Kevin Hosier - Director
Adrian Lillie - Designer
Georgina King - Assistant Designer
Lisa Westerhout - Music
Philip Buck - Silvius/Charles/Lord
David Chittenden - Jaques/Oliver
Jonathan Coote - Duke Senior/Frederick/Corin/Sir Oliver Martext
Dafydd Gwyn Howells - Touchstone
Deborah Mason - Adam/Audrey
George May - Orlando
Hannah Mercer - Phebe/Dennis/Lord
Charlotte Windmill - Celia
Kirsty Yates - Rosalind
This was an honest and very funny production from an excellent company. Oxford Times Oxford Daily Information BBC BBC
The emphasis is on comedy throughout, with most of the cast doubling, or in some cases, tripling their characters… but such was the assuredness of Kevin Hosier's direction that this was never a problem… The entire cast deserves huge praise for their work.
There were too many flashes of comedy brilliance in this production to list them, the audience were kept laughing throughout but particular mention must be made of the herd of goats which appeared in the second half.
The colourful costumes and humorous use of props added to the fine performances.
The numerous children in the audience seemed to be laughing as much as the rest of us. Perhaps the actors played up to the younger ones on the front row once or twice, but this isn't really a criticism - making the play accessible to all can only be a good thing.
“Much virtue in ‘if’…” Kevin Hosier
Act V Scene iv
So says Touchstone at the conclusion of his famous exposition on the “degrees of the lie”,
which, whilst entertaining both the on and off-stage audience also provides useful cover
for Rosalind’s change into her wedding gown in the fifth act of As You Like It.
There is indeed much virtue in “if”. In fact, most of what we do in the theatre is based on
this assumption.
“If”. This tiny word holds great power. Succumb to the obstructive “if” and you may never
get out of the starting blocks. If we choose to produce As You Like It, will an audience come
to see it? Will we be able to effectively tell the story if we only have nine actors? If it rains for two months, will we go bust? And so the obstructive “if” takes over and you never do
anything at all and spend your summer on a beach somewhere (if you can afford it).
Far more productive it is to unleash the positive power of “if”. Every story starts with an
“if”, every scene starts with an “if” and, most importantly, every rehearsal starts with an “if” and this is the cornerstone of the creative process. As a director, I try to use the word
“if”…possibly in conjunction with “what” (resulting in “what if”, or occasionally “if what”
should I not be thinking straight) more than any other. As in “what if we pretend its winter
in Arden and dress the actors in fur, despite he fact that it’s midsummer” That sort of thing.
At which point the actor could say “what if I quit?” Which, of course, they never would,
because they’re all so desperate for work.
“If”. You can’t avoid it in the theatre. Far greater minds than mine are equally fascinated by
the word. I read somewhere that a certain scholar produced a magnificently absurd
number of variants of meaning for Hymen’s line “If truth holds true contents” (Act 5
Scene 4 line 129). This scholar, presumably for want of anything better to do, argued that
the ambiguities of each of the five words (including “if”) of the clause produces a total of
seventy two variants of meaning – each representing a different “if truth holds true
contents”. Sadly we had to cut that line. Terribly upsetting for him after all that work. If
we’d have had more actors we could have left it in. Oh yes. Much virtue in “if”.
But there’s much virtue in “if” for the audience too. If it’s twenty five degrees in the shade, will you believe that it’s four degrees Arden? If an actor appears three times in quick
succession as three different characters, will you believe that they are three different
people? If we chop the text around, put lines in the wrong character’s mouth and
eliminate other characters altogether so we can make the play work for us – will you forgive
us? Well? Will you?
And if it rains – will you get your money back? No way! This is England. What did you
expect? Bring an umbrella next time.
Oxford July 2003
