Watching Plays, Reading Plays

I recently attended a performance of William Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. It got me thinking about the age-old debate over plays, and whether they are to be read or watched. It's a discussion that seems to follow the Bard of Avon more than any other writer.

My first direct exposure to Shakespeare's literature was in a high school English class, when I read Romeo and Juliet. I already knew who Shakespeare was, of course, but this was the first time I experienced one of his masterpieces first-hand. At fourteen, I still struggled with understanding the play, but I enjoyed it, found the footnotes fascinating, and looked forward to studying Shakespeare's other works in future English classes. In the summer I turned 17, I bought a collection of Shakespeare's plays, and read both Much Ado About Nothing and Hamlet on my own; the latter would soon show up on the syllabus in my last year of high school. I would soon after become an English major at Carleton University, and take a class on Shakespeare (with works by Marlowe, Jonson, and Webster thrown in for good measure).

Since graduating, I've grown less interested in reading Shakespeare's plays and more interested in watching them.

I've seen both a straightforward production of Romeo and Juliet and an experimental Hamlet at the National Arts Centre. I've seen A Company of Fools' productions of The Comedy of Errors and The Merry Wives of Windsor. I watched a live production of A Midsummer Night's Dream broadcast in a movie theatre. And then there are the numerous cinematic versions, of which Welles' Chimes at Midnight and Whedon's* Much Ado About Nothing are my personal favourites.

There's just something special about a good production of Shakespeare. When I was a teenager, I thought that footnotes would be essential, at least for me, to understand him. When I'm watching his plays as an adult, however, the absence of footnotes is never a problem. Even for someone like me, who has long struggled with ADHD, Shakespeare, when performed by good actors, is understandable and relatable.

Having said all of this, though, I still do read the occasional play. I prefer novels, but I'll insert a play into my reading schedule if it looks interesting. I've read Karel Čapek's R.U.R., Tom Taylor's Our American Cousin, and Anne Washburn's Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play, simply because I wanted to experience them myself, and didn't want to wait for a production.

I don't believe there is a wrong way to experience art, but everyone has a preferred way. I would rather play a video game, though I am willing to watch a Let's Play; I would rather read a novel, though I am willing to listen to an audiobook.

I have a copy of Oxford's Shakespeare Omnibus in my book shelf right now. Maybe I'll read one of his plays again soon.

*Yes, I acknowledge that Joss Whedon is a bully and a creep. And yet I still love his take on Much Ado About Nothing, and am particularly fond of Nathan Fillion's performance as Dogberry.