“The Crux of Much Ado is Gossip”
February 4
When the group gathered, we noticed it was smaller than usual. A participant shared that she had been talking about her role with some people in her unit: “I’m trying to get them bitches married!” With the call-out not opening until Thursday, we didn’t have a structured plan, so we left it open for the group. One participant suggested we use the smaller group to make production decisions but agreed that everyone should have a vote, so we tabled that conversation. Instead, she suggested an exercise from past seasons: removing consonants.
We spread around the room to work independently, reading a line or monologue using only vowels before reading it as written. When we came back together, one participant read a Borachio speech. “It feels like a speech therapy exercise,” she said. “She read smoother,” another added. “The words packed a punch,” someone commented. “It’s a focus thing,” the first participant continued. “Focusing on the vowels is hard. Knocking the consonants to the side.”
Another participant read a Beatrice speech. She judged herself a lot during the exercise but improved noticeably. “You said it so smooth,” someone commented. Another participant followed with a Don John speech. “It was easier to read it after I worked so hard,” she said. “I was against it in the beginning. It took me out of my comfort zone.”
Another participant refused to do the vowel exercise but read a Leonato monologue. Fisher-Grant suggested she focus on the verbs, which she tried. Another participant did a Don Pedro speech. “It does seem easier,” she admitted after reading it normally. Cannella read a Margaret speech, and another participant did a Hero monologue, struggling with the vowels but coming back strong with the full text. Another read Dogberry. One participant finished with a Claudio line.
Someone suggested a read-around of a long monologue, reading to a comma or period. We tried the Leonato monologue, switching readers at the punctuation. I introduced the concept of reading until the punctuation change, and we tried that, too. Fisher-Grant and Cannella jokingly “beefed” about whether you read to the line end or the punctuation.
A participant commented that she didn’t like the last line about grief turning into advertisement. Another defended it, suggesting we replace “advertisement” with “an owl at night.”
Then, someone suggested reading the monologue in funny voices. She sang her lines first, which got the group laughing, then encouraged everyone to sing through it.
With the last 10 minutes, we played Bippity Bippity Bop, then the Counting Game. We raised the ring and ended the night.
February 6
To start the evening, we set up the chairs and chatted. More members trickled in, making it our highest-attended session since the season began. Fisher-Grant introduced himself and the basics of Shakespeare in Prison, welcoming new participants and inviting them to introduce themselves.
After check-ins, Fisher-Grant introduced “bringing down the ring” as one of our two required exercises. We tried it, and more than one new participant put something into the ring..
We then split into two groups: new participants stayed in the auditorium with Fisher-Grant to go through the welcome packet, while returning members closed the curtain on stage to work without interruptions. Tejada and I asked how they wanted to spend the time, offering some ideas. They chose to start with walking in character.
Since everyone in this group had been assigned a role, we encouraged them to explore how posture and movement shape communication. They walked around the space, finding their characters physically. Then, we layered in another step: I called out a character name, and everyone but that character froze to watch how they moved.
Some discoveries emerged:
“I liked having a sword.”
“I like having the mustache!”
“I’m having fun with this scroll.”
For the next round, when I called “stop,” participants froze and had an in-character conversation with the person nearest them. It was more chaotic but full of energy. Two participants kept landing together as Benedick and Beatrice, and at one point, one even dropped to one knee and presented plastic flowers.
We circled up to share signature gestures:
Hero buried her face in her hands.
A villainous mustache twist.
Fanning while lifting an imaginary dress.
The Thinker pose.
A dramatic eye roll.
A monocle and a head wiggle.
Stroking an imaginary beard.
Reading from a long scroll.
One hand tucked into a shirt while resting the other on an imaginary sword.
To end, we played Pancake, where a “cook,” “customer,” and “doctor” improvise a scene based on a suggested theme. Our rounds included:
French: “These crepes are to die for!”
Cowboy: A doctor drawling, “Well, looks like you got a case of the rattlesnake belly.”
Valley Girl, Bronx, and Cockney British all brought different flavors of comedy.
As we finished, the new participants rejoined us. Fisher-Grant told the group that the next day was Shakespeare in Prison’s anniversary, and we celebrated. A new participant shared she had waited one and a half years to join.
Existing ensemble members recapped what they had worked on, revisiting favorite Pancake moments and character gestures. One summed up their character: “Leonato is a thinker.” Another’s interpretation of Margaret’s constant movement for Hero clicked with the group: “Hero always needs something.”
We wrapped up with a summary of Much Ado. One ensemble member gave a detailed rundown. When they got to the Masquerade, a new participant said, “Ooh, that’s messy,” which got general agreement. The story resonated with the new folks. Fisher-Grant added, “The crux [of Much Ado], for me, is gossip.” Heads nodded.
We raised the ring and ended early, hoping to see everyone back next time.