Macbeth

Yesterday was my first time attending a performance of Shakespeare's plays. I have read a number of his texts before (Othello, and The Tempest, just to name a few) but actors bring a new dimension to the performance. As my acting-lessons coach once said, “The text is dead. Actors have creative freedom to choose how they want to emote the words.”

Of course, the behind-the-scenes crew, and not just the cast, are outstanding in their individual and collective genius – time does not suffice to list all their luminary contributions. Included in the crew are Rayann Condy (as Intimacy Director), and Matt Hutchinson (in the department of Puppets, Puppetry Design & Direction). And Lee Yew Jin (sound design), and Peps Goh (fight-choreography).

I would like to highlight the physical space as another actor in its (her?) own right. The venue is Fort Canning Park. As the sun lowered itself behind skyscrapers – which, in the blue light of dusk, glowed softly with a thousand electric lights – a couple of large birds (wildlife, not props) soared above the greenery. “Eagles,” my companion-for-the-evening said. What a strange sound they are making, I thought. I've never heard them vocalise before.

The show started after the emcee (CEO?) had thanked corporate sponsors profusely, and had invited the audience to donate generously.

Dusk gave way to night. Clouds obscured the myriad stars in the heavens above. And, upon the poor humans' perspiration-coated bodies, the outdoor air pressed in, like a heavy gloved hand, moist with extreme tropical humidity. The threat of mosquitoes was on humans' minds: tickling one's nostrils was the smell of mosquito-repelling fluid.

Suddenly, mid-way through the first half of the 90-minute performance, raindrops started falling into the electricity-illuminated night. Cue umbrellas from audience members: umbrellas, which, of course, blocked the view of people behind them, but where I was seated, no one complained – perhaps a testament to the gripping drama unfolding on stage.

The raindrops ceased. Lady Macbeth had gone on a monologue throughout the brief shower.

I should highlight the clever use of lighting: an illuminated platform underneath the sand-covered stage, lit sometimes blue in colour, and sometimes orange. If one covers the lights with layers of sand, the set looks like a desert scene, straight out of the sci-fi Dune movies. But wipe the sand away (mobilising a crew-member with a manual tool), and the orange glow, from the glowing platform beneath, looks like a horrible image of Hellfire as the witches cackle and preen before the anxious Macbeth: “Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scorn / The power of man, for none of woman born / Shall harm Macbeth.” (Act 4, Scene 1).

I loved the group-dances and the salutes. And derived pleasure from the “prayers” in an unfamiliar language – I wonder if the language was created just for this production, like how a new language has been created for the blue aliens in James Cameron's film, “Avatar”.

Overall, it was a night that I savoured.

#acting