgh to London, so it is (in 1606) a fairly new situation, James being King of England. The King and his people are getting to know one another, as it were, and it is interesting to note that two plays here (Lear and Macbeth) address very serious issues about kingship. Kind of like the Fool in Lear, I guess that Jacobean acting companies could say things to monarchs that others could not. For the record: I disagree with just about every one of Garry Wills’ interpretations of the Witches (although his take on Lady Macbeth is brilliant). He interprets the Witches as Evil (kind of from a Catholic point-of-view). I see the Witches much more from a Pagan point-of-view, which I think is how Shakespeare saw them as well. (I believe that Shakespeare tends to respond more readily to things of the country and the folkloric past, than to doctrinal things like Protestantism and Catholicism.)

But still in all: isn’t it interesting that 406 years ago, they were celebrating such a Witch-intensive dramatic Christmas Court? Blessed Yule, Pagans!

Dec 112012
 

Hans Baldung’s 1508 “Hexen”

For those interested in experimenting with an authentic early 17th century Witches’ Charm: I recommend (with certain cautions) the so-called “Weird Sisters Charm” (well, I so-call it), from Macbeth (c. 1605). Based upon some (I don’t know; maybe 18 years?) study of the “Charm”- it can be used as an Empowering-Spell Invocation; it can be used as a Magickal Energies “Winding Up” (Energy-Raising) instigation. Like Shakespearean Play-Writing in general, it can be enormously versatile- it can range in expression across the gamut of human emotion. It can be exceptionally (almost weirdly) uncanny in its manifestation: and it will manifest, if you call upon it. With the joy of innocence, I believe that it delights in being used freely; addressing the darker manifestations of human experience, it exists in its potency of power. However: the Darker the subject matter of your Working, the more Cautious you need to be in the “Weird Sisters’ Charm” application.

In Act I, scene iii, of Macbeth comes the moment prophesied by the Weird Sisters since the first lines of the first scene: their first meeting with Macbeth (they will meet with him again, later in the play, during the famous Cauldron Scene of Act IV, scene i). After the sound-cue “A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!”: the Three Witches (called the “Weyard Sisters,” or the “Weird Sisters,” in the text, after the “Sisters of Wyrd” of Teutonic Legend) enact the “Weird Sisters’ Charm”: “The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, posters of the sea and land, thus do go about, about! Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, and thrice again to make up nine! Peace! The Charm’s wound up.”

Please notice the nuanced brilliance of that last line: “Peace! The Charm’s wound up.” Almost an instruction to leave off your Spell-Working action, once the Charm has been enacted: Peace; it’s wound up. Nothing further is needed. Just leave the Spell alone now, and trust that your Magickal Intentions are in motion.

Witches “Winding Up a Charm,” in Orson Welles’ Macbeth

Curiously, the Charm can be invoked almost as a Buddhist meditation or as a Benediction: [imagine sitar music behind me, with the slow burning of sandalwood] “The Weird Sisters! Hand in Hand! Posters of the Sea and Land!” and so on. Or it can serve as a joyous celebration of living and merriment; I have fallen into rapture enough to perform the Charm almost like an ecstatic Hare Krishna round. Its versatility and adaptability are marvelous, and I believe that in the sincerity of Witchcraft Experimentation, a certain protection of innocence is conferred upon the invoker. Like Shakespearean writing in general, the “Weird Sisters’ Charm” invites the student to adopt the mindset of a 16th or 17th century individual (in this case, a 17th century Witch), creatively to inhabit the world-view of a Charm-Invoking Jacobean Sorceress. As such, I believe that the “Weird Sisters” of Shakespeare’s play enjoy being called into manifestation, in the Empowerment of their Charm (performed by the pure and the innocent, and the purely innocent Seeker).

