The Merchant of Venice (22 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

BOOK: The Merchant of Venice
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People might think we were oversensitive to the use of “Jew,” but if you look at the rest of Shakespeare’s canon, leaving
The Merchant of Venice
out, there are only six other uses of the word “Jew,” and every one is pejorative. Launce’s wonderful comic speech in
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
, telling the audience about his dog, says “A Jew would have wept!”—but not the dog. Even a Jew would have wept, therefore this dog is even worse than a Jew—that is the joke. This is the stuff of normal comedy within Shakespeare—you can’t hide from the fact that the rest of his work regards the word “Jew” and therefore being Jewish in a negative light. Having said that, it indicates what a fantastic achievement
The Merchant of Venice
is, because Shakespeare makes Shylock, in so many senses, so sympathetic. “Hath not a Jew eyes?” It’s almost like Shakespeare, because of his own humanity, is digging as deep as he could possibly dig to show us a Jewish person in a sympathetic light, but even within that context he couldn’t quite rid himself of his own culture and the limitations of his own society, his personal history, all the rest of it. Therefore I would say the proper responsibility of an artist in relation to that is to make a personal decision that says “I really don’t believe that Shakespeare would want this.” You might think that is a terribly arrogant thing to say, but any choice you make about any Shakespeare production is an assumption about what you believe he would have wanted. Nothing is neutral, you make crucial interpretive decisions all the way along, so it’s essentially only a decision of that kind to say, “I just don’t think Shakespeare would want this.”

I found it an utterly delightful experience doing the play and I was proud of it and proud of the work that everybody did. I was blessed with an exceptional cast, in particular to have David Calder playing Shylock, because what David brings to the table is not just his skill as an actor but his intelligence, something Penny Downie [who played Portia] shares as well. They helped me enormously in the developing conception of the show. It was the collective endeavor, I think, of that group of actors, that turned it into something that I think we all thoroughly believed in, and believed was very special.

5.
“[I]t became even clearer why Shylock, a devout, sensitive, and serious man, would have such difficulty with drunken lager-louts and Christians”—David Thacker production, 1993.

TRESNJAK:
It had enormous implications, especially in New York, where our production originated and where staging the play is still far more controversial than staging it in England. From the earliest planning phases to the opening night we worked extensively with James Shapiro, the author of
Shakespeare and the Jews.
His insights were invaluable—not just about the text but about the entire production history of the play. In many discussions, the word that we kept coming back to was
exclusion.
How are the characters in
The Merchant of Venice
marginalized or excluded—because of their religion, gender, age, race, sexuality, or economic status? In a workshop that took place six months before the actual production, I got to play around with the ways in which the text could support various forms of exclusion, and I found that this approach nourished both the tragic and the comic aspects of the play. (Granted, much of the humor was rather cruel.) Most of all, it helped me see Shylock as a part of the universe that Shakespeare creates in
The Merchant of Venice.
And, directing the play in 2007, that seemed to me like a worthwhile goal, to reincorporate Shylock into the general fabric of the play.

How did you and your designer represent the contrasting settings of Venice and Belmont?

THACKER:
I had the inspiration to do
Merchant
on Black Wednesday, because, like the events of that day, things happen in the play so rapidly. That’s when the idea of setting it in a modern London came. We modeled the world of Venice on the Lloyd’s building, so it was the world of the stock exchange, big business, suits, money, computers, mobile phones, all that sort of stuff. The challenge with all of Shakespeare is to invent a world that you believe is the world of the play. With Belmont, which is always tricky, what we most wanted the audience to focus on was the caskets. So if there was a criticism of the production in retrospect, I’d say I think Venice was, in design terms, very powerful and persuasive, and Belmont might not have resonated so powerfully.

TRESNJAK:
According to the critic Marjorie Garber,
The Merchant of Venice
presents us with “the opposites that are increasingly similar” during the course of the play. One of those seeming opposites is Venice versus Belmont. Both worlds are ultimately ruled by financial considerations. So for me, the most important practical concern was to move swiftly from one setting to the other, because I did not want the textual similarities and the thematic connections to get obliterated by long and elaborate scenic changes.

The constant in John Lee Beatty’s set design for the play were three sleek desks with three Apple PowerBooks on top of them. Above each desk was a flatscreen monitor. In Venice, we projected stock market quotes on the monitors. I was inspired by the Internet cafés of New York City and by the trading floor down on Wall Street. The characters would tune out of conversations to check their e-mail or to answer their cell phones. (Today, technology is another way that we exclude and marginalize each other on a moment-to-moment basis.) The bulk of our fourteen-member cast was featured in these scenes. The characters smashed into each other throughout. I wanted to create a rude and congested urban setting. In Belmont, the three PowerBooks represented the three caskets and we projected Shakespeare’s riddles on the monitors above them. Working on an off-Broadway budget, I had to turn our own financial considerations
into a dramatic statement. So Portia’s entire household staff consisted of Nerissa and Balthasar, who we thought of as Portia’s IT guy. I imagined Belmont as a hi-tech haven that Portia’s father had left her, isolated, under-populated, and eerie.

6.
F. Murray Abraham as Shylock and Tom Nelis as Antonio in Darko Tresnjak’s 2007 production, set in a modern financial center, with flatscreen monitors and Apple PowerBooks.

