Tuesday 29 March 2016

The Blackburns: Family Tree

During the research for my MA thesis I dug up - almost literally - the Blackburn family, who lived in York from the late fourteenth century and seem to have been one of the city's leading families. They proved very helpful to me because the family patriarch, Nicholas Blackburn senior, and his wife Margaret left detailed wills, which are available online (translated from the original Latin) here.

The wills are noticeable for the almost obsessive concern they display with churches and chantries. Indeed, the Blackburns' identity, and their relationship to the city of York, is defined not, as might be expected, by the land or property they owned, but through the churches they worshipped at. This became an important part of my thesis, but today I want to look at what else the wills can tell us about the history of the Blackburn family.

Starting with the wills but later scrounging around for other information I managed to produce a Blackburn family tree covering roughly a century. It is still a work in progress - unfortunately most birth and death dates are currently lacking - but the tree still shows the principal family relationships during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

Although the Blackburns ended up as a very prominent York family their roots seem to lie not in Yorkshire at all but in Lancashire. They were a family of merchant traders, or mercers, meaning they dealt in cloth and textiles. At this they were obviously successful, since the wills show that they became very wealthy.

As to which part of Lancashire they came from, I would hazard a guess that it was the town of Blackburn or nearby. The evidence for this, such as it is, is two-fold: firstly the Blackburns' name (family names in the Middle Ages were often related to where a person lived); secondly, their occupation. Blackburn, which is old enough to be mentioned in the Domesday Book, was by the mid 1200s a textile manufacturing town. As we know that the Blackburns were mercers, it seems not unreasonable to suggest that they may originally have been linked with the town.

However, at some point they moved over the border into Yorkshire. Nicholas Blackburn senior, who became the head of the York family, was born around 1360 or thereabouts in Richmond, about fifty miles north of York. He married Margaret Ormeshead, the daughter of another prominent local merchant family. They had at least five children: John, Nicholas junior, William, Isabel and Alice. William seems to have been the black sheep of the family as he is scarcely mentioned in his parents' wills - so much so that at first I overlooked him and counted only four children.

By the late 1300s the family had moved to York, to North Street, home to the York Mercers. The parish church of both the Mercers' Guild and the Blackburn family was All Saints North Street. There is no evidence, however, to suggest one way or the other whether Nicholas Blackburn was a member of the Mercers' Guild. But he and his wife were certainly members of the Corpus Christi Guild, one of the most prestigious guilds in York; they joined in 1414, by which time they were clearly well-established members of the York community: in 1406 Nicholas had been made King's Admiral of the North and in 1412 Lord Mayor of York (a position also held by his son, Nicholas junior, in 1429).

Of the Blackburn children, John married twice but died prematurely in 1426 or 1427, leaving Nicholas junior (who like his father also married a Margaret, which is distinctly confusing) their father’s heir. I have found no mention of William marrying, but Isabel and Alice did; between them these four children seem to have supplied their parents with several grandchildren and great-grandchildren, though John's two sons seem to have predeceased him. Several Blackburns, Sandfords and Boltons are mentioned in the wills of Nicholas and Margaret - the descendants of, respectively, Nicholas, Isabel and Alice. The exact relations of the Sandfords to one another, however, are (at least at the moment) not clear, which is why I can only tentatively group them together in the family tree. Certainly they seem to have been a large family.

Nicholas and Margaret senior are buried together in York Minster - as Nicholas puts it in his will,  “under my marble stone which has been prepared on that spot for the purpose.” This is yet a further indication of their prominence and prestige within the York community, since at this time most people were buried within their parish church or its graveyard.

The Blackburns have become my pet project - although they were clearly important to York and particularly the All Saints North Street parish for at least the first third of the fifteenth century there is little information about them readily accessible. Most scholarly studies of the Blackburns relate to the stained glass windows they donated to All Saints North Street. Though the windows are important, they are surely not the only aspects of the Blackburns' lives worth investigating.

