Shakespeare's Sister
I
hated Macbeth just as much as every other piece of literary text that was dished
out by my teachers at secondary school. The fact that it had been chosen for the
curriculum and that I would have to answer questions about it made me despise
the masterpiece. Many other fine literary works were turned into chores and
wasted on me. It wasn't until I finished my GCSE exams and enrolled at college
that I began to placate my interest in literature. This is when I began to
realise how I had wasted my time at school. It took me no less than two years to
re-read all of the books I had disregarded in the past but I never once cursed
myself for not making the most of the opportunities I had. Such a thing would
have only saddened my dilemma, making a mockery of the re-reading tasks that I
set myself. This particular reason is one of many as to why I have so much
admiration for students that study, enjoy and even memorise literary texts and
prose. On April 2nd 2008 I was asked to judge an English Literature Recital and
drama pageant at a high school in Krakow. This was my second year as a judge on
the panel…
The
mini bus from Bochnia to Krakow gets me to the centre in a record time of thirty
five minutes. I manage to dodge the dancing drunk who swings his way from seat
to seat, stinking the vehicle with the foul smell of dungeon gin and alight at
the stop nearest my arranged meeting point. I am then driven to the High School
by a young lady I recall from last years contest, she tells me that she is
teaching her young baby how to swim at the local leisure centre. Even though it
is only swimming, it is a skill which will develop with time, making it one less
thing for the baby to learn when it is older. Although there is of course a
limit to how many things small children can learn at one time, early learning is
something that is not taken advantage of enough and I discuss this with my new
friend as we drive through the Krakow suburbs. The high school is quite a
distance out of town and we only just make it in time for the competition,
nervous students loiter around the main entrance of the concourse looking over
their notes and quizzing their friends. Kasia, a good friend of mine and one of
the event organizers, takes my coat and offers me something to drink before the
event takes place. I take my seat in the spacious auditorium at the judges panel
just in front of the stage. I feast on the sweet pastries and orange juice that
scatter the surface of the table and glance around at the costumed contestants.
Aside from my swimming baby companion there is one other judge I recognise from
last year, a bubbly member of staff with exquisite English proficiency and a
friendly allure. A senior member of staff from another Krakow high school sits
to my left and we are all provided with a schedule for today's performances. I
look over the list of recitals in the first half and am intrigued to find works
by E. E. Cummings, Lord Byron, T.S. Elliot and ...Allister Crowley?
The
first half comprises of twenty three recitals in all, each to be marked on
interpretation, diction, understanding and stage presence. The participants
themselves mostly attend schools in Krakow but there are a few on the list from
towns as far out as Brzesko. It seems that this is quite a reputable event for
its genre and I feel most pleased to be a part of it. Before the competition
begins, the judges are introduced to the audience and I am prompted to take a
little bow when my name is called. The lights go down and the announcer calls
the first contestant to the stage where she recites the poem 'I love you so
much' by Mr Cummings. Her voice trembles and she looks utterly bewildered by the
prospect of speaking but she manages to remember her lines and sets a relatively
good standard for all that is to come. When the young lady finishes the poem in
English, she then recites it in Polish with the same diction and poise. I have
such admiration for students that can dedicate themselves to such things but I
refrain from going overboard with the marking for recital number one. As the
competition continues, I become utterly transfixed by what the people on stage
are saying, obviously there is some variation in that some contestants choose
easier texts than others, some forget their lines and some are overcome with
shyness. I fill my judges form with notes in short hand that will make sense to
nobody else and I devise my own marking system. About twenty minutes into the
show a young lady climbs onto the stage in a head scaff that she removes when
she reaches the microphone. She recites a flawless fragment of M. Zimmer
Bradley's 'The Mists of Babylon' in an utterly gripping manner that stands out
phenomenally from the rest of the other performances. Her style is composed and
her English pronunciation is perfect, her recital was a most difficult piece to
remember but she bounces through it effortlessly and I find myself writing five
out of five on my paper. Most of the contestants seem to be afraid of the
microphone and stand to the left of the stage which makes it difficult to hear
what the are talking about. There is a wonderful recital of Robert Frost's
'Stopping in the Woods', which goes down a treat but it is not until act twenty
two that I find myself deciding on a personal favourite. The poem is 'The More
Loving One' by W.H. Auden and, although it is not the most difficult poem to
recite, the girl who performs it does so beautifully. Every word she says feels
like she treasures it and wants everyone to feel the same way about the poem
that she obviously does. One of the final performances is from a cocky young
fellow with long hair and spectacles. He trudges across the stage like an angry
giant booming a poem written by British Occultist Aleister Crowley. Whether the
rest of the judges panel, or the director of the high school, who happens to be
a priest, know what the boy is reading is a mystery. It would be easy to dismiss
this young fellow as a joker but the fact that he has memorised and beautifully
articulated a perhaps... lesser known poem is a bonus for me and I rate it. If
his stage presence and arrogance where a little less obvious then perhaps the
rest of the panel would feel the same way but I can feel them recoil with
disgust as he recites the Polish version of his chosen piece.
