For some reason of their own, the Theater Gods have moved the universe to create three separate productions of Macbeth within a six week period here in NYC (the theatrical season this April, 2011, is very Scottish Play-saturated). Opening in late March was Theatre For A New Audience’s very fine production (please see in the Juggler below); opening today (and running through May 14) is Sleep No More, a “site-specific” show produced by Punchdrunk, a British Experimental theater company who have commandeered three empty warehouses quite far to the west side of 27th Street, where they lead participants through a fantastic series of sets that serve as the “behind-the-scenes” representation of the play. According to the Times’ review, one of the “knockout pieces” is an “unnerving” Black Mass, led by “three ambisexual witches.”

OK- never mind how we might feel about Witches conducting a Black Mass (which is properly something that Satanists do); what interests me is that the Witches are “ambisexual.” I really think that the next “thing” in Macbeth interpretation is to play with the gender-identities of the Witches (who are supposed to be- finally- such Creatures Not of this world, they transcend gender somehow altogether, as Macbeth’s joke upon first meeting them makes clear- “You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so” [I.iii.45]). This is a joke on the guy-actors who originally played the Witches, yes, but adds to our understanding of them as Eldritch Beings- are they male? are they female? How can one finally say, really?  

Unless, of course, you eschew dealing with physical Witches altogether, which is the choice made by the British company Cheek By Jowl, in their production currently showing at BAM: the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Very much of the Expressionistic school, Cheek By Jowl’s actors were dressed in black jeans, black T-shirts, and simple black dresses. There were no props, except for large blocks used variously; a small number of company actors provided an upstage Chorus and struck a variety of effective tableaux; the most impressive effects were achieved through lighting.

And it all worked very well, for a highly unique interpretation. For starters, I have never seen Lady Macbeth played as a ditz before, and I have never encountered so neurotic a Macbeth.

This soon-to-be Queen, far from being fiend-like, is so gleefully merry over the exciting prospect of Queenship, it almost seems churlish to hold murdering a man in his sleep against her; the actress (Anastasia Hille) managed a nifty bit of business (never seen this before), when she tried to pass off Macbeth’s fit over seeing Banquo’s Ghost during the banquet as a brilliantly comic pantomime, laughing uproariously and urging the guests to applaud.

Will Keen’s Macbeth stands out in the roster of Macbeths for being such a tightly wound bundle of nerves, his voice clenched with anxiety as he contemplated Duncan’s killing. This is a Macbeth who comes perilously close to a total breakdown immediately after the crime; and yet is such a cunning, aggressive little runt of a man, he keeps challenging himself to confront more and more murder. Definitely a fascinating and individualized interpretation.

The Witches’ Scenes were performed with the other actors standing upstage, shadowed in silhouette, the female actors calling out the Witches’ lines as the male actors repeated them in a murmuring undertone. From the perspective of Macbeth and Banquo (facing house-front), the effect was disembodied voices speaking from the air.

It was actually effective, and was clearly a solution to the problem of keeping the cast streamlined. Again, a problem was that many of the Magickal elements of the Witches’ Scenes were cut- the Weird Sisters Charm was not delivered; there was no Cauldron Speech at all (that is, no “eye of newt, and toe of frog”; the scene opened with Macbeth’s first questioning the Three); at the end of the scene (as there were no physical Witches), there was no “Charming the Air to give a Sound,” with the execution of an “Antic Round.”

It was interesting, as the Witches started to seem like the prophetic Voices of Revelatory Goddesses.

However, the sense of engineering a Rite of Magick is not possible without physical agents, and there was not really anyone on hand in a position to challenge Macbeth on his murders- until Macduff, of course, takes him out in the end.

But still and all, a really enjoyable night of theater.

 

A remarkable thing to observe is that Witches are presented very differently in plays during the Elizabethan Era, than they are during the Jacobean. For all that Elizabeth is reinforcing laws enacted under her father (Henry VIII) that “criminalize” the Magickal Arts, it appears as if an unseeing, if not outright sympathetic, eye was turned towards Magickal Practice; in the first flourishing of Elizabethan theater in the 1580s, Witches (as presented in various plays by Lyly and Greene, at least) are Prophetic Wise-Women and Magick-Working Sorceresses, and we can see much evidence in Elizabethan culture attesting to considerable interest in the Magickal Sciences.

