Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 3, 1991 TAG: 9102280035
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DWAYNE YANCEY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: DAYTON LENGTH: Long
It's when Cohen insists that Shakespeare was the Spike Lee of his day that one begins to realize that this guy is either cool or crazy - possibly both.
And when the cast of his production of "Measure for Measure" bounces onto the stage wearing running shoes and singing the Rolling Stones' classic "You Can't Always Get What You Want," one finally gets the picture.
This isn't the Shakespeare we were force-fed in Mrs. Wormwood's 11th grade English class.
But it's how Shakespeare meant Shakespeare to be, Cohen insists, and that's the whole point behind his troupe called the Shenandoah Shakespeare Express, which aims to put this small town just south of Harrisonburg on the state's cultural map - although the group's members cringe at the word "culture."
"We try to bring Shakespeare to regular people, so it's not a culture thing, it's not a class thing," says managing director Jim Warren.
He might as well have added: So it's not a boring thing.
Not to get academic, but Cohen blames Shakespeare's PR problem on Oliver Cromwell. In Shakespeare's day, the James Madison University professor says, the theater attracted rowdy, working-class crowds who booed and heckled when they felt like it. They didn't get all the high-falutin' language, either, Cohen says, but went to Shakespeare plays to find out what slang was "in." That's where the Spike Lee comparison comes in.
But the Lord Protector decided that was too much fun to be allowed, and ordered the theaters shut down. When they reopened 18 years later, the tone had changed. Only the rich went to the theater.
"Your average Joe had no theater to go to and didn't for another century, with the advent of the music hall in Victoria's day," Cohen says. "As a result, upper-class audiences began to dictate what Shakespeare was. It became more and more like worshipping at a cultural icon."
The 19th century made things worse. Spotlights allowed actors to ignore the audience and drone on interminably. Shakespeare became known not for his wit, but the so-called great speeches.
"The final nail in the coffin was the advent of public education in that century," Cohen says. "When they introduced Shakespeare into the public schools, that was the Shakespeare they introduced. People came to think of Shakespeare as something in tights, with big sets, slow, and in a language they didn't understand."
In 1988, Cohen set out to change that.
Drawing mostly on JMU theater students, he started a non-profit group to take Shakespeare on the road, performing at high schools, retirement homes, community theaters, any place that could come up with a few bucks.
His basic premise is to create a trendy, up-close, fast-paced Shakespeare that will shock audiences braced for the worst.
First off, the Shenandoah Shakespeare Express isn't called the Express for nothing. It cuts intermission and promises to be done in under two hours. One critic called the group "a lean, mean Shakespeare machine."
Second, the group doesn't perform on a regular stage; any old high school cafeteria will do. After all, in Shakespeare's day, the furtherest seats were only a couple rows from the stage. "Putting Shakespeare on a proscenium stage is like playing baseball in a bowling alley," Cohen says.
The group doesn't use sets, either, and precious few costumes. (Shakespeare didn't use many himself, Cohen says.) White shirts, Bugle Boy jeans and Chuck Taylor high-tops are about it.
"High school kids see a bunch of pretty cool kids coming out in Chucks and think, `Hmmm,' " Cohen says. "We also do non-traditional casting. We had a black Caesar last year. You go into an inner-city high school, where kids are thinking they have to listen to this white icon, and here's a black Caesar, it totally turns it around."
To run the group, Cohen talked Warren, a JMU graduate, out of his job at a Hollywood post-production house. Cohen also has assembled a star-studded advisory board of old friends, including Judi Dench, one of London's best-known Shakespearean actresses, and Phoef Sutton, a producer for the TV show "Cheers."
Over the past three years, the Express has performed about 50 shows a year. It's ranged as far north as New Hampshire; it's booked for a spring tour that goes as far south as Alabama.
"No high school we've been to hasn't wanted us back," Cohen says. "We did `Julius Caesar' and `Midsummer Night's Dream' at Woodstock and the kids raised the money so we could come back and do `Midsummer Night's Dream' again."
Now the group is trying to plant some roots when it's not on the road. It's leased the gym in an old schoolhouse in Dayton, a picturesque town of 921 best known for the clip-clop of Old Order Mennonite buggies riding through the streets.
Starting in June, the group plans weekend shows of "Measure for Measure," "Twelfth Night" and "Midsummer Night's Dream." Cohen hopes the group will be a tourist draw for weekend visitors to the valley.
by CNB