The
recital portion of the event comes to an end after an hour and half and the
judges retire to a staff room to discuss their verdicts. I walk behind the three
other judges with at least two contestants in mind and a craving for stuffed
green olives. We arrive at the staff room and pour over our notes, discussing
who we each believe to be the top three contestants. My thoughts are generally
agreed upon, except of course for the Crowley recital which receives no merit at
all... and perhaps rightly so. It was not the time or the place.
The
second half starts after a ten minute break and I am handed a second plan for
the rest of the afternoon - Drama. Each piece is expected to last for
approximately ten minutes, I look down the list to find mostly Shakespeare
adaptations, with the exception of an Oscar Wilde piece and something by Jack
Heifner. There are eight performances in all. I watch with curiosity as the
opening actor performers a ballsy version of 'To be or not to be' using a
science lab skeleton and an executioners mask for props. He is followed by a
genuinely sparkling rendition of Act 2 Scene 2 from Macbeth and several more
dazzling adaptations. The students really go to town on their performances,
throwing themselves about the stage in blood and gold, with spades and pom-poms
in beautiful attempts at recapturing historical scripts. It seems however that
the best is saved until last as a gender bending Romeo and Julliet take to the
stage, the contestants witty performances are then followed by the last in this
years event, a minimalist adaptation of 'The Importance of Being Ernest'. The
Polish interpretation is gold and has me laughing out loud along with the rest
of the audience. This has to be first place. Once the competition comes to a
close, the audience are treated to a comedy sketch piece by some second year
students. It looks to be one of those plays found free on onestopenglish.com but
it is well performed and goes down a treat with the audience. The curtains close
one last time and the judges retire to our smutty lair.
There
are no doubts as to who the top two prizes are going to. I perch on the end of a
long sofa, signing my name of several certificates and pronouncing my reasons as
to who I think should win and why. The majority of the judges agree with my
spilling although there are some discrepancies about the Jack Heifner piece,
which seemed to go on for much longer than ten minutes. A reenactment of 'A Much
to do About Nothing' is also heavily debated, I considered the four girls who
performed the piece to have talent and VIGOR but my feelings are not shared with
the rest of my co-conspirators. We make our decisions final and the prizes are
taken to the stage, mountains of books on English literature cover a small
coffee table and I am jealous. Before the results are announced, a short montage
sequence depicting the life work of John Paul II is screened. Today is the third
anniversary of his death and he is very sorely missed among the Polish people.
The film lasts for three minutes and then the judges are invited on stage where
we are thanked for our efforts. The results are announced and the winning
contestants bashfully make their way up to collect their prizes from the priest
director of the school. The audience clap and cheer along with the winners, who
I awkwardly find myself amongst, and pictures are taken to document the
occasion. There is a real sense of unity and companionship on the stage as the
winners are joined by the rest of the participants for a final photograph. The
lights shine brightly in my face and I make a promise to myself that I will have
to perform poetry onstage myself before I go judging any more recitals...
Photos Coming Soon!
Copyright Daniel Emmerson 2008 all rights reserved