Bido Lito! Issue 54 / April 2015 | Page 16

Soundtracking ShakespearE 16 Bido Lito! April 2015 For their current production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Everyman have opted for a bold approach by bringing in a forwardthinking team that wants to give the Bard's mysterious adventure a bit of a reboot. Arranger and composer JAMES FORTUNE has been tasked with adding a contemporary musical edge to the production, which begs the question, how do you soundtrack Shakespeare? Josh Potts finds out. “Oh wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss! Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!” These lines are spoken by a man who’s been partially turned into a donkey and back again, uttered at the mid-point of a disastrous play within a play. His name is Bottom, and he’ll be familiar to many of you reading this. He’s clueless, childlike, and committed to giving the performance of his life. Through him, Shakespeare reminds us that it’s somewhat gratifying to make an ass of ourselves. But Elizabethan drama is a wall of understanding, pecked at by a trillion English classes, the very stones of our culture that never yield lightly to an ‘A-ha!’ moment. To appreciate the bliss of Shakespeare, we must fight for it, because The Big Man is never easy. He makes an ass out of a lot of us. “I remember absolutely hating it growing up,” says James Fortune. “Just finding it unnecessarily turgid and boring. Whenever you see it at its worst, you can see people acting, not thinking the language is real. But when you strip away the façade and speak the text...” He holds up his hands, his flat cap a centre point for sheaves ” of grey light at our window. Fortune has an air of contentment and self-knowledge. At least in this context, he knows what he’s talking about. The Everyman Theatre is following a barmy production of Macbeth with A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and he’s been hired as its musical director. He’s seen a blood-drenched Coriolanus at the RSC, a hilarious Twelfth Night, even jumped in to help out with Midsummer, when his mate couldn’t make a few gigs. He’s scored TV shows and sung in an a capella group. In short, he’s the kind of curious soul who can edge out conformity and supply an audience with fresh eyes to make sure they get their money’s worth. Saying that, he’s candid about acknowledging Midsummer’s reputation for whimsy and irreverence. The play, along with Romeo and Juliet, is often seen as a gateway drug to the Bard’s more complicated oeuvre, having been revived almost consistently since its first staging. Its imaginative scope – faeries, sprites, and thwarted lovers running amok in a dream-like forest on the borders of Athens – has bred endless adaptations and re-workings, ranging from psychedelic opera to a Levi’s ad. Schoolchildren respond to its flights of fancy or visual gags, but there is a darker side that can be kind of passed off as an innocent fantasy; one that Fortune and his collaborators are keen to emphasise. “The play starts with a death threat: ‘If you don’t marry the guy I want you to marry, you’re gonna die’. You have to take that seriously. Nick Bagnall [director] has done a fantastic job of capturing that da