Then Elizabeth dies in 1603, and James VI of Scotland (her nearest relative, as her aunt, Henry’s sister, had married the King of Scotland; therefore Elizabeth was a cousin to Mary, Queen of Scots, mother to James) succeeded her to the throne of England, as James I (presumably finding England a more congenial realm than fractious, unruly Scotland).

James is a bit of a difficult case. Like Elizabeth, he was a man who appreciated calm, order, and quiet. He was very sober-minded and practical in his judgements, and England, under his reign, enjoyed the last period of tranquility that she would know until the Restoration, because James’ death brings his son Charles (I) to the throne, and the fights with Parliament that lead to the Civil War, and Charles’ losing his head to Cromwell, and the resulting Puritan Commonwealth.

However judicious James is in his rule, he arrives in England with an interesting personal history concerning Witches. Like many, many other Conservative types of the era, James is very Opposed to Witches, as Threats to the Moral Order of the Christian World. He is not a Witch-Hunter, and it is wrong to assume that Crazed Witch-Hunting broke out over England upon his arrival (it didn’t). He was not the sort of man who liked Witch-Hunting atmospheres, because they seemed too out-of-control and therefore potentially dangerous and threatening; like Elizabeth, he did not “do” reckless, threatening danger, so there is nothing so unruly as Witch-Hunting outright during Jacobean England.

 While King of Scotland, however, he published an anti-Witch book called Daemonologie, in 1597 (publishing firmly anti-Witch books and tracts and such like was an increasingly faddish thing to do throughout the 1500s, as Conservative medieval types reacted to the publication of the Malleus Maleficarum in the late 1400s). Moreover, James had become personally involved in the notorious case of the North Berwick Witches of Scotland, in 1590. One of the first, and most savagely outrageous, of the Scottish Witch-Cases, the North Berwick case started with a servant-girl who appeared suddenly to display remarkable healing powers.

Well, who can guess what happens next? Apprehension, accusation, and savage, savage, savage Scottish torture (the Scots and the Germans- to judge from the Witch-Times, both the Scots and the Germans could torture people like nobody else). Accomplices “named”; more apprehensions; more torture, more torture, more torture- finally there is an entire (alleged) Coven of North Berwick Witches, and (after much brutal torture) it has come out that they even attempted to murder King James while he was at sea, escorting his new bride (Anne of Denmark) back to Scotland. (The accounts of the North Berwick Witches’ raising tempests in order to wreck James’ ship have become kind of famous in Witch-Lore, discussed in a kind of surreal manner by Margaret Murray.)

Well, with one anti-Witch book to his royal name, and an official Case of evil, evil, evil Witches conspiring against him on the records- folks in England are going to be making a point to be extremely Not Into Witchcraft (horrible, horrible business of the Devil, Witchcraft is, for sure!), once James gets to England.

Therefore, when Shakespeare’s company (newly elevated to the status of The King’s Men: it was the protocol for acting companies to be sponsored by aristocratic patrons; the fact that Shakespeare’s company was honored as The King’s Men upon James’ ascension pretty much indicates that they were regarded as the premiere acting company in London) presents Macbeth for His Majesty (the Stuarts of Scotland were descended from the unfortunate Banquo of the play: it is important to remember that Macbeth opens with Witches prophesying for two men, Macbeth and Banquo; like the Thane of Glamis, the Stuart line of Scotland appears very “mixed up” with Witches): when the actors perform Macbeth for His Majesty, they are going to be very careful to show Witches according to the “proper” Jacobean interpretations- meaning grotesque, demented Hags, reveling in Horror.

There is going to be enough of a Jacobean veneer on these Witches to pass the muster of the court.

That does not mean that there is not a Mystery Rite of Witchery performed within the play.

It just means that you have to know what to disregard, and what to pay attention to.

