In 1956 my family and I lived on Calle Shakespeare (corner with Avenida Lafayette) in Colonia Nueva Anzures in Mexico City. We took cabs and we had to pronounce thusly the name of our street –shack –s-phe-ar- eh. My mother thought this very funny and the fact that the complete name of the street was Guillermo Shakespeare. My mother was a snob.

She and my father took me to a theatre in the round production of Bertolt Brecht’s Galileo Galilei in Buenos Aires when I was 8. My father and mother were snobs.

In 1960 my mother took me to an in Spanish production of Oscar Wilde’s Lady Windermere’s Fan in Mexico city with Dolores del Río as top billing. My mother was a snob.

She called herself (and she include me in this) “gente fina”. It translates to a sort of blend between highbrow, well educated and genteel. She even went further by saying there were few people like us around. My mother was a snob.

But to cite a contrarian opinion on this from this erstwhile highbrow I must point out that at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, while the noble people sat in the balconies, the common masses stood in the middle, eating and talking if the play was not to their satisfaction.

The same would apply to opera until late into the mid 19^th century. It then became rarefied alongside Mahler and Wagner.

I could also assert that Shakespeare can be “done” anywhere, in the nude, underwater, in any period of history as long as it is not mimed. Shakespeare’s words are essential.

One of the best “partial” productions of Shakespeare’s Henry V happened at the English style The Diner on 10^th Avenue 6 years ago. There was a party given by architect Abraham Rogatnick. One of the guests was Christopher Gaze. After a few requests, Gaze stood up and recited (ever so beautifully) Henry V’s St. Crispin’s Day speech. I believe Rogatnick and I had recently seen Gaze as King Lear.

In my total ignorance some 28 years ago I saw a proto-bard-on-the beach production of Richard the III with Gaze. People who were murdered early in the play kept coming back to my total confusion. I did not understand the fine tradition then of frugality in acting. Gaze’s performance was the best Richard III I have ever seen.

An earlier production of The Comedy of Errors, not too many years ago had Gaze dressed in drag as Queen Elizabeth. By then I knew of the confusing gender benders in Shakespeare’s time. My grandmother who wanted to sing opera with her fine coloratura soprano at the end of the 19^th century in Spain was not allowed as her father told her that only whores sung in opera.

But by mid 20 century until now, opera, Shakespeare, new/contemporary music, classical music, ballet and the visual arts (with the exception of the almost thriving Vancouver genre called Lowbrow Art) are all seen by many as elitist and are wrapped around that awful word culture. Why would anybody in his or her right mind want to listen to the very fine Paul Kennedy on Ideas on CBC? Could that be why the CBC if falling fast?

Most would agree that culture is good. Many will say that they have little time for it because they are busy. If you live in North Vancouver you have the problem of the bridges. If you live in the outskirts, there is the slowed down freeway or that tunnel.

Our conventional media does not give us “everyman” explanations on pointers to watch out for in a particular play or dance. Reviews are useless if they don’t inspire.

This finally brings me to The Comedy of Errors directed by Scott Bellis. This play has the following little gem:

Antipholus of Syracuse. What is she?

    Dromio of Syracuse. A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may

    not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.' I have

    but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a

    wondrous fat marriage. 855

    Antipholus of Syracuse. How dost thou mean a fat marriage?

    Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench and all grease;

    and I know not what use to put her to but to make a

    lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I

    warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn a 860

    Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday,

    she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. What complexion is she of?

    Dromio of Syracuse. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing half so

    clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over 865

    shoes in the grime of it.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. That's a fault that water will mend.

    Dromio of Syracuse. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. What's her name?

    Dromio of Syracuse. Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters, that's 870

    an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from

    hip to hip.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Then she bears some breadth?

    Dromio of Syracuse. No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip:

    she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out 875

    countries in her.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. In what part of her body stands Ireland?

    Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where Scotland?

    Dromio of Syracuse. I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand. 880

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where France?

    Dromio of Syracuse. In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war

    against her heir.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where England?

    Dromio of Syracuse. I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no 885

    whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,

    by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where Spain?

    Dromio of Syracuse. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where America, the Indies? 890

    Dromio of Syracuse. Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with

    rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich

    aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole

    armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.