However, the evidence is there - in the wills, in the churches, and in the civic records - and I am trying to sift and sort this to build up a more detailed picture of the Blackburns' lives. Doing so offers a way into the complex, rich and detailed world of the faith of medieval York.

Sunday 27 March 2016

Easter Day

via


Christus resurgens ex mortuis, jam non moritur, mors ili ultra non dominabitur. 
Quod enim mortuus est peccato, mortuus est semel, quod autem vivit, vivit Deo,
Alleluia.
Mortuus est enim propter delicta nostra: et resurrexit propter justifcationem nostram,
Quod autem vivit Deo,
Alleluia.

(Christus Resurgens, Peter Phillips, 1612.)


A very happy Easter to one and all!

Friday 25 March 2016

Good Friday

The Deposition: detail from the Passion and Resurrection sequence [late fourteenth century], All Saints Pavement, York

At þe tyme of none iesu gun cry;
he wytte his saul to his fadyr, [Eli].
A knyght smat him to þe hert, had he no mercy;
pe sone be-gane to wax myrk qwen iesu gun dy.
lord out of þi syd ran a ful fayre flud
As clere as well water our rannson bi þi blode.

(From the York Hours of the Cross, in The Lay Folks Mass Book (London: Oxford University Press for the Early English Text Society, 1968), 82-87.)

Easter in the Middle Ages

 
Syllic wæs se sigebeam ~ Wondrous was that tree of victory.
[From The Dream of the Rood]

Recently I came across these two articles and thought them worth sharing:

"This doubtful day of feast or fast" - Good Friday this year falls on March 25th, the feast of the Annunciation (Lady Day, as it was called in the Middle Ages). This article (from the blog A Clerk of Oxford by Eleanor Parker) explores the medieval link between the two events.

Holy Week: The Triduum before the English Reformation - well, this article (from the blog Supremacy and Survival: The English Reformation by Stephanie A. Mann) does what it says in the title - explores the medieval Triduum (the three days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter morning).
It also notes that Margaret Clitherow was martyred 470 years ago today, Friday 25th March 1586. In that year as in this, Good Friday fell on the 25th March.



þūhte mē þæt ic gesāwe syllicre trēow
on lyft lædan lēohte bewunden,
bēama beorhtost.

From the Anglo-Saxon poem The Dream of the Rood, which describes the Crucifixion. Translated, the lines read:

It seemed to me that I saw a very wondrous tree,
Suspended in the air, surrounded by light,
The brightest of trees. 

You can read the whole poem, in both Old English and in a modern English translation, at this very useful website.

Thursday 24 March 2016

Maundy Thursday | The Last Supper

via
JESUS  & Pees be both be day and nyght
Untill this house and till all that is here.
Here will I holde as I have hight
The feeste of Paas with frendis in feere.

This is the opening of the York Last Supper play (performed, appropriately enough, by the York Baker's guild). Unfortunately, though the beginning and ending of the play survive intact, the manuscript page containing the central episode (where Christ says of the bread "This is My body," and of the wine, "This is My Blood") has mysteriously disappeared, presumably removed at the Reformation for adhering too closely to traditional Catholic doctrine. 

Probably this occurred in the early sixteenth century - the whole cycle of mystery plays was finally banned in 1569, but before this happened there were several years of 'tinkering' with the individual pageants to tone down more overtly Catholic aspects (this happened with several of the plays dealing with the Virgin Mary as well as with the Last Supper). 

With the page gone, there is of course no way of saying with certainty what it contained. But, given the closeness with which the other mystery plays follow their scriptural and liturgical counterparts, it is highly likely that the missing page, which occurs precisely where we would expect Christ’s performance of the transubstantiation to occur in the sequence of the play, ran along the lines of:

... this is My Body which shall be delivered for you; this do for the commemoration of Me... This chalice is the new testament in My blood; this do ye, as often as you shall drink, for the commemoration of Me. For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come. Therefore whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink of the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord...

which are the words of the Epistle for the Corpus Christi feast. The same words appear, with slight variations, in the Epistle for Maundy Thursday, and of course in the Canon of every Mass.

