Shakespeare’s Hamlet is perhaps the most well known piece of theatre of all time. There have been countless renditions of this play from theatrical summer camps to the stages of Broadway to the silver screen. This is hardly surprising; beyond the plot chock full of ghosts, love, murders, and madness, Hamlet (like many of Shakespeare’s works) also includes a deep exploration of the inner life of humans. Throughout the history of these productions there have been many different takes on the world in which this story exists. The picture below, taken at The Victoria and Albert Museum in their theatre wing, shows a set model from a 1911 production.
The plaque below it reads “Early 20th-century audiences expected plays to be performed in naturalistic scenery. Edward Gordon Craig reacted against this stage realism. For his production of Hamlet at the Moscow Art Theatre, he designed an abstract setting of moveable screens, lit from above by coloured light. Though the production suffered from technical problems, Craig’s ideas on design became very influential.”
I believe that, as theatre makers (and artists in general), we are drawn to pushing against the status quo. Theatre as an artform is all about enacting a change in the audiences who attend. Sometimes this comes in the form of a raucous comedy meant to uplift spirits and build community. Other times one sees a lavish musical meant to incite passion and awe. Other times still, and certainly in the case of Hamlet, it comes in the form of a drama meant to move and spark curiosity. Dramas are the backbone of theatre, dating all the way back to ancient Greece and even before then to ancient Egyptian and Chinese performances detailing the stories of deities. These stories are meant to teach, yes, but they are also meant to make the audience question. Some questions will be answered and others will stay open for each person to draw their own conclusion.
It is this questioning – a quality so present in Hamlet – that makes this set design work. By pushing against the grain of what audiences had grown to expect in theatres of the early 1900s, Craig started the questioning as soon as people entered the room. What could this abstract world hold? How would it transform from place to place within the story? Am I even in the right theatre? (Okay, maybe not that last one, but it would definitely be a thought that passed through my brain!) These audience members have been primed to dig deeper, to be curious, and to find their own meaning before even seeing an actor onstage or hearing one word uttered.
This set also works with the inner lives of the characters in Hamlet. Much like the empty and dull stage seen above, Hamlet’s life has become barren and full of grief since the death of Old Hamlet, his father and the former king. Nothing for him feels bright or fun anymore, which can be seen when not even his two best friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, could infuse him with joy. I also believe this set touches on the idea of madness – of losing one’s mind. Perhaps these barren columns weren’t always so barren. Perhaps they were once filled with paintings and trinkets, but have become empty as these characters have lost sight of themselves. The lights try to fill it, but light is a fickle thing that moves and changes and disappears in an instant.I will say, at first glance I didn’t think much of this set design. To be quite honest, I’m sure I would’ve been one of many doubtful audience members. However, looking into the way that this set ties in with so many thematic elements present in Hamlet, I can only imagine what it would’ve been to see this up on a real stage.
Theatre in London U of A 