This week, we continued our exploration of Shakespeare’s monologues, but something began to shift. Ensemble members weren’t just reading the words anymore. They were standing up, moving, experimenting, making choices, and beginning to discover what happens when Shakespeare moves from the page into the body.
One ensemble member started us off with Puck. After working through the language and talking about the context of the piece, I asked her to try it again with a specific objective: convince all of us not to ask for our money back.
She gave it another try, but I wanted her to fight even harder for what she wanted. So we made the objective physical. I stood behind my chair and told her she had to keep me from leaving. Another ensemble member joined the exercise, giving her one more person she had to convince to stay.
Afterward, I asked the group what had changed.
“She moved more. She gestured,” one ensemble member observed.
Another participant recognized that the physical objective had changed her relationship with the language itself. “It’s cool. It puts more energy into it. It helped me understand what I was saying.”
That discovery carried through the rest of the night.
Another participant performed Phebe and made the choice to stand during her monologue. Before we even began discussing the text, an ensemble member celebrated how much her work had developed: “You’ve come a long way. I’m so proud of you!”
When asked why she had chosen to stand, the performer explained, “I wanted to bring more emphasis.” We talked about what was happening in the monologue and then explored the antithesis within the language – the ways Phebe’s thoughts seem to pull her in competing directions. After trying it again with those contrasts in mind, the participant immediately identified what she had discovered: “I emphasized her fighting herself.”
The next participant followed her example and stood up throughout her performance of Romeo. We explored the context of the monologue and talked about Shakespeare’s use of “O,” giving her another element of the language to play with. Rather than simply applying the direction everywhere, she wanted to choose which moments made sense to her and which she wanted to leave alone. She tried the monologue again, making those choices for herself.
Later, another participant took on Hermione. Her first reading was strong, but it was clear that she didn’t fully understand the circumstances surrounding the speech. The ensemble stepped in.
“Act as if you have been wrongly accused,” one participant suggested.
She tried it again.
The difference was incredible.
Suddenly, the stakes of the speech were present. The group could see exactly what had changed. “She was pleading her case,” one participant reflected. “I liked the second one,” an ensemble member added.
An ensemble member had also developed a much clearer understanding of Hermione’s perspective. Her interpretation was direct: “Whatever you gotta say, I don’t give a fuck.”
For the performer, Hermione’s circumstances created an unexpected personal connection. She shared, “My son was taken away cause he was born a premie. I can identify with it.”
Moments like these remind us that understanding Shakespeare doesn’t always begin with knowing every word. Sometimes it begins with understanding the circumstance. What does this person want? What has happened to them? What are they fighting for? Once that becomes clear, language that initially feels distant can suddenly become immediate.
The evening also gave us opportunities to challenge some assumptions about who gets to play which roles. Near the end of the session, an ensemble member began Macbeth before stopping herself almost immediately.
“I can’t play a man.”
When I asked why, she explained, “My voice is too feminine.”
But in our ensemble, Shakespeare’s characters aren’t limited by the gender of the person reading them. Anyone can try Macbeth. Anyone can try Lear, Romeo, Juliet, Puck, Hermione, Richard, or Antony. Right now, the goal isn’t to decide who belongs in which role. It’s to explore.
That freedom to explore is becoming increasingly visible in the room. One participant even shared that she has a friend interested in Shakespeare and had told her about the SIP blog. Only a few sessions into the season, Shakespeare is already becoming something ensemble members are talking about beyond our circle.
We ended the night with a challenge: everyone, and especially those who haven’t performed yet, should prepare a monologue for our next session.
Next week, we’ll turn our attention fully toward King Lear. But these early weeks are giving us something important first. Ensemble members are experimenting with voice, movement, objectives, language, characters, and circumstances without the pressure of having to get any of it “right.”
Instead, we’re asking what happens when you try something different.