Tuesday 22 March 2016

The Lay Folks Mass Book

After spending more than a year working with the university library's well-loved (read: decrepit and dog-eared) copy of the Lay Folks [no, there is no apostrophe] Mass Book, I finally have my own new and beautiful edition, in celebration of having finished my thesis:

 
The Lay Folks Mass Book, usually abbreviated to LFMB, is probably the most well-known of the medieval treatises on the Mass. Several of these treatises were produced in order to help the lay congregation follow the progression of the rite.

The LFMB was most likely translated into English from French in the latter half of the twelfth century. The text is important not only for what it reveals about the devotions of lay people at Mass but because it may have a local connection with York. Thomas Simmons, the original 1879 editor of the LFMB, decided that the text was originally translated into a northern English dialect (then, later, into Midland and Southern forms) and that the "Dan Jeremy" mentioned as author in two of the manuscripts may be the Jeremy who was Archdeacon of Cleveland (in the York diocese) by 1171. Unfortunately this theory can never be proved, but it is not unreasonable.

Unlike modern missals, the LFMB is not a translation or explanation of the Mass prayers and rubrics. Instead it is a set of vernacular prayers which encourage the reader to meditate on the benefits of the Mass and the Crucifixion. The basic structure of the Mass is traceable - I was quite easily able to follow a modern-day Tridentine Mass (the form in which the Mass was celebrated throughout the Middle Ages) using the LFMB as people today use a missal. The Confiteor, Gloria, Creed and Pater Noster are given in the text as (slightly corrupted) translations of their Latin versions, but the other prayers, though their intentions do roughly match those offered by the priest, are not translations of the Latin Mass prayers. Much of the book is taken up with identifying the priest’s actions, which function as cues either for private meditation (usually on the Crucifixion) or for the saying of private prayers, conveniently provided. 



The LFMB tends to become rather repetitive, as it reduces the continuous action of the Mass to specific, easily identifiable points in the liturgy. These serve as triggers for recalling the congregation to contemplation of Christ’s Passion, and as reminders for the people to say the appropriate prayer - nothing more. It does not encourage the people to progress beyond this basic level of response to the liturgy. 

However, that the book exists at all suggests that there was some expectation to involve the congregation with the Mass - to give them a role, or, at the very least, a set of signals through which they could follow what was happening at the altar. It indicates a medieval concern over how to include the congregation - or audience - and how to shape their experience. As these are issues that also concern a playwright, these cues, which do function rather in the manner of stage directions, are what gave me the idea that the Mass rite can be examined from a dramatic viewpoint, and therefore compared and contrasted with conventional drama. Since the Passion plays of the York mystery cycle are very closely aligned (in form, structure and language) with the liturgy and with the Mass, I started to look more closely at where and how the two are linked, and where and how they differ. This was the starting point of my thesis.

Some of the important 'cues' pin-pointed in the LFMB are:
  • the movement of the priest (or deacon) to the left-hand side of the altar for the reading of the Gospel, a signal for the congregation to “speke... noght/bot thenk on him that dere the boght” [speak not,/But think on Him (Christ) that thee dearly bought]
  • the Elevation of the Host, signalled by "a litel belle men oyse to ryng" [a little bell men use to ring]. The correct response to this signal was to "knelande holde vp both þi handes, /And so þo leuacioun þou be-halde" [kneeling, hold up both thy hands,/And so behold the elevation]
  • The priest's "spred[ing] of his arms on brade" [in the form of a cross], recalled not only the Crucifixion but also signified the “tyme to praye for the dede” [the time to pray for the dead]
  • The Pater Noster said by the priest, indicating that the Kiss of Peace was approaching, when the congregation kissed the pax (a little plaque of ivory or metal) handed round to them at the altar rails. [The medieval Kiss of Peace has an interesting and somewhat chequered history, but this shall be saved for another post!] 
One final note: for those of you who use the Father Lasance missal, the LFMB is mentioned in the introduction. See if you can find it!