However: there is a certain element of wildness, of unloosed elemental furies, implicit in late medieval Witches. This is seen with Prospero, in The Tempest; with the Witch-Dame in Masque of Queens (indeed, with their literary inspiration, Medea in Ovid’s Metamorphoses); this is particularly seen in early visual depictions of Witches, such as the famous “Hexen” [Witches], by Hans Baldung above. If you’re going to Invoke the “Weird Sisters’ Charm,” you need to have a willingness to embrace the Wildness of Nature and Witchcraft (and the potential Wildness of Magickal Response).

The Witches, in Macbeth; do YOU want to be the person who pisses these Ladies off?

Moreover: you need to be 100% certain that you are either operating in experimental innocence- or that you are 100% the innocent party in any Spell-Working which you seek to empower through the “Weird Sisters’ Charm.” Not for nothing is there serious theatrical superstition, that working with the Energies of “the Scottish Play” is not something to be taken lightly. Macbeth deals with dark and troubling issues- with the issue of crimes of violence and murder that humans can create. “The Weird Sisters’ Charm” is therefore ideally suited to address seriously dark and disturbing things, as I have come to believe that the Weird Sisters enjoy being unloosed to enact justice and “karmic blowback.” The darker the issue, the better able They are to handle it.

However: you cannot “play” or “game” the Weird Sisters. If you call Them: the first thing that They will do, is immediately to make an assessment of the situation at hand, and if They decide that you are trying to manipulate Them for nefarious reasons of your own- child, that Weird Sisters’ Charm is upon your head.

The Weird Sisters are infuriated by wickedness, evil, and cruelty, and truthfully love nothing better than to tackle and take down (in inimitable “Weird Sisters” fashion) Doers of Evil.

But they can’t be “played” (this is Macbeth’s final, most fatal mistake: he thinks that he can “play” the Weird Sisters. Oops, poor fool Macbeth: now there’s a Shakespearean Tragedy crashing upon your head). You have to be sure that you are in the “right” before you call upon the Sisters Three as arbiters of justice; because anything dodgy is going to be blown to the surface square-off.

If however, you are an innocent party- or are innocent of any motive beyond a desire to experience, and experiment with, early 17th century Witchcraft Invocation- you might find that the so-called “Weird Sisters’ Charm” of Shakespeare’s Macbeth can work wonders.

Incidentally, my friend Gary came across this cartoon in The New Yorker, and sent me this link: look for the one captioned “The Witches Discover the Wok”; it’s a hoot, and pretty obviously derived from the “Scottish Play!”

Dec 042012
 

Having “Wound Up” their Charm: “Hail Macbeth! Thane of Glamis and Cawdor! That shalt be King hereafter!”

In their book The Rede of the Wiccae: Adriana Porter, Gwen Thompson, and the Birth of a Tradition of Witchcraft (Olympian Press, 2005), Robert Mathiesen and Theitic discuss the “regular-meter” structure of traditional “Lore-Text”: “the metrical stresses fall on only the first, third, fifth, and seventh syllables, not on the second, fourth, and sixth. We write this pattern as ['-'-'-'].” (p. 59) What Mathiesen and Theitic recognize as “regular meter,” a Shakespearean will call “iambic meter”; meaning a line of verse, composed in alternating “STRESSED/ unstressed” syllables: “ONCE more UN-to THE breach, DEAR friends, ONCE more!” being the first line from the “Once more” speech from Henry V (Act I, scene iii), taught in Shakespeare Schools as an example of perfect “iambic pentameter.”

Shakespeare tends to write in “iambic pentameter,” meaning five groups of “iambs” (STRESSED/ unstressed syllables), resulting in a line of ten “beats” altogether. As Mathiesen and Theitic point out (p. 62), “In the English-speaking world, rhyming couplets in regular meter- as we have termed it- are traditional for literary representations of spells, as in Shakespeare’s Macbeth.” Mathiesen and Theitic go on to examine the “regular meter” structure (the “iambic” structure) of the “Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog” speech, from the Cauldron Scene (Act IV, scene i), as well as various other examples of Witch “Lore” such as Isobel Gowdie’s “Horse and Hattock” Charm, and an 1850s Healing Spell, before going to to consider the “regular meter” structure of some of the more antique of the rhyming couplets found in The Rede.

