Friday, June 20, 2014

Disguise, thou art a Wickedness... A History of Women in Theatre Part 1 of 3

RESEARCH: Historical & Personal
"Man, [John] Ruskin said, was 'the doer, the creator, the discoverer, the defender. ' By contrast, Woman's intellect 'is not for the invention or creation but for the sweet ordering, arrangement...Her great function is Praise.'"[1]

The Playwright, Historical and Social Context:
During the 19th century and earlier, most female playwrights wrote under a male pseudonym, a practice so widespread it is impossible to calculate how many women writers there actually were.  All plays came under the heavy hand of the Censor in 19th century England.  “Censorship of drama in England began in the sixteenth century as a means of ensuring that no pro-Catholic propaganda crept into scripts, England having officially embraced the Reformation. A secondary purpose was to control the influence of actors, whose morals and religious views generally were suspect. The latter attitude would linger at least through the nineteenth century.”[2]

If the Censor knew that a play was by a woman, his idea of what was acceptable for her to discuss was likely to be so narrow so as to edit the play out of all existence. For most of our history, it has been a counter-cultural act for a woman to express any view publicly.

 Women writer's views were often political. [3]  "Gay Gibson Cima writes: 'Because women playwrights…were at least potentially more publicly exhibited and more closely associated with actresses than their literary counterparts in the novelistic trade, they faced unique challenges.'"[4]

Victorian sensibilities constrained women's expression.  From the corset to the page, an exhaustive social attempt was made to mold women into prescribed roles. Plays that represented women in less than an ideal light, or as active participants in their own destiny were criticized or submerged. "There are many examples of a woman's exposure as a writer for performance being equated with sexual self-exposure.”[5]  Shakespeare was heavily censored.  Less obviously, women playwrights like Emma Robinson, also assumed the illusion of male authorship as a means of receiving honest criticism for their work, desiring neither to be patronized nor unfairly condemned.  “'She is more afraid of her work being defended' because it is by a woman than attacked; 'she wants a fair hearing'”.[6]  

Complex Relationships: Self and Other
A recent study conducted in the US by then economic student Emily Glassberg Sands finds that play texts receive significantly worse ratings in terms of quality, economic prospects and audience response bearing a woman's name than the same play texts marked with a man's name.[7]   These results were drawn exclusively from responses by female artistic directors and literary agents.  Men on the other hand, evaluated the same plays equally, regardless of the perceived gender of the writer.  There are a number of relevant factors that the study did not examine, such as whether women expect more of themselves than they do of men, and whether they hold other women to a higher standard when it comes to the portrayal of women characters (the mirror of the self) in women’s work.  The plays in the pool were four in number, all by women; there were none by men.  

 It is unsurprising to find that women have played a role in their own exclusion, and for diverse reasons.  Take for example my own reaction to hearing that ‘Shakespeare’, may have been written by a woman.

In Sweet Swan of Avon: Did a Woman Write Shakespeare? author Robin P. Williams presents an impressive body of evidence pointing to Mary Sidney Herbert, Countess of Pembroke as author of the Shakespeare plays and sonnets.[8]  The woman who introduced me to this book was my voice teacher at UC Davis, Lisa Porter.  She was often heard to say, “Shakespeare was actually a woman…” rejoining,  “…but that’s another story.”  

While Lisa’s comments peaked my interest, my initial reaction to her words was skepticism. I suspected Lisa of a far-fetched bias, which largely stemmed from my own fear of being seen to be 'unbalanced' or reactionary in my views.  In believing that the writing we ascribe to the actor Shakespeare was written by a woman, would I be likened to the character of the Greek father in the film “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” who believes that every important aspect of modern culture stems from the Greeks?[9]

Robin P. Williams’ book regarding Mary Sidney is factually compelling, but how to contain this earth-shaking secret, were I to give in to belief?[10]   I’d be unable to restrain myself from telling everyone I meet, on the street, at University, in Safeway:  ‘Shakespeare’ was written by a woman!  Would I not ‘halloo’ her ‘name to the reverberate hills and make the babbling gossip of the air cry out’: “No!” in disbelief?[11] Leading them to assume that I am…a feminist? 

In my imagined modern rewrite of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet; the two swap lines about, and adlib, moodily:[12] 
ROMEO:         Art thou not Juliet, and a feminist?
JULIET:          Neither fair saint, if either thee dislike.
ROMEO:         My only love sprung from my only hate.  Tell me thou art not a Feminist!
JULIET:          I know not how to tell thee who I am.  My name, Dear Saint, is hateful to myself because it is an enemy to thee.  Had I it written, I would tear the word.

ROMEO:         (scribbling one word on a piece of paper, he hands it to her) Go on then… 

Enter, The Actress:
“A woman playing a woman? Where's the trick in that?”[13]
Women in England were banned from performing publically for centuries until pleasure-seeking Charles II lifted the ban against women acting.   Performance by women was deemed indecorous, sinful, and immodest.  Did the King, a famed sensualist and connoisseur of the female form, reveal himself to be an early appreciator of pornography by this act?   By all accounts, women who clambered up to tread the boards performed in the glow of the pornographic public gaze.

“Disguise, thou art a wickedness!” [14] In a reversal of fortune, male actors, trained from boyhood in the art of playing women, were now forbidden by the King’s edict to play female roles. Men who specialized in the female role were not asked to share the stage; they were replaced.  Acting became one of the first professions open to women. 

CHARLES II: Why shouldn't we have women on stage? After all, the French have been doing it for years.

SIR EDWARD HYDE: Whenever we're about to do something truly horrible, we always say that the French have been doing it for years.[15]




[1] Julie Hankey, Victorian Portias: Shakespeare's Borderline Heroines (Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 45, No. 4, Winter, 1994) pp.426-448
[2] Frank Northen Magill, The Theatres Act Ends Censorship of English DramaGreat Events from History II: Arts and Culture Series Ed. (Salem Press, Inc. 1993 eNotes.com 12 Sep, 2013)

[3] Susan Croft, The Way to the World: Emma Robinson and the Dilemmas of Identity: Auto/biography and Identity: Women, Theatre and Performance edited by Maggie B. Gale and Viv Gardner (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press 2004)
[4] Ibid., p. 80
[5] Ibid., p. 81
[6] Ibid., p.89
[7] Emily Glassberg Sands, Opening the Curtain on Playwright Gender: An Integrated Economic Analysis of Discrimination in American Theater (Submitted to Princeton University Department of Economics: April 15th, 2009) http://graphics8.nytimes.com/packages/pdf/theater/Openingthecurtain.pdf
[8] Robin P. Williams, Sweet Swan of Avon: Did a Woman Write Shakespeare? (Berkeley, CA: Wilton Circle Press, 2009)
[9] "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" was produced Gold Film Productions, & HBO (among others), 2002, directed by Joel Zwick and written by Nia Vardalos who played a leading role in the film
[10] I’ve since given in
[11] Viola, disguised as the boy Cesario, to the woman Olivia, Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare
[12] Perhaps they are texting
[13] Jeffrey Hatcher, Compleat Female Stage Beauty (New York, NY: Dramatists Play Series Inc., 2006)
[14] Viola, Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare
[15] Ibid.

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