Sunday 20 March 2016

Palm Sunday | The Entry Into Jerusalem

via

JESUS:   To me takis tent and giffis gud hede,
My dere discipulis that ben here,
I schall you telle that shal be indede;
My tyme to passe hense, it drawith nere,
And by this skill
Mannys sowle to save fro sorowes sere
That loste was ill.

From heven to erth whan I dyssende
Rawnsom to make I made promys,
The prophicie nowe drawes to ende;
My Fadirs wille forsoth it is
That sente me hedyr.
Petir, Phelippe, I schall you blisse
And go togedir

Unto yone castell that is you agayne,
Gois with gud harte and tarie noght,
My comaundement to do be ye bayne.
Also I you charge loke it be wrought
That schal ye fynde
An asse, this feste als ye had soght,
Ye hir unbynde

With hir foole, and to me hem bring
That I on hir may sitte a space
So the prophicy clere menyng
May be fulfilled here in this place:
“Doghtyr Syon,
Loo, thi Lorde comys rydand on an asse,
Thee to opon.” (The Entry Into Jerusalem l.1-28)


The York play of the Entry into Jerusalem was performed by the Skinners' Guild. The 'yon castell' referred to by Jesus is probably Clifford's Tower, which stands in the centre of the city, providing a well-known landmark. This fleeting moment both brings together historical and present time within the play and also hints at how inextricably the York play cycle as a whole was linked with the geography and architecture of the city.

The play concludes with the citizens of Jerusalem welcoming Christ into their city:

Hayll, domysman dredfull, þat all schall deme,
Hayll, [þat all] quyk and dede schall lowte,
Hayll, whom worschippe moste will seme,
Hayll, whom all thyng schall drede and dowte.
We welcome þe;
Hayll, and welcome of all abouwte,
To owre ceté. (l.538-44)
The structure of the play is, as Beadle and King point out, very close to a medieval royal welcome: 

the tableau at the end [of the play], with its ordered arrangement of formal greetings, suggests that the dramatist had in mind the conventions of the contemporary royal entry into the medieval town. In the last lines of the play, the local audience must have had a strong sense that the King of Heaven was being welcomed as much to medieval York as to the biblical Jerusalem.
(Beadle and King, introduction to The Entry Into Jerusalem, in York Mystery Plays: A Selection in Modern Spelling (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 106.) 

They also note that "Jesus must have ridden on the ass in the street amongst the audience, who were thus deftly drawn into the illusion of the play, and given a role as the crowd that lined the route into Jerusalem" (ibid.) As with the earlier reference to the castle, Biblical and contemporary time, the sacred (the subjects dealt with in the plays) and the secular (the city of York) are brought together. For the plays' original audiences, Biblical events, happenings and locations were blended with what was for them modern-day York, intertwining them until they became virtually indistinguishable.

Yf any man will you gaynesaye,
Say that youre Lorde has nede of tham
And schall restore thame this same day
Unto what man will tham clayme.
 

Thursday 17 March 2016

The 17th March...

... is, as we all know,

ST PATRICK'S DAY!!!


St Patrick (of course) - St Patrick's Cathedral, Auckland, NZ

Here is a fifteenth-century image of St Pat:

via

And, because I just love my stained glass, here is another Irish saint for good measure:

St Brigid, in the chapel of the Irish saints (St Patrick's Cathedral, Melbourne, Australia)

HAPPY ST PADDY'S DAY!!

Tuesday 15 March 2016

Auckland libraries Shakespeare Exhibition

A First Folio edition, via
Auckland Libraries has one of the 228 surviving copies of the First Folio, gifted by Sir George Grey in 1894. Along with other Folios, a Quarto of Pericles, and various contemporary works by other Elizabethan writers, it will be on display at the Central City Library (44-46 Lorne Street) until 19th June.


See also Auckland Libraries' Virtual Shakespeare Exhibition.

Monday 14 March 2016

The Tempest

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on."

This was the AUSA's Summer Shakespeare production, relocated from its usual spot (behind the university Clocktower) to the Pop-Up Globe.

The scenery and staging was - um - interesting, to say the least. The set consisted of a pile of plastic chairs; I never did quite work what they were intended to represent.