However much a Shakespearean will recognize “iambic pentameter” (a line of ten beats, of “STRESSED/ unstressed” syllables) as the Bard’s accustomed speech-pattern: Mathiesen and Theitic point out that “Witch Spells” tend to be rendered in sequences of seven; achieved by the tricky and witchy habit of ending each line on a “broken” iamb. Such an example we find in the “Weird Sisters Charm” of Macbeth (Act I, scene iii):

Macbeth’s Witches, “Winding Up” a Charm in their Cavern

“THE weird SIS-ters, HAND in HAND” [the first line of the Charm, consisting of seven syllables, in alternating "STRESSED/ unstressed" pattern, ending with a "broken"or an unfinished iamb]; “POST-ers OF the SEA and LAND” [ditto, as Mathiesen and Theitic say]; “THUS do GO, a-BOUT, a-BOUT” [note the "witchy trickiness" in emphasizing "About, About" at the end, which is a phrase often found in English Witch-Incantation]; “THRICE to THINE, and THRICE to MINE” [again, seven syllables of iambic "regular meter"]; “AND thrice A-gain, TO make UP NINE!!” [The last line requires eight syllables, leading to something interesting-]

The “Weird Sisters Charm” of Macbeth (Act I, scene iii) consists of four lines, of seven syllables each, before concluding in an eight-syllable line, with the Magickal Number of “Nine.” If you do the math: 4×7=28; 28+8=36; 3+6=9.

If you work your way through the text of the Charm: you kind of can’t help making your way through some sort of Magickal Labyrinth, towards some sort of Mystical Conclusion. At this point: “Peace, the Charm’s Wound Up.”

As Mathiesen and Theitic go on to note, the Witches resume this pattern of speech during the famous Cauldron Scene of [Act IV, scene i]; all of which suggests a habit of Witches deliberately speaking “Witchcraft” in a very “BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM” way: which becomes somewhat hypnotic in a sense; a little meditative; a bit reflective; a little suggestive of rhythmic clapping or even the steady beating of a drum.

Following the example of the “Weird Sisters’ Charm,” at a minimum,  you may wish to experiment with writing out “regular metered” Charms, each line of seven syllables, ideally ending with a rhyming couplet [two lines, whose two ending-words rhyme: "A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!" is actually a rhyming couplet.] You may wish to experiment with “the Charm” outright (I have some observations for you, if you do, as Part 3). At another minimum: consider the story told in “the Charm.”

The Weird Sisters (who are also “Posters of the Sea and Land,” meaning that they can travel with great velocity- almost like riding Magickal horses- over both sea and land; basically, they can fly) join “hand in hand,” forming a Circle. Now they “thus” go “about, about”: they begin to spin in a Circle. Following the instructions of the text, they go first “one way” three times; then they go “another way” three times; then they conclude “back this way,” three times.

Why do they do this? “Peace. The Charm’s wound up.”

They have “wound up a Charm.”

Now consider what Gerald Gardner says in Witchcraft Today (Magickal Childe Publishing, p. 20): “Witches are taught and believe that the power resides within their bodies which they can release in various ways, the simplest being dancing round in a circle, singing or shouting, to induce a frenzy.”

Dec 012012
 

Witches from Orson Welles’ Macbeth

“The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the Sea and Land, thus do go about, about! Thrice to thine, and Thrice to mine, and Thrice again, to make up Nine! Peace! The Charm’s wound up.”

In Act I, scene iii, of Macbeth, the action of the play gets set in motion “for real” once the Three Witches meet Macbeth. Immediately beforehand, though, they enact an odd little ceremony, pausing to recite the above. What means this strange little instance, and why is it now, at this moment in the show?