 

In the Playbill for their new production of Macbeth (playing through April 22, and caught by me and my good Witch-friend Lynne yesterday afternoon), Theatre For A New Audience includes several Perspectives on the work (including one by Sigmund Freud, on the peculiar relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth). The second of these (from Terry Eagleton’s William Shakespeare) is something which I have always held (in my heart) to be very true: “The witches are the heroines of the piece, however little the play itself recognizes the fact, and however much the critics may have set out to defame them. The witches are exiles [from the rest of Scottish society in the play, which society, as we see, is a very violent one], inhabiting their own sisterly community on [Scotland's] shadowy borderlands, refusing all truck with its tribal bickering and military honours.”

In other words, within this play which is so preoccupied with ruthless men who forcibly seek bloody power, there is only one Force that can act as the arm of retribution, only one Power that can enforce Payback upon the murdering Thane of Glamis (Macbeth): the Pagan presence of three Witches, who purposefully live apart from the scheming society of the rest of the play, and who are therefore in a position to work vengeful Justice on behalf of the helpless victims of the tyrant-thane. Few things drive me crazy faster than those who “read” Macbeth as the tale of a basically-nice guy (the play ironically opens with Macbeth hailed as a valiant, upstanding sort), regretfully led astray by three malicious, evil-plotting Witches. No, no, no (I go): Macbeth is the VILLAIN of the piece! However much he may (or may not) have premeditated King Duncan’s murder beforehand- once he receives the Witches’ prophecy (and this is no more than, say, receiving a Tarot card reading from them that says, You will be King), he sets about plotting and conspiring with his wife (now his criminal accomplice) to MURDER the king, and to MURDER anyone else who can possibly present a threat.

Macbeth is, in short, one of Shakespeare’s great lead Murderer-Characters; unlike, however, Iago or Richard III- Macbeth spends the majority of the play increasingly tormented over the ghastliness of his crimes (as does his wife).

The Witches (incidentally) are seldom identified as “Witches” outright in the text; they are invariably called “the Weird Sisters.” (In the original accounts of the Macbeth legend/ history, the Three are Celtic Faerie-Women.) I suppose a Pagan, in considering the play Macbeth, would first have to determine if they will consider the Wyrrd Sisters or a trio of Celtic Faerie-Women (never mind Witches) to be villains- or if they will agree that (surely) if anyone is a villain here, it is perhaps the guy who finally murders women and their children (Lady Macduff and her kids), and that rather, the Eldritch Three (in a Pagan Karma sort of way) preside in a grimly gleeful attitude, as the punishments of Conscience and Fate  are tumbled upon Macbeth and Lady Macbeth’s evil, murdering heads (the Three are the Sisters of Fate, remember).

Theatre For A New Audience’s production has justly garnered rave reviews; it is a wonderful presentation of the work- with one (unfortunate) lapse: the Witches didn’t really work. I totally appreciate the direction that I believe TFANA was going in- as we saw above, their idea was to project the Witches as (indeed) emblems of Heroic Justice. Totally want to say, props to that; alas, the execution kind of fell a bit short.

Very well-regarded Classical actor John Douglas Thompson was one of the most dynamic Macbeths whom I have seen, riding from hysterical waves of terror to a eerily (and scarily) self-contained focus. His rendition of the famous speech “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” was a powerhouse expression of bitter, nihilistic fatalism; most frightening of all were his outbursts into joyful (and off-putting) displays of geniality and bonhomie.

Annika Boras’ Lady Macbeth was much more a trepidatious, fearful woman than is usual for the “Fiend-like Queen”; she really only ever got her resolve “on” when her partner lost his, and immediately after Duncan’s murder began to appear as if she already felt herself way-in-over her head. The strange co-dependency of the Macbeth relationship came to seem almost pitiful in this production, as both spouses almost instantly came to perceive neither of them to be really fit for ruthless murder- but felt so bound to fulfill the desires of the other, they both wade in deeper and deeper, into more and more treacherous waters.

Graham Winton made much more of an impression as the sympathetic Banquo than is common (this is the first production that I have ever seen which made me feel that Banquo might be a fun part to play). Roslyn Ruff left an indelible impression in her one scene as the tragic Lady Macduff, and Albert Jones’ reactions as Macduff to the news of his family’s slaughter were heart-breaking. Justin Blanchard managed to make Malcolm a memorable role (this is unusual); a special call-out to High School For The Performing Arts student Marquis Rodriguez, who more than held his own onstage among these accomplished adults, as Fleance and Young Macduff.