One thing I really, really liked was how Ariel was played by three separate actors, which neatly captured the changeability, and the here-and-there-ness, of this character.

Prospero was played by Lisa Harrow. I have no idea who played the other characters (though several faces were familiar from previous AUSA productions), because the Globe management is still not sufficiently organised to provide programmes ;) Though they have managed to procure the usher's T-Shirts, which are rather neat:

front
back

 We had seats yesterday, in the lower gallery:

View from the lower gallery

Some members of the audience (in one of the Lords' Boxes) really got into the spirit of things:



And now, because no words of mine can do sufficient justice to the wackiness of this production, some more photos:

Ariel 

"Hast thou, spirit,/Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?"
Caliban: "This island's mine by Sycorax my mother,/Which thou tak'st from me."
"Hag-seed, hence!"
Wider view of the stage. The pig-headed people, who for the most part just sat around watching the action, were quite creepy - vaguely reminiscent of Lord of the Flies.
"What have we here?" Trinculo does his Jack Sparrow imitation.
Stephano looks on bemused. "What's the matter? Have we devils here?"
Enter Ferdinand bearing a log. Though there is nothing in this stage direction stipulating that Ferdinand should be shirtless, the actors at the Pop-Up Globe seem to be doing quite a few shirtless scenes!
The goddesses Iris, Ceres and Juno bless the betrothed Ferdinand and Miranda (whose courtship takes exceedingly literally the love-at-first-sight trope! Romeo and Juliet are usually held up as the prime example of an o'er hasty marriage but these two are just as bad...)
The wedding masque (frankly surreal)
"... this rough magic/I here abjure..."
"... I'll break my staff,/Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,/And deeper than ever did plummet sound/I'll drown my book."
"Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee,/But yet thou shalt have freedom."

"...this thing of darkness I/Acknowledge mine."
One last confusing fling in the final scene - "more matter for a May morning!"

Friday 11 March 2016

Twelfth Night: Second Impressions

The Globe on a balmy evening

This production of Twelfth Night is coming dangerously close to knocking Hamlet off its previously unassailable pedestal as my favourite Shakespeare play!

Yesterday I saw it for the second time, at the evening performance and as a paying groundling this time. The Globe looks very pretty at night, with loops of fairy lights strung along the galleries. Despite the morning radio forecast, it did not rain (!) - in fact it was a lovely balmy evening. 

I think the best thing about this production is the way the actors interact with the audience, and how the dynamics of this interaction change slightly with every performance. There was a good deal of ad libbing yesterday, to hilarious effect. At one point someone accidentally dropped a bag of crisps from one of the Lord's Boxes onto the stage. Malvolio picked it up and strolled around the stage laconically eating its contents (it was during the yellow-stockinged-and-cross-gartered scene); then Maria snatched it off him and tossed it straight back up into the box, where it was neatly fielded by one of the audience sitting there.

Then during one of the Sebastian-and-Antonio scenes, Sebastian produced a camera, handed it to one of the groundlings near the stage, and got him to take a photo, just as a modern-day tourist might do. Despite being anachronistic with the rest of the costuming and staging, it was so very funny, and in fact quite in keeping with the tone of the scene, which is Sebastian-as-tourist:

Sebastian: "Shall we go see the relics of the town?
[...]
Antonio: "... I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town." (III.3)

In the final scene, when saying, "Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace," Olivia gestured to another of the groundlings, gesticulating that she should follow him - which, after a good deal of encourgement, she did, to much mirth.

But the biggest laugh of the night was probably reserved for Olivia's rapturous gasp of "Most wonderful" when finally confronted with the two twins!

You can read more about this production here. Do go and see it if you can, but you will probably have to be a groundling, for seated tickets have practically sold out for the rest of the run. But it is great fun, and there is a very nice bar, with very comfy seats, to which you can retreat in the interval for a little pick-me-up if you get tired of standing :D

Wednesday 9 March 2016

Ushering session #2: Romeo and Juliet

"Thus with a kiss I die."
The Globe flying the black flag (L) of tragedy for the "star-cross'd" lovers. The red flag on the right is the Globe standard and flies for every play; the left flag changes colour according to the play being performed: black for a tragedy, white for a comedy, red for a history

This could not quite live up to Twelfth Night but I am still very glad to have seen it! 