Well, presumably, Shakespeare’s audience is going to recognize “Macbeth” as a Witch-Story (meaning, a story with Witches in it), and Jacobean folklore and drama indicate to us that the early 1600s English found “Witches” and “Witchcraft” to be very fascinating things. So presumably, they are going to anticipate some “Witchcraft” in this play (and boy, are they ever going to get it, in the single most famous depiction of Witchcraft in Western Culture, the Cauldron Scene of Act IV, scene i. But that’s not until later in the show.) In the meantime, here’s a tasty appetite-whetting morsel of a Witchcraft Ceremony- a Witchcraft Ceremony that (once you understand the concept of Lore-Text) suggests to my mind nothing so much as: an early 1600s Lore-Text, describing a Witches’ Energy-Raising Ceremony.

The text seems to arrive in response to an unspoken question: What do the Wyrd Sisters do? The imagined answer would seem to comprise the text of the “Weird Sisters Charm” (as I call it).

“The Weird Sisters”: one of the Mysteries and Conundrums of the “Scottish Play” is the number of Identities that the enigmatic Three can encompass (the incredible variety with which they are portrayed on stage and screen testifies to this). At a minimum: Shakespeare’s era does not make hard-and-fast distinctions between Supernatural Entities; however much the Scots legend of “Macbeth” (being obviously Celtic) depends upon the unique Celtic conception of One Magickal Female Who is also Three Magickal Females (or Three Magickal Females Who act as One), a configuration seen, for instance, in popular TV shows- even in the original sources for the legend, whether these Three are Witches or Celtic Faerey-Women is never clear, and by the time of Shakespeare’s Anglo-Saxon Celtic Romanized England, clearly the Wyrd Sisters of the Teutonic Norns had entered the picture. For the record: the Three are identified by the speech prefixes in the 1623 Folio as “First Witch, Second Witch, Third Witch.” There is actually only one instance in the text (a curious and interesting one, in terms of Jacobean Witch-Lore) in which they are identified as “Witches.” The rest of the time, the text calls the Three “the Weird Sisters,” spelled either as “wayward” or “weyard”: indicating dialect pronunciation as well as a certain “out-of-control” quality to their Magicks; like, be careful about invoking Them, because their Entrance into a Magickal Working can be akin to unleashing tempests.

Witches “Posting”

Back to the Unasked Question: What do the Weird Sisters do? Answer: The Weird Sisters, hand in hand (the Sisters join hands; they must form a Witches’ Ring or Circle in doing this, Witches and Faeries both being heavily associated with Circle-Dancing in folklore); Posters of the Sea and Land (“post” being an antique verb used in relation to riding a horse, the implication is that the Witches are riding horses- over both Sea and Land; since this is plainly impossible, it must be metaphoric or Magickal “horses” that the Witches ride- such as perhaps, brooms? The final “take” is that the Witches are describing themselves as having Powers over Earth, Sea, and Air: kind of like Hecate, in earliest Greek myth, actually.) Thus do go about, about! Having formed a Circle by joining hands, the Three begin to spin in a Circle, thus going “about, about!” For the record (please just take my word for this now): “about, about” is a formula that one will encounter often in Elizabethan/ Jacobean Witch-Use; its presence seems to indicate the moment that the Energies will fly “about, about,” or get flung off, through the velocity of the Witches’ Circle, into the universe. Thrice to thine, and Thrice to mine, and Thrice again, to make up Nine!

The suggestion is that the Three are getting more and more “caught up” in their Circle-Spinning, going faster and faster, and even- in most delirious and disorienting fashion- changing directions, from “this way” to “that way” and then “back again.” One can almost begin to imagine a kind of eldritch Vortex or focused Cyclone of Energy beginning to form in their midst. But why do they do this?

The answer to that unspoken question arrives: Peace. The Charm’s wound up.

The Weird Sister Witches have performed this ritual- in order to “wind up a Charm.” Which seems so much to me like what Gerald Gardner described as “Witches raising Energy” in Witchcraft Today, that I think it should be noted.