As to the Witches, and my confession of disappointment in the show: I find that the Witches’ Scenes are seldom (in my opinion) performed correctly in Macbeth, and I attribute this to my belief that few people nowadays have an idea of how to interpret the Witches’ Scenes magickally- because I think the Witches’ Scenes are intended to be played as Magickal Ceremonies, akin to visiting a Volva or a Shaman.

I don’t think TFANA had any such idea in mind. Their intention was (I believe) to break away from the grotesque Hags of stereotypical Macbeths (props, props, props to TFANA for that), but what they replaced them with- didn’t quite work.

This was a production that intended to be ground-breaking for casting the Witches as men (the Weird Sisters in this show were a trio of guys). Again- props to TFANA for “outside-the-box” casting choices (I was really psyched when I heard that they were doing the show with Guys-As-Witches); I don’t think that was successful, though, finally- there are just too many lines that refer to the “Sisters” not to have females in the parts, and the gender-confrontation of three supernatural Females challenging one amoral Male was lost.

The actors were clearly cast to look alike, and truthfully, they all looked like Jesus Christ, with long hair and beards, dressed in a sort of gunny-sacks, running around looking appalled at all the murdering violence going on around them. Again- LOVE the impulse to recast the Witches as the Forces of outraged Moral Order (as the agents of Justice): but the (customary) grotesque personalities of Demented Witches wasn’t replaced by anything, except a bland sort of wuzzy-fuzzy “goodness.” The Guy-Witches didn’t have any personality to them, and therefore, their pivotal scenes with Macbeth were kind of empty.

Worse- the more overtly Magickal components to the Witches’ parts were removed; they didn’t perform the Weird Sisters Charm (I find that the Charm is often cut, primarily, I assume, because I don’t think people today understand what to do with it), as well as the Witches’ final speech (containing the reference to the “antic round”). Far from executing any sort of Witches’ Circle-Dance in the Cauldron Speech, the Three bizarrely dropped themselves into trapdoors in the stage, spending the remainder of the scene popping up out of the floor, regrettably “rooted” into strangley static positions.

Moreover, they never engaged Macbeth; they never challenged or confronted him. Whereas I want Witches who will get into Macbeth’s face- these were three very passive Hippie Dudes, dressed in burlap-sacks, who exuded little personality and even less moral authority.

This was a fantastic production of Macbeth; unfortunately, there was a huge gap exactly where you don’t want a gap to be- because the one thing for which the “Scottish Play” is famous, is its Witches.

 

My good Witch-friend Lynne shares my enthusiasm for the Bard of Avon (in fact, we have tickets for Theater For A New Audience’s production of Macbeth this weekend, which is supposed to be really good, and we’re looking forward to it very much). Somehow in her various researches, she came across the following, a “Witches’ Song” sheet with music and lyrics, for a song performed by “Mrs. Clive” in a production of Macbeth. The song (as we see it below) was published in 1740, and is held as Museum Piece # S.2473-2009, in the H. Beard Print Collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum, UK. I imagine it was incorporated into “the Scottish Play” at some point between the Restoration (1660s) and (obviously) 1740, when the impulse to “dress up” Shakespeare as much as possible was evident. For all that (I don’t believe) the song is original to Shakespeare’s production- it plainly is as old as 1740, and tells us something about the antique English folk-lore concerning Witches: namely, that they dance in Circles quite often.

 As we see from the lyrics below: “Sometimes about a hollow Tree, around, around, around dance we.” [I assume that there is a nuance to the "hollowness" of the tree, as a hollow tree is a both a solid substance (a tree) which is paradoxically open to the air. "Around, around, around"- we see Witches dancing in a Circle, with an emphasis on the motif of "three"; basically, we see here a 1740s description of Witches Ring-Dancing.] “And thither the chirping [?] Crickets come, and Beetles sing in drowsy hum. Sometimes we dance o’er [?], to howls of Wolves or barks of [?].” I can’t quite make out the writing on the sheet- “Sometimes we dance o’er Fields and Lands, to howls of Wolves or barks of Hounds” would satisfy the rhyme and intention of the Song, I believe. Anyway, then we come to the conclusion: “Or if with none of these we meet, we dance to the Echoes of our Feet.”

