Continued… Sunday at Stratford.
An early rise for breakfast again. Then Jacobie went to visit the birthplace and home of Shakespeare, while I attended an RSC story-telling event about King Lear for 5-9 year olds, at the café of the Courtyard Theatre. Very interesting. I asked if I could watch, and was actually allowed to be involved, as it was less obtrusive for the kids and also because the workshop was interactive with the parents too. Amongst songs and games and musical storm-making, we played wink-murder, and at one stage, I even got to be dressed up in a cape and play the nasty daughter/sister Regan. The teacher was a little intimidated and concerned when I informed her I was an actress and teacher wanting to observe, but I reassured her I was Australian and no threat ;-). It was very insightful to watch her approach, not only to the content but also towards the children and parents in general. I came to some realizations about my own methods in working with kids and gained knowledge about what works and what doesn’t by being able to look in on the process and be a participant. It was a last minute decision to take a look at this, so I was particularly pleased when the RSC family events organiser sat down with me after the workshop and talked me through the various educative programs the RSC offers. Of course I inquired as to how one gets involved in this, and it became apparent it is rather an in-house affair, with company actors doing much of the teaching work, and only rarely engaging curriculum or specialist teachers for some in-school sessions. Very insightful nonetheless.
Jac and I met up at Will’s house after, then caught the city-sightseeing bus out to Mary Arden’s house, which I’d longed to see more of after my last brief visit. The tour bus guide was full of more juicy tid-bits, this time more historical than hysterical…
Not only were there not as many windows in the 15-1600s (see last Stratford blog re-daylight robbery), but they were smaller too. This was to restrict the shining path of moonlight at night because of a superstition that proposed: if the moon shone upon your head as you slept, you would wake moon-struck. Mad. Become a luna-tic.
I also learned that any town with the name Chester in it, has Roman origins; was once occupied by the Romans. And at the time these Roman soldiers trooping throughout the land, would be paid in the valuable commodity of salt. Salarium, in Latin. Thus we gained the word salary. And the saying, you are ‘worth your weight in salt’.
The RSC theatre, the one undergoing a massive 100 million pound revamp (where else is that much money spent on theatre?), was a rebuild itself after a fire in 1924 destroyed the original. It was redesigned by then-famous architect, Elizabeth Scott, into the rather dull and ugly, flat-box art deco building. Apparently George Bernard Shaw was horrified by it, and Edward Elgar, who had been commissioned to compose an overture for the opening, upon seeing it, refused to have anything to do with it. Hopefully, the new construction will be more in suiting with the rest of the town and with the adjoined Swan Theatre, which is Victorian high gothic architecture.
We passed by Hall’s Croft, but didn’t have to time to explore within. This was the home of Dr John Hall and his wife, Susanna – Shakespeare’s eldest daughter. Dr Hall was a puritan, so who knows how well he got along with Shakespeare, but he sounds like a pretty decent fellow. He made lots of money treating his very wealthy patients, and from that, he extended his house to open a dispensary to treat his poor patients, where he used herbs and flowers from his impressive garden in his cures. This house is licensed to hold marriage ceremonies these days and apparently the first person to apply for this was aptly named, Mr Shakespeare.
We also passed by Nash’s house. Dr Hall and Susanna had a daughter, Elizabeth (Shakespeare’s only granddaughter) who married Thomas Nash, a wealthy Stratford property-owner. And their house is also quite stately. It’s lovely garden also sits next to the site of the house where Shakespeare spent his last years of his life, and died under it’s roof (it was pulled down in 1759 unfortunately). The Guild Chapel that would have been Shakespeare’s view from his home, remains unchanged. The garden of Nash’s house and New Place, a gorgeous knot-garden, features a mulberry tree, though not the original that Shakespeare planted, but said to be grown from a cutting. Under this tree, apparently Dame Peggy Ashcroft learnt lines, and her ashes are scattered throughout the garden.
Then on to Mary Arden’s house…
While there was to be no falconry display on at the Arden house that Sunday, there was a special traditional sheep shearing event (uncle Peter you would have enjoyed this!), which inspired a traditional feast day amongst the period costumed staff. I mentioned in a previous blog that the workers at Mary Arden’s were operating the farm in Elizabethan practices. And on this particular Sunday, they had prepared a magnificent feast because they had guests at the house- the sheep-shearers. Something they had prepared looked scarily like blood-pudding (I’m still traumatized from serving it when I worked at the Brisbane Club), and Jacobie was impressed by a roast of some species. There was a cleverly sculpted marzipan sheep, and the dessert pies and other assorted sweet goodies looked sensational. Sugar was a luxury item in Shakespear’es time, so events like this were an occasion to display prosperity by feeding guests tarts etc loaded with sugar. YUM. We hovered in the hope that we could taste some, but the servants were starving, so we went and shared a “cream tea” at the café. This was our second attempt at the famous English ‘cream tea’ – not called Devonshire tea, because we were in Stratford Upon Avon, NOT Devonshire. The first attempt was on Saturday at Mistress Quickly’s café. Both times we were thoroughly disappointed by the ‘clotted cream’ we had so looked forward to, arriving in a little pre-bought tub mass-produced. So un-Elizabethan! We roamed around the farm and couple of houses, said hi to the piggy in the sty, sniffed divine colourful flowers, and snuck into roped off sections of the houses to get stealthy photos (see above) and ate the half-scone packed clotted ‘cream tea’. Then had to depart Mary’s place, homeward-bound.
A wander through the local markets and some purchases from the fudge-tastic shop, and our tranquil getaway was complete. Some wine, bread, cheese, pesto, and cherry tomatoes accompanied us on our trip back to bustling London. If there is a heaven…Stratford is it.