Nov 302012
 

Witches “Posting” over Sea and Land

I think that there is a case (given the traditional structures of their respective mediums) to be made for a comparison between William Shakespeare’s Macbeth (c. 1605) and Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 modern horror classic Psycho- in that both masters twist and subvert the established conventions of the Jacobean stage and Hollywood film-making, to create deeply unnerving, anxiously suspenseful atmospheres. Consider for instance, that Shakespeare manages to “start” Macbeth a good four times before the play really begins. It’s not unusual for the Bard to “start” a play a couple of times- Romeo and Juliet “starts” with the Prologue, and then starts again, with servants to the House of Montague getting into a fight with servants of the House of Capulet in the Verona marketplace. But four separate beginnings comes to seem a little schizoid- especially as the Witches appear to be directing the audience through the play’s various openings.

The first characters whom we see in the play are the Witches, who emerge in [Act I, scene i] with the specific objective of announcing that they intend to meet again (a little later), this time to meet with (wait for it) Macbeth. Having promised the audience a soon-to-come Witch-Return: the Witches leave the stage. A canny opening, as Shakespeare’s audience undoubtedly associates the Scots legend of “Macbeth” with “Witches.” (Is there any other character in Western Literature as closely connected to Witches as Macbeth, except for Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz?) Having immediately seen Witches, and eager to see more Witches (and Witchcraft), Shakespeare’s audience will presumably find patience to sit through [Act I, scene ii]: the Exposition Scene.

A somewhat unfortunate tendency with Shakespeare is to start off his plays with an Exposition Scene, or a scene where people explain who they are, and where they are, and what is going on at that moment (Henry V is the most notorious of this category, opening with a group of courtiers discussing the various genealogies of the English king, going back several generations). Persons can develop the idea, therefore, that Shakespeare’s plays are uniformly long, talky, stagey affairs, somewhat unfortunately clouding their opinion before the show properly gets started.

In this Exposition Scene, we learn (in addition to all kinds of other things) that Duncan is King of Scotland; the villain-traitor the Thane of Cawdor has raised a force against Duncan’s just Sovereignty; and Macbeth, noble, valiant Macbeth- has decisively put down the rebellion. (In an ironic touch, our first introduction to Macbeth has the King praising him as a brave and loyal subject; oh poor, foolish Duncan.) In another ironic move, Duncan orders that Macbeth- already the Thane of Glamis- be also awarded the traitor’s title “Thane of Cawdor.”

Image of Witches, “Winding Up a Charm”

Done with this second opening of the show, we meet the three Witches again, at the top of [Act I, scene iii], as they basically discuss how they have spent their time between the first scene and this one, the third. This is the single instance in the show where the Witches are seen purely in terms of stereotypical Jacobean Hags: angry, bitter, vindictive creatures plotting a revenge upon someone who has pissed them off. As with some other instances in the show (such as the grotesque ingredients with which the Witches will brew their cauldron), this portion can be read as a “sop” to the Anti-Witch mindset of the early 1600s English, which “officially” held that Witches were a malevolent plague and scourge to their innocent, hard-working neighbors. However much this attitude may have been debated on a local or individual level (given that so-called “White Witches” or Wise-Women were generally counted on for healing and “positive Magick”), the position of Jacobean authorities (somewhat set by James I himself) was that Witches constituted a social threat, being plotting, dangerous individuals; a smart play-writer like Shakespeare will make certain that he does not dispute this stance.

Or at least not obviously. It is clear from the number of “Magick-Using” Plays of the late 1500s/ early 1600s, that there was considerable interest in Wizards and Witches (Macbeth is one example of many, of plays centered around Magick-Use somehow), and the exciting opportunity to “see” Witchcraft performed on the stage must have been part of this mystique.

Satiric 19th century depiction of Witches as “Posters of Sea and Land”

All the more intriguing then, that- at the final “opening” of the show, when the meeting for which we have been in anticipation since the play’s first opening occurs, namely when the Witches are finally face-to-face with Macbeth- they pause first to conduct a strange little ceremony.

