Dinner with Dr. Andrew Gurr, professor at Reading University in England, one of the prime movers behind the reconstruction of the Globe Theatre, and an authority on Renaissance drama in performance. The previous night, he gave a fascinating lecture called "Hamlet and the Vertical Globe," which discussed the way in which the vertical structure of the Globe Theatre reflected the vertical hierarchy of Renaissance England's society, and how Hamlet played in such a space. He also touched on Hamlet's own movement within the social hierarchy from prince, to clown (read: actor), to king. It was a tremendously interesting lecture. And tonight, we had him over to Baker College for pizza (courtesy of the Fews) and talk.
He is a very friendly, funny man, incredibly learned, and he talked with us at great length about the play. We picked his brains as to what he knew about the play, and he also told us that The Winter's Tale will be running at the New Globe Theatre this spring. (It so happens I will be in London when it opens. I'm there.) It was a delightful evening, and what he had to say will undoubtedly prove useful to us. Some ideas about how to handle the final statue scene, interpretations of the characters, and so on.
We also learned something interesting about "Julio Romano," the sculptor who supposedly has made Hermione's statue. Here's the story.
First of all, WT contains the third-ever use of the word "posture" in the English language:
Her natural posture!
Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this seems.
(V, 3)
The second use, also in Shakespeare, appears in Antony and Cleopatra:
... I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I' the posture of a whore.
(V, 2)
A slightly different use of the word "posture," one might note.
The first use of the word "posture" in the English language comes from a famous Renaissance dirty book, one Artini's Postures, brought to England by Shakespeare's friend Ben Jonson. This book contained illustrations of some sixteen different sexual positions, accompanied by pithy sonnets thereon. The illustrations were taken from the pornographically painted bathroom of one of the Renaissance popes, which bathroom was painted by one...Julio Romano.
As Dr. Gurr said, "I probably shouldn't have told you, because this will completely change the way you look at the play..."
Addendum (from Karin Kross, 10 Jun 1997):
A bit of research has turned up something interesting with regard to the infamous Julio Romano story.
It's "Aretino's Postures," not "Artini's." Understandable mistake; I was writing the entry two days after the fact. Also, my source relates that Julio (or Giulio) Romano did not paint the pornographic pictures at the pope's request; apparently he did it in revenge for the pope's failure to pay up for other, more religiously-inclined work. This may or may not be true, however.
Anyway, just a bit of trivia.