Bassanio sometimes seems like a gold-digger rather than a romantic lead. Are there
any
social relations in this play that aren’t dependent on money?

THACKER:
I think he is a gold-digger, but I also think he falls in love! I don’t think that if he wasn’t massively attracted to Portia to begin with he’d ask Antonio to lend him the money. I think he can’t believe his luck really. There’s nothing that I remember from directing the play that implies he doesn’t love her. I think Bassanio is a really tough part because he has some very difficult speeches to handle, like the speech when he chooses the lead casket. Technically that’s a very difficult speech to get the hang of. But I felt that he became more and more attractive and charismatic as the play develops. I think we grow to like Bassanio very much by the end, and I think because Portia
loves him we forgive him a lot. I don’t think he’s one of Shakespeare’s greatest creations: if you asked me to list all the male hero leads in order of preference, he’d be way down the list somewhere. He can’t compare with Romeo, Hamlet, and God knows how many other young men that Shakespeare created, but I think he works in this play.

TRESNJAK:
Our production ended with the three couples swaying to the Rosemary Clooney recording of “How Am I to Know?” The lyrics of the Dorothy Parker/Jack King song struck me as rather appropriate:

Oh
How am I to know
If it’s really love
That found its way here?
Oh
How am I to know
Will it linger on
And leave me then?
I’ll dare not guess
At this strange happiness
But oh
How am I to know
Can it be that love
Has come to stay here?

So I think that not being able to answer your question is, for me, the whole point of the play. The characters themselves are not in the position to answer it. Along the way, they all make compromising choices, choices that haunt even the most innocent relationships. I am thinking especially of Lorenzo and Jessica. They always struck me as the youngest, the most innocent characters in the play. We certainly cast the roles in our production that way. The decision to steal Shylock’s possessions haunts them, and I think that the unease that it creates between them is right under the surface of the famous “In such a night as this” exchange at the top of the last scene.

As for Bassanio, he reminds me of Chance Wayne, the male lead in Tennessee Williams’
Sweet Bird of Youth
—a tarnished angel, still appealing yet also somewhat pathetic. Frayed. I think that the last train is about to leave the station and he needs to catch it however he can. The moment in the first scene when Bassanio is about to ask Antonio for money—when he talks about his school days and uses the analogy of the lost arrow—it always made me squirm in the best possible way. It’s wonderfully icky—an innocent, youthful appeal by someone who’s neither innocent nor all that youthful.

The play is called
The Merchant of Venice
, and yet Antonio has a smaller part than Portia, Shylock, Bassanio, and even by some counts Gratiano and Lorenzo! Why is that, and does it present peculiar problems for casting (and for the actor playing the merchant)?

THACKER:
We had a much older actor playing Antonio and it was very clear that this was in that tradition of gay men who love young men, but would never dream of being sexual with them, or indeed of imposing upon the young man anything that would be discomforting. There’s a pattern that as a heterosexual man I’ve been quite familiar with in my life, of older gay men having wonderfully respectful relationships with young heterosexual men, whom they perhaps do desire but would never risk allowing anything sexual to spoil that relationship. That’s how I imagined Antonio’s relationship with the younger men. I think he’s very sad that he doesn’t have his own partner; probably he can’t confess his own homosexuality anyway in the society in which he lives. But he also has his own serious failings, like the nature of his aggression toward Shylock at the beginning and his overt anti-Semitism, which I think was clear enough just by playing it straight down the line. There didn’t strike me as being any problem about the casting of him or carrying through the logic of the relationships.

TRESNJAK:
I don’t think that the size of the role is problematic since any actor playing Antonio has to deal with the mystery of his sadness, the nature of his relationship with Bassanio, and the source of his hatred for Shylock. At this stage in my career, I am increasingly
intrigued by Shakespeare’s shorthand, by those moments where something seems to be withheld from the audience. Antonio’s reticence—what it implies about his position in the Venetian society, his relationship with Bassanio, and his hatred for Shylock—is rather intriguing.

In casting the roles of Antonio and Bassanio, I decided that I had to be completely honest about the fact that we were going to explore the sexual ambiguity of their relationship. Acknowledging that dimension of
The Merchant of Venice
is an essential part of how I see the play, just as much a part of it as Shylock’s Jewishness.

The “choice of casket” motif is like something out of a fairy tale, but Portia is a flesh-and-blood woman, no fairy-tale princess: is that tough to reconcile stylistically?

THACKER:
In the context of a modern dress production set in the city of London, Portia has got to be an intelligent modern woman. She is clearly the most intelligent person in the play anyway: she thinks on her feet, she’s quick-witted, she’s intelligent, but most important, she is the moral center of the play. It is through Portia that we understand how to consider everybody else’s behavior and actions. She’s yet another of those wonderful Shakespearean women who are warm, kind, passionate, sexy, intelligent, and have such integrity that it is through them that we understand how human beings should behave. I’m very positive about Portia. I think she’s meant to be a young woman, imprisoned by an obsessive father who has tried to trap her in a way that, certainly in lots of cultures, is very easy for us to understand now. So, no, I didn’t find it difficult to reconcile, I found it a pretty straightforward choice.

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