In response to an off-stage sound-cue, “A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!” [Act I, scene iii, line 30], which indicates to us, by the way, that the Elizabethans and Jacobeans had drums, though we tend not to think of them as a “drumming culture” (like modern Pagans): the Witches apparently join hands (“hand in hand”), forming a ring or circle, and then recite the following odd ditty.

“The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the Sea and Land, thus do go about, about! Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, and thrice again, to make up nine! Peace! The Charm’s wound up.”

At this moment- Enter Macbeth: “So fair and foul a day, I have not seen.” The Witches greet Macbeth as both the Thane of Glamis and the Thane of Cawdor (surprising him, as he does not know this yet), before making the famous prophecy, that he shall “be King hereafter!” (Thus setting into final motion, the Tragedy.)

What to make of this odd little instance? (A lot of productions apparently don’t know what to make of it, and so cut it from their play-texts; it is actually not often performed in the show, I assume because it seems so strange to people.) But having introduced the idea of Lore-Text: I want to propose the theory that the “Weird Sisters’ Charm” (as I call it) constitutes an early 17th century Lore-Text, that describes (in “Winding Up a Charm”) an Energy-Raising Ceremony.

Next to Come: Analysis of the Charm’s text; its meter-structure; and some observations upon it as a practical Invoking Spell.

Nov 282012
 

Question: How do we remember what a “red sky at night” means to sailors? The same way that we remember what a “red sky at morning” means: through Lore-Text that tells us, “Red Sky at Night; Sailors’ Delight. Red Sky at Morning; Sailers, take Warning.” As Robert Mathiesen and Theitic point out in their book, The Rede of the Wiccae: Adriana Porter, Gwen Thompson, and the Birth of a Tradition of Witchcraft (p. 58), important information was often preserved and relayed in oral folk-culture through “Lore-Text”: “a brief text that conveys a piece of traditional knowledge or lore in a fixed form. Lore-texts include proverbs, weather rhymes, old sayings whether or not they are in rhyme, and so forth. A lore-text has a relatively fixed form of words in which it is handed down from one generation to the next. Although a lore-text can change with time, the change is from one fixed text to another.” As another example of lore-text, Prof. Kittredge provides (in Witchcraft in Old and New England) many examples of the folk-proverb, that “Vervain and Dill hinder Witches of their Will,” testifying to the purifying, protective aspects of the two herbs.

Antique oral-culture lore-text becomes significant to Mathiesen and Theitic in their examination of The Wiccan Rede, credited to Lady Gwen Thompson. Lady Gwen (of North Haven, Connecticut) is one of those early Witches on the scene, responsible for establishing the Craft in the United States. As she had been initiating people into what she described as a Hereditary-Family-Tradition of Celtic Witchcraft since the late ’60s, and was indeed the first High Priestess to initiate Eddie Buczynski into a Witch-Tradition, Lady Gwen is also covered (rather thoroughly) in Michael Lloyd’s Bull of Heaven: the Mythic Life of Eddie Buczynski and the Rise of the New York Pagan (according to Michael, Eddie used material from Lady Gwen’s Book of Shadows to create his own Welsh Tradition of Witchcraft).

Be that as it may- it is specifically the collection of rhyming couplets known as “the Wiccan Rede” that interest Mathiesen and Theitic (Michael also covers the Rede in Bull of Heaven, Chapter 18, “Black and White and Rede All Over”). Examining this series preserving bits of folk-wisdom (“Soft of eye an light of touch- speak little, listen much,” is one such example, which interestingly paraphrases Polonius’ advice in Hamlet, Act I, scene iii, line 68: “Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice”), Mathiesen and Theitic conclude that the majority of the couplets contained in the Rede give evidence of indeed being oral-culture Lore-Text (presumably collected from the late 19th century and early 20th, by Lady Gwen’s grandmother Adriana Porter, apparently something of a folklore hobbyist). None of these (alas) give evidence of a Witchcraft sensibility, much less a “Wiccan” one. The few that do- like the famous “Bide the Wiccan laws ye must, in perfect love an perfect trust,” and “Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill- an it harm none, do what you will”- Mathiesen and Theitic conclude must have been constructed by another, later individual (most likely Lady Gwen), inspired by her grandmother’s collection of antique couplets to create her own “Wiccanate” ones.