Basically, the song appears to describe Witches dancing “around, around, around” a hollow tree. This dancing inspires Nature and the Night to join in: crickets and beetles offer a buzzing, humming accompaniment. Then- as is often the case, as in Jonson’s Masque of Queens- the Witch-Dancing gets wilder and crazier, as they begin to move around the vicinity, roaming over the environment, with howling and barking creatures joining in now. However- should nothing else be met with: the Witches are content to to dance to the “Echoes of our Feet.” This seems to my mind a brilliant way to describe how dancing (even without drumming) can become a self-generating occupation; the rhythm of the dancer’s own feet starts to serve as the drumming rhythm, and the impetus for the Dance to continue.

All of which seems to me to suggest Witches raising up Witch-Energies as their Witchcraft, ie: why do the Witches dance “around, around, around” in a Circle, to the “Echoes of their Feet”? Perhaps- to raise up Witch-Energy?

Thanks so much, good Witch-friend Lynne, for this fantastic Witch-Artifact! 

 

It is interesting to observe that Shakespeare employs the same “set up-psych” construction in opening both Hamlet and Macbeth. Presumably expecting that his audience would anticipate (1) a Ghost in Hamlet, and (2) Witches in Macbeth, Shakespeare starts the one show with soldiers standing guard on a castle turret, when they spy- a Ghost! Then Shakespeare opens the other play with a brief, itsy scene (12 lines) introducing- Witches! However, the Witches scurry off the stage and (as in Hamlet), having whetted the audience’s attention with Supernatural Beings- Shakespeare settles in for the Exposition Scene.

A sort of regrettable tendency of Shakespeare’s is to start off his plays with an Exposition Scene, in which the characters stand around and explain everything going on in the life of the play up until that very moment. Thus, often our very first impression of a Shakespeare play is a bunch of people standing there talking, in a species of language kind of difficult for us to understand, with little apparently happening, and we kind of tend to tune out and perhaps start to find Shakespeare a bit on the dull, talky, unfathomable side. (This tendency hits a high-mark in Henry V, when the play literally opens with nobles hanging out, discussing Henry’s royal genealogies, down to an accounting of aristocratic landholdings, in what seems to us a really long, pointless display, but which to the Elizabethans represented the display of essential truths in “understanding” how France- to their minds- “belonged” to the English, hence Henry’s military forays which culminated in the Battle of Agincourt.)

However- having first excited our imaginations with the thrilling apparition of a Ghost and the mesmerizing glimpse of Witches- Shakespeare encourages us to sit through the Scene of Exposition, in which all the tedious details of what’s the deal where, both in Denmark and Scotland, are hashed over, because we are trustful that patience will reward us with more Ghosts and Witches. A play-writer who does not disappoint his contracts with his audience, Shakespeare gratifies our patience with more of what we wish to see in the very next scene: in Hamlet, that is a longer, spine-chilling interview with a Spirit from Beyond the Grave, the Ghost of the murdered Father of a Princely Son; in Macbeth, it is a longer scene with the Witches, during which they meet Macbeth for the first time.

One can argue then, that Macbeth does not truly start until (I.iii), when the Wyrrd Sisters first meet the Scottish Thane (something akin to a knight).

The off-stage sound-cue of a drum alerts the Witches as to Macbeth’s approach: “A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!” (This actually makes no sense, as Macbeth and his pal Banquo are traveling alone, so why would either one of them be drumming, unless they do so to pass the time?)

The Witches then (to judge from the text) join hands, to dance in a ring together, whilst reciting the Wyrrd Sisters Charm: “The Wyrrd 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.”

A fascinating, extraordinary piece of construction, the Wyrrd Sisters Charm, fastened together with an esoteric architecture akin to that of the Pyramid of Giza; although deceptively simple on the surface, one can pry deeper and deeper into its depths, uncovering a display of virtually every “lore-text” element common to the time, considered advisable to incorporate into an effective Magickal Witches’ working. Not of the least interest is that its “story” seems to mime an Energy-Raising ceremony, as the Three spin in a circle, and spin in a circle, and spin in a circle- until: “Peace! The Charm’s wound up.”