Romeo and Juliet is performed by the same company doing Twelfth Night, but with the addition of women to the casting :) It was interesting seeing the Twelfth Night actors re-inventing themselves as Montagues and Capulets. I spent a long time wondering who Juliet's father reminded me of before realising that he was Maria from Twelfth Night!

It was another school matinee and the children seemed to enjoy it. Certainly they loved Romeo and Juliet's smooching!

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Juliet on her balcony yearns for her lover, to the great delight of her audience.

The fight scenes were suitably exciting and vast quantities of fake blood were poured all over the stage (it had to be swabbed down at the end).

The rapier-and-dagger version of the haka

Somehow, though, the "tale of woe" that is "Juliet and her Romeo" came across as more funny than woeful. In fact, with Romeo gyrating around the stage like the worst stereotype of a modern teenager, it felt as though they were actively trying to turn the play into a comedy. Perhaps this is unfair; playing on that huge stage and to three levels, tender looks and soft speeches just don't work. They would get lost in the space, so subtlety gets sacrificed in favour of boldness. 

Tybalt's (R) bold swordsmanship could not save him from a gory death

Also, they were playing to school children, who generally abhor "soppiness"; it would be interesting to see how they play the evening performances to an older audience, and how the comedic dynamics of the play shift.

Verdict? Not quite as good as Twelfth Night, but still definitely well worth a watch!

Friday 4 March 2016

World Book Day

 "Painfully to pore upon a book
To seek the light of truth."
 - Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost 

"Knowing I loved my books, he furnished me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom."
- Shakespeare, The Tempest 

"I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading." - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
 
4th March is apparently World Book Day. Well, what d'ya know! The Telegraph has a list of 20 novels everyone 'should' read for the day (I can only tick off a mere 11).

However, being an English student, I do read quite a bit... some of my favourite books (in no particular order) are:


Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by the Pearl Poet
Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell
Shirley by ditto
Jane Austen's novels (especially Emma and P&P
Middlemarch by Virginia Woolf
Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy
Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín
The Collected Works of William Shakespeare :D
Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe
The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
Translations by Brian Friel
The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde
Frost in May by Antonia White
Cider With Rosie by Laurie Lee
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The York Mystery Plays by... well, I wish I knew; if I did my academic career would be guaranteed ;)

Leave a comment and tell me some of your favourite books!

(NB: because of the Blogger 'comment moderation' function your comments may take a few hours to appear after you click 'publish'.)

Thursday 3 March 2016

Experiencing the Pop-Up Globe

"If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction." (III.4.108-9)

The playhouse from Greys Ave (just before you enter the Civic carpark)

Yesterday was my first session ushering for the Pop-Up Globe. The theatre (or playhouse, to give it its Elizabethan name) is quite remarkable and there was a real buzz about the place.


The yard and galleries

The playhouse has a brilliant capacity for allowing the actors to interact with the audience - it holds 898 but because of the shape is quite intimate and no member of the audience is ever very far from the stage. Playing to the three different levels as well as around 360 degrees must be quite a challenge for the actors but they did a very good (and lively) job.

My view of the stage

My ushering job was not very strenuous and I got to see the entire play with a very good view. With three other ushers, I was in charge of the groundlings in the pit (or yard). This meant standing for the entire running length, but that was small hardship in return for a free viewing of Twelfth Night (one of my favourite Shakespeare plays) and the whole experience of the playhouse generally :)

Maria and the gloriously-named Sir Toby Belch


The performance was a special school matinee (no members of the general public allowed!). Some of the children had come up from as far as Hamilton. Intriguingly, the boys - mostly - managed to stay interested and involved throughout the whole play, but many of the girls were in and out of the theatre (this is allowed, even encouraged - apparently it is part of the 'authentic Shakespearean experience!) like yo-yos.