My point is less to blow apart cherished Wiccan mythologies, than to point out that Robert Mathiesen and Theitic introduce the concept of “Lore-Text” into the proceedings: Lore-Text, an oral-culture means of preserving wisdom and useful advice, often in a rhyming manner, which facilitates easy-memory. Which brings us (as things will) to the most famous depiction of Witches in the Western World: William Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Performed in 1605 and published in 1623, the Tragedy unquestionably dates to the earliest 17th century. Its Witches are undeniably compelling, as well as notoriously controversial (of course, one can make the argument that this applies to Witches in the early 17th century as a whole, not just to Mr. Shakespeare’s). Virtually every thing that the Witches do onstage during the show, one can go over and over and over, reading meaning and postulating theory: for the now, I want to draw attention to the odd little ceremony that the Witches enact in Act I, scene iii (immediately before Macbeth’s entrance, signaled by the line, “A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!”). I call the Witches’ text here, “the Weird Sisters Charm,” and want to propose that it serves as a Lore-Text: a Lore-Text that preserves the memory and information of a Energy-Raising Ceremony.

Coming Next: “Posters of the Sea and Land.”

Nov 272012
 

Of all of Shakespeare’s plays, it is safe to say that only one has taken on such a life of its own, that it arrives with a Curse attached to it. So powerful is the superstition of a Hexed play, that the Tragedy’s name (Macbeth) is not allowed to be spoken in theaters, save only through the euphemistic “the Scottish Play.” Further evidence of this widespread belief is seen in the many (many) websites devoted to: the Curse of the Scottish Play!! Some of these will describe the “Curse” in terms of “Unexplained Mysteries,” others as an example of “Paranormal Stories” (look for the site that arrives with crashing thunder and lightening). Others will detail the Theatrical History of the Curse (a bit obscure, since no one really understands when the superstition of a “Curse” settled over the play; most likely, it must have been fairly far back in the play’s history, probably at a time when people were more likely to remember and credit Witchcraft belief: I’m imagining, the late 1600s/ early 1700s, perhaps?) Even Lone Conspirators will get into the Supernatural Malignancy of “the Scottish Play.”

Astor Place Riot; result of the Curse of the Scottish Play?

Reading these accounts and others, one will hear time and again of the Boy-Actor playing Lady Macbeth in the original production, who died suddenly backstage, forcing Shakespeare himself to strip off the dead boy’s costume and go on in his stead (as the only other actor who knew the lines). A dramatic story, but one not mentioned in any contemporaneous account; most likely, it is one of those strange “Shakespeare Apocrypha” tales that sprang up in the 1700s, like the one where Shakespeare passed out under an oak tree in Stratford once, and woke up having dreamed A Midsummer Night’s Dream. One will also hear the litany of stories about backstage calamities that befell various companies performing the play (time and again, you will come across that scenery-weight that almost took out Laurence Olivier). You will find reference to the Astor Place Riot of 1849, when a mob of supporters of one Shakespearean actor (who was performing the “Scottish Play” in New York), attacked a mob of supporters of a rival actor (also performing “the Scottish Play”). Persons in the 19th century took their Shakespeare very seriously, as we see.