    Antipholus of Syracuse. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? 895

    Dromio of Syracuse. Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this

    drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me

    Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what

    privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my

    shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my 900

    left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch:

    And, I think, if my breast had not been made of

    faith and my heart of steel,

    She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made

    me turn i' the wheel.

The above is rendered intact in this Comedy of Errors with Ben Elliot as Antipholus of Syracuse and Luisa Jocic as Dromio of Syracuse.

To me this little dialogue has shades of my Spanish grandmother who used to recite El Quijote to me instead of telling me I had done something wrong. I did not know then that they were aphorisms, courtesy of Sancho Panza. My grandmother would say she had to go to the doctor because she was not well in “los paises bajos,” or lower countries. I have no idea if there is a tradition that may have begun with Shakespeare’s citing of Belgia and the Netherlands for women’s ills and parts down there.

Bellis’s The Comedy of Errors has Shakespeare’s words (almost) intact. There is one whopper “okay.” I asked Bellis after the performance and he told me that when it was first said nobody complained so it was left.

So if you listen to The Comedy of Errors it is Shakespeare at its best. There is no complaint from this erstwhile highbrow.

But if your eyes are wide open then the show has an additional wow factor (I will do my best not to use the word mentioned by so many reviewers) as the play is set in an alternative history/universe of the 19^th century. If you want a further explanation look here.

To those who some years may have seen ( I went twice it was that good) the Electric Theatre Company’s production of Studies in Motion – The Hauntings of Eadweard Muybridge which was choreographed from beginning to end by CrystalPite there is now a fine tradition in this city for choreographed plays. The choreographer here is Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg. I must digress here to say that she once appeared in Dances for a Small Stage as a mermaid (complete with fish tail!) and her performance on the stage floor involved only movements from the waist up.

In short this Comedy of Errors is a whopping visual delight that does what more Shakespeare should do. This is to make it accessible to the uninitiated youth and the not so youthful uninitiated. I mentioned this to Bellis whose reply was one word, “Bingo!”

I cannot write more eloquently about the fine acting but I must point out two fine performances and one more.

The first two are Ben Elliott as Antipholus of Syracuse (to be fair his part has juicier lines to Jay Hindle’s Antipholus of Ephesus). After having seen him in A Broken Sex Doll at the Cultch a few years ago I know he has a fine eye for babes. And in this Comedy of Errors he gets the babe. More on her later.

The real fantastic actress (an actor who is really played by an old fashioned actress who is playing an actress playing an actor) is Dawn Petten. She is  the only local theatrical performer ( to avoid that actor/actress muddle) who could make more money between plays in a Joe-Job as a stand-up comic. She is terrific. Petten has that instinctive talent of knowing when to talk and when not to.

In the beginning of the play she wheels in a scooter (the ones that were the rage some years ago. When she gets off she maneuvers into place a miniature kick stand. The audience roared. I asked Petten about the kick stand. I am happy to report that this was her contribution.

Now to the more difficult but perhaps more fun mention of that third performer. That is Lindsey Angell (the babe who falls for Antipholus of Syracuse) who plays Luciana sister to Adriana, Sereana Malani.

Costume Designer Mara Gottler in a dream appeared to me and asked me, “What would you like me to do with Angell?” I told her, "Dress her up to look like an alternative history librarian with glasses and a short skirt so I can see those legs and more from here to Elsinore. Make sure she is wearing fishnets. I want to be able to go to the front desk of her library and ask her, ‘Do you have a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover? (in an alternative universe D.H. Lawrence would have written it in the 19^th century)’”

Had Bellis showed up in that dream, too, I would have said to him, “Make sure she has a cutesy voice like my Rosemary’s when she talks to her cat Casi-Casi.” When she first appears on stage with those round and dark horned-rimmed glasses (and those fishnets) my heart accelerated and I noted a stirring in The Hague.

This Comedy of Errors is fun, still Shakespeare, interesting to watch and best of all, sexy.  My mother who was a snob would have liked it.

In an alternative universe Bard on the Beach would stage The Taming of the Shrew like this: Katherina would be Lindsey Angell and Petruchio Dawn Petten. Imagine that!

No Vancouver summer is so unless it is a warm night and you are walking back to your car after a fine performance at Bard on the Beach. This June 13 wasn't as warm as I would have wanted to but I know that it will be so when we go this Friday to King Lear.