Love's Labour's Lost

I recently took you on a walk with me through UCSB.  One of the most powerful and meaningful experiences of my life, one I still cherish so much and think of fondly, was studying Shakespeare by producing a play. In the spring quarter of 1984, I enrolled in 8 units with Professor Homer "Murph" Swander, who knew that Shakepeare's plays were meant to be on the stage, not on the page, and the "plays" that we read and study in school are really scripts.  He referred to them as scripts and treated them as scripts.

The play we produced was Love's Labour's Lost, and what a joy it was! This play is so amazing in language and wit.  It is fast-moving and absolutely chock-full of word-play.  It is a play that isn't produced very often, and I can't understand it, because is is so. much. fun! If you ever have the opportunity to see a production, go see it!  But skip the Kenneth Branagh film.  It stunk!

The program cover

We were all English students, not drama majors, but it didn't matter, because Murph's direction was impeccable, and we were encouraged (nay, required!) to look to the text for directions in how to play lines and scenes. We looked to the meter, to the punctuation, to the rhymes.  We compared the folio version to the quarto, and from one modern editor's punctuation to another's.  If there was a question in meter or punctuation, the original folio or quarto usually won out.

Every week we were expected to examine some aspect of our character, consult the text (always the text!  The text shows you the way!) and write an essay.   Here are some examples of what I wrote.

Early in scene 9, after the ladies have shared their gifts with one another, the Princess, Maria, and Rosaline all have speeches about wit, wisdom, and fools (lines 69-78). As it happened in rehearsal, I (Katharine) was sitting alone, wile the other three were grouped together center stage, speaking these lines. At that moment, I realized that not giving Katharine a similar speech was just as significant as the speeches themselves, especially since they all express more or less the same ideas. Prof. Swander said that some directors leave out Rosaline's and Maria's speeches, since they repeat what the Princess says. Obviously, leaving them in would show a contrast to Katharine.

 Murph noted, "Terriffic!!" and after I had explored this further in the next page, wrote, "Splendid!"  Yay, me!

This was another typical "Journal" exploration:

First, a question:  Two lines have been puzzling me. (Scene 9, l. 213-214)

King: Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
Rosaline: You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.

This is a question of meter. In the Penguin edition, there is no accent mark on estranged and changed to make them have more syllables (estrangéd, changéd). The Pelican does have these accent marks, as does a Signet edition of the complete works of Shakespeare. The quarto and folio do not mark accents at all.  It seems silly to me to make these words have more syllables. This makes each line have 11 syllables, and why should a feminine ending be created if it need not be?  Perhaps having the extra beat can emphasize the witty rhyme made by Rosaline, but I think few ears would miss the rhyme without it. I can understand extending a word for the sake of the meter, but I can't understand it here.  It adds nothing to the play."

Murph adds: "You are quite right."

I LOVE THIS STUFF!

Because the class was so large, there were two casts.  Two complete casts! Nearly every role was double cast, except for the four men and a couple of the country folk.  Murph originally wanted to try to produce two separate versions of the play, but it was logistically just too difficult, so we rehearsed together and produced one play with casts performing on alternate evenings.

Because of the play's structure, we divided our rehearsals into the "men" the "women" and the "country folk".  We were, of course, required to attend rehearsals of our own scenes, but it was such great fun toward the end of rehearsals to watch the rest of the cast.  I remember just screaming with laughter. We were a talented bunch, and blessed with a terrific script!

The casting was so perfect, too. I'll never forget the guy who played Holofernes, one of the single-cast roles.  He had a heavy middle-eastern accent, and he was so stilted and stiff in his acting that he was PERFECT for the role! The men who played the King and his lords were perfectly cast as well.  Well, I suppose any 20-ish-year-old male college student would have been perfectly cast.  The immaturity!  The frustrating joking-around!  The unreliability!  It was definitely a case of life imitating art!

One of the aspects of the experience that I also treasure was that I was supremely busy that quarter.  I worked about 30 hours a week at Ortega Dining Commons, plus I was taking a full slate of credits, including acting as a research assistant for a psychology graduate student.  I'd rehearse in the late afternoon until 11:00 or 11:30 on some nights, then get up to be to work by 6:30, all while continuing my other commitments.  It was a whirlwind, and I loved every minute of it!

Murph is such a down-to-earth man. He hob-nobbed with the best of the English stage, but he dressed in old shirts and jeans and hated to be called "Dr. Swander."  He preferred "Professor," or better yet, just "Murph." Murphy was his mother's maiden name!  He sat at his table every night munching on homemade fried tortillas.  He was never seen without his black cap.

I deeply regret that I don't have any photos of the experience.

On my recent walk, however, I took these.

This is the classroom in Girvetz Hall where we rehearsed. The door was locked the day I went. Murph sat against the windows and our "stage" was on the opposite side of the room.

Girvetz Theatre, where we performed. In my day, Murph's organization was called ACTER. Now, it looks like they are the "American Shakespeare Company." We didn't have a fancy box-office then. And I think it was just called, "Girvetz 1004."  It was a typical auditorium-type classroom.  Now, a proper Theatre!

We got snacks at The Arbor! 


Murph was about 63 years old. I remember him telling us it was his brithday, and saying, "Today I'm 63, and you know what?  63 is the best age to be!"  I love that, and it has stuck with me.

Here is Murph the following summer, at Theatre In England. He is on the right, talking to fellow instructor Patrick Stewart (swoon) on the left and another actor, unknown.

Oh! Theatre in England is a whole other set of memories! 

The next spring I enrolled in Murph's class again, and we produced Measure for Measure.  I played two small roles, and I helped out the director by scheduling rehearsals, etc. It was another great experience, but just not the same.  I guess you can't go home again.  I have one picture of me, after rehearsal, at our apartment in Isla Vista.  Here I am as Barnardine, a drunkard.

I have never lost the passion I have for theater, and particularly Shakespeare, that I gained from Murph Swander.  ♥