Whatever justification may be found for the Witches’ ceremony in joining hands and spinning in a circle is discovered in the last line, as they conclude their activity- Peace. They have “wound up a Charm.”

A Charm- to judge- is a Thing best wound-up, and spinning in a circle apparently an admirable way to “wind up” a Charm.

As to Winding up a Charm- that (to my mind) is a Thing very akin to Raising up Energies. 

I believe that, to Shakespeare’s audience, considering therefore that Macbeth does not (really) start until the Winding up of a Witches’ Charm- everything else that happens in the play after (and a lot happens in the play, much of it very violent), occurs in an atmosphere of Charged Magick, and in the presence of a Wound-Up Charm.

 

By the pricking of my thumbs- something wicked this way comes!

Open Locks- whoever knocks!

How now, you secret, black, and midnight Hags! What is’t you do?

A Deed without a Name.

And so (for the second time in the play), Macbeth meets the Weird Sisters. (IV.i) Now, Shakespeare’s play is so jam-packed with Witch-Stuff, even this little four-line exchange has tons going on within it; in the first line alone (which consists of two 7 beat phrases): we find So Much Stuff.

(1) By the pricking of my thumbs: this is a very strange, cryptic, and suggestive remark (among the intriguing elements is the iambic meter of its pacing, but leave that for now). It is one of those odd, “behind the scenes” things that suggest (finally) sustained ergot-usage. Ergot is a type of fungus that will form on rye-grains in wet growing conditions; eating ergot (baked into bread for instance) will produce sensations akin to taking LSD. Continued exposure to ergot-effects (apparently) will start to mess with the nerve-endings in one’s extremities- producing odd “pricking/ pinching” effects.

The fact that the symptoms of ergot-exposure mirror those complained of by persons feared to suffer bewitchment, leads modern historians to address whether outbreaks of ergotism were responsible for outbreaks of Witch-Hunting. (This comes up in That Bones Episode.)

Also suggestive is the hard-core cultural belief that if you should “see” Faeries- the Faeries will “pinch” you. (This is the thing going on at the end of Merry Wives of Windsor, where the disguised “Faeries” are torturing Falstaff by “pinching” him; folklorist Katharine Briggs has established all over the place the folklore connections between Faeries and “pinching.” Carlo Ginzburg, in Ecstasies (p. 304), also comments upon various European expressions connected with ergot, such as a German expression that: a Werewolf sits amongst the Rye.

People who “see” Faeries get “pinched” by Faeries, and “pinching/ pricking” is associated with Witchcraft: hence the Witch’s remark, By the pricking of my thumbs-

(2) Something Wicked this way comes: according to Wikipedia, this Really Famous Shakespeare Phrase can potentially refer to a ton of stuff, including television episode-titles (including the inevitable Charmed) and many music pieces. However it is probably most famous as the title of a 1962 Ray Bradbury novel, adapted into a 1983 film. By the pricking of my thumbs, something Wicked this way comes. So- what happens next? What’s the next thing to happen?

Open Locks- whoever knocks!

Open Locks- locks- some sort of locks that have been erected or placed- presumably to protect and contain the Power of the Witches’ Energies- their Circle, their Space- their Spell of Enchantment.

What what does this sound like, how does this sound familiar? Perhaps because it seems to sound very much like the thing that we do when someone leaves or enters the Circle- we Cut them In and we Cut them Out.

We briefly Open the Locks that we have placed upon the Circle.

So now, with the Locks open- here comes something Wicked (Macbeth), who says basically, Hey Hags- what are you doing?

Now that the 3 have Cut Macbeth into the Circle-Space (the Atmosphere of Witchcraft, held and contained within the cavern-space of the cave that the Witches are in; they’re in a cave or a cavern, by the way, as this is going on), so now, they answer his question.

[We do] a Deed without a Name.

And so begins in earnest (now that the Energy-Raising of the Cauldron Speech is done, and Macbeth “cut into” the Circle; it’s basically a Magicke Bubble that they are in, tho, cause they’re inside this cave): the most famous scene of Witchcraft (and Spirit Conjuration) in the entire world.

All posts are the copyright of the individual authors. Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha