For the entirety of the semester, I have avoided talking about myself in Her Campus articles. These are, after all, articles meant to be for you wonderful collegiettes—you whose beauty, talent, compassion and uniqueness serve to inspire us writers here Her Campus Duke. Even now, I am cringing to use the words “me,” “I,” and “my.” But this is a) my last article of the semester b) mostly about a long-dead poet and his lasting effects that c) can teach us all some wonderful things.
You may be asking yourself what a 44o year-old playwright who wrote some (albeit) famous works has to do with us collegiettes. This is the 21st century—we listen to modern poetry all the time (it’s called indie music) and our lives are about as dramatic as they can be without having to read Hamlet’s iambic pentameterlike we did in sophomore year of high school, thankyouverymuch.
This past weekend marked the performance of a group called Antic Shakespeare Company, formed by Duke’s own truly fabulous Jay O’Berski and Dana Marks—a group that I am involved with (as you’ve probably guessed.) Here are some golden nuggets of wisdom I’ve picked up along the way.
- Sometimes, you just have to wear the fat suit.It may not be the most glamorous costume, but it can still be sexy. For one of the Pericles scenes, Dana donned a fat suit (complete with water balloon you-know-whats) to give the crowd some laughs. Instead of shirking away from the uncomely fashion, she not only wore the fat suit, but added streaky make-up and a frizzy wig to boot. By fully-embracing the role and laughing off any judgment, Dana truly made the vibrant performance of the night. So go ahead and put on your metaphoric (or actual) fat suit and embrace the laughs.
- If you don’t get what you want the first time, persist. Whenever the world shakes (or Shake’s) you upside down, surprises are sure to follow. Many of Shakespeare’s plays include plenty of heartbreak, trauma, overly rash suicides, yadda-yadda. (We’re talking about you, Romeo.) But what Shakespeare’s plays (and those who live them) are never devoid of is passion. At first trying out for Antic Shake, it looked like I wasn’t going to make the cut (showbiz speak=not enough room for you.) I might’ve shed a tear, but I proclaimed to my roommate, “I will do anything—I will clean shoes to be a part of this group.” So, I emailed the director to respond to his call for backstage crew/tech help. But after a few weeks of attending group rehearsals and jumping at every whisper of an opportunity (such as being able to shadow a renowned Shakespearean actor Jonathan Cullen!) I secured a role—a glorious, four word part of a pirate. It just goes to show you that if you are persistent enough with your passion and never take no for an answer, then you can live your dreams. (And believe it or not, I was later offered an additional role of the watery spirit Ariel, as you see pictured above, starring opposite the über talented Jonathan!)
- You don’t have to use fancy syntax and prose to tell someone that you love them. But it doesn’t hurt.The night of the performance, as we actors rushed on stage to take a final bow, I saw the crowd filled with people who came out to support our work (which leaned toward modern/edgy interpretation but still maintained essential elements.) Students, professors, directors, athletes (ahem, we saw you Kyrie Irving) and all others of the Duke community came to see what Antic Shake had to offer. We hope that our transformation of the playwright’s works was moving, bold, and dare I say it, beautiful. Performing Shakespeare was our way of saying, “We love you, Duke. We even love you enough to declare our love using sonnets and iambic pentameter.” So, dear collegiettes, sometimes showing someone you love them is not about giving flowers, lavishing diamonds, or buying dinner (though you can never go wrong with such classics.) Sometimes sharing a passion with someone is one of the most pure forms of love. So, demonstrate to a loved one your juggling skills, or your fab cartoon scribbles, or even your ability to recite a sonnet. I promise you’ll thank me later.
- We can all learn to have a little forgiveness. “The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance,” said the great king Prospero.  Believe me; Shakespeare’s characters knew what it felt like to be cheated, wronged, beguiled, and enduring of all sorts of other tortures. Prospero lost a kingdom to a brother, suffered murderous coup d’état, and was marooned on a deserted island. He had his opportunity to not only take his revenge, but also take a sweet one too. But you know what? He decided to forgive everyone that did him wrong. Now I don’t know about you, but no one I know has developed a plan to murder me. I think the least I can do is forgive the transgressors of petty wrongs like name-calling and snubbing. And, who knows, I might even be able to forgive that person with a murder-plot or other major wrong, too.
- It’s never too late to live a fantasy.Never. If you’ve been thinking for ages you’ve wanted to try out for cricket, if you’ve had a gut instinct that you’d be good at underwater basket weaving, then take a chance. Go for it. What do you have to lose? One of the best things about being involved with Antic Shake was everyone’s unending support. I kept hearing over and over, “It’s never too late,” in response to my persual of acting. (Forget everything you’ve heard about actors being catty; these people are crazy genuine.) But I would have never had the chance to live this fantasy if I hadn’t bitten the bullet and tried for it. You can try for a fantasy, too. Try with all your heart.
- Just play, play, play. If you’ve worked tirelessly at something (or practiced so much your toes have started to bleed) sometimes the best technique is to let loose. You don’t have to give up complete control. But free yourself, embrace what you’ve worked at, and release your inhibitions to chance elements of the unknown. On the night of the performance, we were encouraged to take a chance with our scenes and add something new. And as I floated onstage to perform my final part, pitching myself into the unknown territory of the familiar felt bloody fantastic. Now, you may not be an unearthly sprite, but at some point freeing yourself to just play, play, play can be the most magical thing of all.
So my dear ones, I hope Mr. William, Antic Shake, & Co. has taught you something. Add a little passion and love to the batch. Sprinkle in a dash of poetry, a pinch of fantasy. Not a bad recipe to live your life, eh?Â