The Witches greet Macbeth and Banquo

The most interesting of these stories are the ones that allege that there is a Curse attached to the play: because it carries “too much” of Jacobean Witchcraft within it. Watch for the stories that tell you how to “remove” the Curse (as the Wikipedia entry on “The Scottish Play” puts it, “cleansing rituals” that may be performed, in order to “cleanse” out the baleful): by spinning around three times in a Circle (effectively “unwinding” a Malign Charm, and seemingly taking direction from the Witches’ reference in [Act I, scene iii] to “Winding Up” their “Charm”); which seems to me as neat a way to conceptualize “Raising Energy” in the early 1600s as one might wish to find. Equally interesting are the stories that allege that there is “actual Witchcraft Ceremony” built into the play, compelling the actors (as they recite the lines) to mimic, and invoke, the dreaded Powers of Witchcraft from the dim and dark Past. Check out the stories that Shakespeare “stole” the information about the Witches’ Craft from actual Jacobean Witches, who in a vengeful fury, Cursed the Play forever!! (Cue crashing thunder.)

Check out how these stories concede “actual” Witches, who “actually” perform a type of Craft that can be transmitted via the stage. Often it is the infamous ingredients of the “Witches’ Brew” in the Cauldron Scene of Act IV, scene 1, that attract the attention- the “eye of newt, and toe of frog,” and such-like; but I think these are “fake-outs” on Shakespeare’s part, an appeasement to the “Anti-Witch” sentiments of the Jacobean Age, and a cover for, and distraction from, what these conspiratorial stories seem to concede is a “real thing”: that there are “rituals” encoded in the Witches’ lines and scenes, that will invariably “recreate” Jacobean Witchcraft. (And yes, I expect that this must be an alarming thing to a modern actor, who likely as not has no context into which to place such things. Now, as for a modern Witch or Wiccan, or someone who has read Gerald Gardner’s Witchcraft Today, with his descriptions of “Raising Energy”: I think it might be another matter.) The long and the short: I believe that if you read the “Scottish Play” correctly (and are familiar with Gardner’s descriptions of “Energy Raising”), you can easily discern “Witches Raising Energy” within it. (Most clearly in the “Weird Sisters Charm” of Act I, scene iii, just prior to their meeting the Thane of Glamis, and most famously, in the somewhat camouflaged “Eye of Next” speech, in the Cauldron Scene that opens Act IV). It is not necessary, however, for Shakespeare to “steal” this information from Witches (as certain of the “Curse” stories would have it, although this implies that he must have- kind of like Gerald Gardner- met and been initiated, in “secret, black, and midnight” manner, into “Witchcraft,” by “Witches”): the fact that Thomas Middleton and Ben Jonson (twice) equally depict “Witches” as employing what might be understood as “Energy-Raising Rituals,” as the “Witchcraft” in their own Witch-Plays- suggests to me that “Energy-Raising” is generally understood throughout the Elizabethan and Jacobean Eras as “What Witches Will Do,” in order to perform what is known as the “Craft of Witches.”

Jan 272012
 

The death of Scots actor Nicol Williamson was reported on Thursday, Jan. 26, 2012. As described by Bruce Weber in the New York Times, “Nicol Williamson, a Mercurial Actor, Is Dead at 75” (Obituaries, p. A29), Mr. Williamson could be difficult to work with; I remember his performing I Hate Hamlet in the early ’90s, with it being the rare experience of the performer’s conduct overshadowing the show. Nonetheless, as Jason points out on the Wild Hunt, Williamson was Merlin in arguably the finest “King Arthur” film, and- as Mr. Weber considers, “perhaps because his aggrieved Scottish temperament seemed so suitable”- he played Macbeth more than once, notably in the BBC Shakespeare series. The YouTube clip that shows Macbeth’s pivotal meeting with the Witches (IV.i) demonstrates Williamson’s ferocious concentration as an actor: watch as the scene (and camera) basically settle onto his face, and admire as he holds the scene with his expressions, his thoughts, and his actor’s will. The depiction of the Witches is unique: more so than any other production that I have seen, this presents the Witches as village Wise-Women, positioning them against the Callanish Stones to reinforce their identities as ancient Forces upon the British Isles. (This is perhaps the most benign interpretation of the Three Witches that you are likely to come across.) But check out how this scene becomes about nothing but Mr. Williamson’s face, and his actor’s commitment to his part.