Richard III, Cross-gender Casting and Women's Ordination

Interesting radio on my way to Okotoks a few weeks ago. Jian Ghomeshi did an interview on cross-gender casting with Seanna McKenna, who is playing the evil King Richard in Richard III at Stratford this year, and Martha Henry, who plays Queen Margaret.

One comment that caught my ear is how when men play women it is seen as a bit of a laugh (nudge, nudge, wink, wink), but when women play men it is a much more serious (and often disturbing) matter. I suspect that's probably because when women play men it stirs up some power issues. Men have more to lose.

And all that made me think of the ordination of women controversy in the church. I realize I'm heading into potentially stormy territory here but consider this. Liturgy is very much like theatre. An Anglican presider most often follows a script—actually all presiders do, it's just that some are more improvisational than others. The presider is playing a role just as are Seanna and Martha in Richard III. As the role is played, the story of God's involvement with us is told, God gets worshipped, grace gets mediated and truth is learned and experienced.

The Bard wrote about the man Richard III, most often played by a man because he was one. Why cast a woman in the role? To stir the pot of meaning and truth in the play to see if there is more to be gleaned. Necessary? Not really. Helpful? Probably. Having a woman play Richard is legitimate artistic experimentation it seems to me, like seeing something familiar in 3D or in modern dress, or doing liturgy in a different way. It makes the story light up differently.

The Bible is about Jesus, who happens to be a man. To what extent does the ordained minister represent Jesus? Should a woman be cast in that role? Does it stir the pot of meaning and truth in the divine drama so that more meaning and truth can be gleaned, or does it just muddy the waters? Is that just something like cross-gender casting for Shakespeare, or something more?

God Blessed Us, Every One: John D Huston's Performance of "A Christmas Carol"

John D Huston was at StB last night to deliver his A Christmas Carol one man show; a delightfully rich and detailed performance by a first class actor—a man well steeped in his trade. A member of the Meti nation of Saskatchewan, John has had a lively career “culturally misappropriating the works and identities of dead white guys” in Canada and the UK. He has played Tommy Douglas in Saskatchewan, Shakespeare in the UK and Dickens across Canada. He has performed A Christmas Carol since 1992. Last night's performance was his 444th. 

John continues a tradition begun by Dickens himself who began public performances of his classic tale in 1853 as charitable fundraisers, but they soon became a lucrative second career. Of the twenty works he prepared for performance, A Christmas Carol was his most popular: he performed it throughout the year in a series of tours lasting until his death in 1870. The text was cut drastically over time from a three hour marathon to a sixty minute one-act designed to fill half of a double bill. Last night’s performance is a transition between these two versions. Dickens’ address to the audiences at his first readings says it best: “I would ask that you imagine you are with a small group of friends assembled to hear a tale told.” And we heard it very well told, indeed. 

We were also blessed by a roast beef dinner and choral music by Ralph Browne's Selah Singers. A wonderful evening. God, indeed, blessed us, every one. 

Harvey Opens Tonight: on Lines, Invisible Friends, Christianity and Elwood P Dowd's Message

Lines
Harvey opens this evening. I've spent the last few weeks stuffing my lines into my head in the midst of my parish priest life. I've recited them to myself in bed as I've been drifting off to sleep. I said them to myself in the air all the way from Moncton to Calgary. I've declaimed them to the long-suffering Jude. I've spoken them out loud in the car as I've driven to a diocesan executive committee meeting in Calgary and back. Yet there are still a few sticky points I must keep an eye on.

There's a sort of heady risk factor involved. Therein lies part of the rush of performing, I suppose. When I walk on to the stage this evening I won't have all the dialogue neatly laid out in my consciousness. I have to begin, in faith, with the first words, trusting that each line that I deliver thereafter will cue the next one in my memory. I also have to trust that when I finish each of one of my lines or speeches it will properly trigger the next from one of my fellow performers.

Sometimes I know what I'm to say next even as one of the other characters begins his or her line. Sometimes I can't remember what's next until the trigger that's lodged in my memory goes off. This is a little nerve wracking, especially when that trigger is the last word in the line. I have to trust that it will come, that I will hear it when it does and that I will remember what I'm to say next. Phew!

It's like we're (the actors) running along the top of a high fence. If one of us stumbles, all of us can fall off. In public. If someone misses a cue, or skips some lines, one has to think quickly; is there a way of reminding him or her? Does the skipped portion include something really important for the narrative? It can be frightening and exciting.

Invisible Friends
Harvey is about Elwood P Dowd and his invisible rabbit friend, Harvey. Elwood's sister, Veta, tries to have him committed because of this friendship. Elwood’s naive and eccentric behaviour is an embarrassment for her and threatens her social standing.

Although Harvey is not a “Christian” play, its message is an interesting one for Christians to think about. They can be considered as simple and eccentric as Elwood for their belief in and commitment to Jesus, who also seems to be invisible and at odds with the standards of the world.

We can all learn much from Elwood P Dowd about how to live life to the full. For example, life is an absolute joy for Elwood. He savours and enjoys it all. Elwood is positive and friendly, and always interested in the people he meets. Elwood refuses to take offense, even when his sister tries to put him away. Elwood never uses Harvey's supernatural powers to hurt anyone or for personal gain.

Some Dowdisms to enjoy:
On availability:

I happen to have a little free time right now and you're welcome to all of it. 

On evangelism:

I want you…to become friends with a very dear friend of mine. 

On reality:

Doctor, I wrestled with reality for forty years, and I am happy to state that I finally won out over it. 

On drinking and driving:

I had just helped Ed Hickey into a taxi. Ed had been mixing his rye with his gin, and I felt he needed conveying.

On conflict (something we Anglicans need to take to heart?):

An element of conflict in any discussion is a good thing. It means that everybody is taking part and nobody is left out. I like that. 

On being content with our lot:

So far I've never been able to think of any place I'd rather be. I always have a wonderful time just where I am, whomever I'm with. 

A mother's advice:

My mother used to say to me, "In this world, Elwood"—she always called me Elwood—she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant." For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.