Some of the children were very young (well under ten). One little girl of about five or six kept hooting with laughter at the play's frequent - shall we say - adult humour, to the extreme discomfiture of the adults in charge of her!

Malvolio "practising behaviour to his own shadow"


The director and actors certainly had a field day with the comedy, to the extreme delight of the school children. Perhaps they overdid the comedy to the point of losing some of the play's pathos, especially with Malvolio, but on the whole it worked well - fast-paced and forceful; certainly there was nothing subtle about it!

The final scene - which resulted in a sudden resurgence of interest from the school children, who all swept forward towards the stage; even the yo-yo-ing girls decided it was worth coming back for.

The cast is an all-male one and in Elizabethan dress. (Feste, however, ended the play in jeans and hoodie; and Sebastian, in the capacity of witless tourist, kept whipping out a very modern camera and map - which was funny but not really in keeping with the rest of the costuming and staging). Apart from a rather peevish Viola/Cesario and the aforementioned clueless Sebastian, I loved the casting, especially Stephen Butterworth as Maria, Paul Willis as Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Adrian Hooke as Feste (his Kiwi accent when teasing Malvolio was priceless). The musicians were wonderful too.

Verdict? Get thee hence and book thyself tickets!!

"But that's all one, our play is done, and we'll strive to please you every day."

Tuesday 1 March 2016

Quiz: do you belong in the Middle Ages?

We had a lot of fun with the Could you survive a Master's degree? quiz, so here is another.

Do you belong in the Middle Ages? Take the quiz and find out!


via


1. Your knowledge of Middle English is

A. Non-existent. You think Middle English is ancient Greek.
B. Fair. You can recognise all the crude, vulgar and bawdy words, because these haven't changed at all from the fourteenth century to this.
C. Undergraduate level. You are aware that can in Middle English does not mean "is able to" but rather "knows," and for the rest, well, you'll just take a guess at it.
D. Expert. You can say the Rosary in Middle English.

2. The letter þ in the Old and Middle English alphabet is called

A. How the heck should I know?
B. It's a p in a funny font.
C. Thorn. You know this because you are a rabid JRR Tolkien fan.
D. Thorn, of course.

3. Middle English has no rules for spelling, grammar or punctuation. True or false?

A. True.
B. False.
C. Well... it's complicated.

4. You perceive the people of the Middle Ages as

A. Saints.
B. Sinners.
C. A beguiling mixture of both.
D. Just people.

5. You think an anchoress is

A. Part of a ship.
B. A kind of female hermit.

6. You are a tourist in an unfamiliar city trying to get your bearings. The first thing you locate is

A. The shrine of the local saint. 
B. The local tavern.
C. It's a tie.

7. You find old churches

A. Fascinating. You can estimate the age of the stained glass on sight.
B. Boring. One church is just like another!

8. Speaking of which, a kirk is

A. That chap from Spartacus
B. The Middle English northern dialect word for a church, of course.

9. You tell the time by

A. Church bells.
B. A clock.
C. Time doesn't matter to you.
D. Your Apple smartwatch.

10. Someone says to you, "Middle English? Oh... like Shakespeare?" Your reaction is:

A. Exasperated.
B. You patiently try to put them right.
C. You couldn't care less.

Answers:

1. A = 1 point, B = 2 points, C = 3 points, D = 4 points
2. A = 1 point, B = 2 points, C = 3 points, D = 4 points
3. A, B = 1 point, C = 2 points
4. A, B = 1 point, C = 2 points, D = 3 points
5. A = 1 point, B = 2 points
6. A, B = 1 point, C = 2 points
7. A = 2 points, B = 1 point
8. A = 1 point, B = 2 points
9. A = 4 points, B = 3 points, C = 2 points, D = 1 point
10. A = 3 points, B = 2 points, C = 1 point

Results:
22 - 28 points: Haill, frende!!
14 - 21 points: You are quite fond of Robin Hood, but otherwise the Middle Ages are still a mystery.
under 14 points: For you, history begins with Star Wars.