SPRING BREAK 2017 "Theatre and theatricality: London and the provinces": Personal Responses to Spring Break trip, "Theatre and Theatricality: London and the Provinces."

ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE: PERSONAL RESPONSES TO SPRING BREAK STUDY ABROAD IN LONDON

The musical Kinky Boots has at its center the theme of self-discovery and self-assertion despite seemingly insurmountable obstacles. This theatrical spectacle was a high point of our trip and of the course: an evening of entertainment and immersion in a world of wonder. More than just theatre arguably at its best, however, the show’s focus on moving outside of one’s comfort zone in an evolving world offers a parallel to the achievement of those who gave up their real spring break to participate in this spectacular adventure, “Theatre & Theatricality: London & the Provinces,” in March 2017.

A course like this involves being in close quarters with (in this case) 10 others for an intense week of culture shock and learning. I am always amazed—and then surprised that I am amazed at—the good humor, generosity, collegiality, and downright smartness of our students: eight graduate and two undergraduate students this time. The first surprise was the cell-like size of the bedrooms in the hotel, ridiculously small even by London standards. Did I miss that in the reviews? Despite jet lag (or jet daze) and having just endured an introduction to the crowds, ubiquitous staircases, and long walkways of the London tube, the students embraced the experience with humor. The dubious pub breakfast, our first meal, met with the same response:“They don’t do boiled eggs? But isn’t that actually easier than poaching them?”.

The week that followed was packed with very long days of theatre-going, immersion in British history, literature, and spectacle, trips to the countryside, seminar-style analyses of the experiences, and philosophical conversation over meals together. Perhaps the most emphatic lesson to emerge was the pedagogical value of such a period of togetherness. I think we all learned as much from each other during this time as from the sights and sites we experienced. Bonds formed that will not only supply resources throughout the graduate student experience but will also enrich the memories made.

Although relatively short-term, these periods of immersion in another culture provide the kind of learning that simply cannot be achieved in the classroom. It is one thing to read Othello or even to view various performances on a screen. It is quite another to experience it in a recreated Restoration theatre with Cassio played as a woman and Katy Perry lyrics helping to achieve the reach-across-the ages appeal of this Shakespearean tragedy. The various layers of history and theatre become palpable. Standing in Shakespeare’s childhood home makes him real, not a mythical writer of pretty good plays. Reading Jane Austen’s accounts of the social performances in the Pump Room at Bath is amusing; standing where she did brings to life the bodies that once stepped there. Participating in these experiences, these pageants, with a group of friends who make jokes and incisive observations is a privilege.

The purpose of this space is to allow the students to speak. I want to record my deep gratitude at sharing this experience with them and my thanks to the support from GSU's English department and Study Abroad office and the College of Arts and Science. Between us, we have literally 1000s of pictures. I want to include here a couple that sum up the week.
TMC

Sharing the Bath waters. Yum.

Needs no caption

Ready for the show

On the road again

The spectacle of the English countryside

Maria's Blog

The Spectacle of Self

Is London the selfie capital of the world? It felt like it, during our whirlwind Theatre of London week, but it’s probably no different than any other major international cosmopolitan city. Or is it? After all, London has a rich history of spectacle, from Aphra Behn’s Emperor of the Moon 1600s statement play on spectacle over substance, to street performers at Covent Garden, in front of the National Gallery and minding the gap at tube stations, to the legendary Madame Tussaud’s – which today is Selfie Central.

At Madame Tussaud’s, you don’t just admire the artistry of the amazingly lifelike wax figures – of everyone from George Clooney to Shakespeare – you pose with them, hug them, smooch them – as if they were real. As if. Everyone was acting as if. Including me. I wanted a selfie with George. I lost count of how many my sweet friend Julie took with her love, Colin Firth. And my amazing friend and professor Dr. Caldwell couldn’t wait to get one with her literary fave, Oscar Wilde.

Selfie Central also featured several spectacles into which you could conveniently – and for a price – insert yourself. You could pose with the royal family for a professional portrait. Solve a mystery with Sherlock Holmes. Strut your stuff down the runway and experience a fashion shoot. It was all about being seen.

Even at the many historic sites , it was about being seen, “Where’s Waldo” style. You didn’t just take a shot of the Roman Baths at Bath – you had to put your back to the baths and get yourself in front of them. Selfie sticks abounded, but arms worked just as well. I didn’t understand this part of selfie-ism: Why do you need to take a picture of yourself in front of every site you visit? Being of nontraditional student age (i.e., old), I asked one of my bright, young classmates, Nicole, to explain. She said: “I can Google a picture of Stonehenge – I don’t need that. I want to show I’ve been there.”

But why, I wondered. You know you’ve been there. Why do you have to show it? Why can’t you just immerse yourself in the moment – sans iphone? It was a relief to do just that, at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where photo-taking was prohibited. The legendary cathedral was crowded with British children in their school uniforms, jostling each other and trying out the amazing Whispering Gallery, where the acoustics allow you to hear conversation yards away like it was within close earshot. I will remember this experience more clearly than if I had photographically recorded it. Not to mention the majesty of the art, the solemnity of the tombs and the grandeur of the architecture. It was refreshing not to dodge selfie sticks and arms thrust forward.

But back to selfies. They fit perfectly with our show-the-world-everything society. It’s why we post exquisitely prepared meals and happy, success-driven milestones on Facebook. It’s why we love reality TV. Why we’re obsessed with the lives of celebrities. Why there’s an uptick in the number of wannabe actors and singers. Why America’s Got Talent/Britain’s Got Talent is so popular.

We want to be seen. We want to be validated. Is this a new phenomenon? I was thinking, yes. But I was wrong. When we visited the Globe Theatre, our knowledgeable tour guide asked us to guess which seats were the most expensive and desirable back in Shakespeare’s day. Many of us thought the seats up front, closest to the stage, would be the best in the house. But no, the seats way up high in the balcony, facing away from the stage, were the hottest tickets. The playgoers couldn’t even see the actors – their backs were to the stage – but they could be seen, in all their finery. Just like today’s selfie takers, with their backs to the scene.

The spectacle of self continues.

Shari & Nicole do Stonehenge

London street sculpture

Selfie ad infinitum

Dr. C. goes Wilde

Bill Walsh’s London Blog

Two things regarding London were of such a remarkable experience that I feel compelled to discuss both, albeit at first glance they do not appear to have a common ground. Yes, both are in London, but it is the idea of survival: The old Roman wall and the Theatre. Taking a touristy sojourn via a double-decker open-air bus (what could be more touristy?) then fish and chips for lunch, I was most taken by a section of the 2000 year old Roman wall and the fact that it has survived. Encircling the city at about a mile in circumference, this is only a small section about twenty feet high, near the Tower of London. Sitting for twenty minutes or so waiting for the bus, I looked at the wall from across the street and imagined at what life would have been like outside of the wall during ancient time, hence I would have been on the outside looking in during the Roman founding of London. I then thought back to the United States and what it must have been like 2000 years ago. Soon, I traveled to Ireland in my mind and to my ancestors. It is an odd proposition to think back with any semblance of comprehension as to what one’s deepest ancestry would have been like so long ago, yet this is where I briefly traveled in my mind. We have only the history books and another’s rendition to help clarify what life was most like during those times. Then I returned back to London and 2000 years ago. I tried to envision needing a wall to keep people out, to protect the land and the resources from invaders. While studying and thinking about Theatre in London, I wondered about Theatre of Rome in London during this time, how different it must have been. Surely there was entertainment inside the wall, as well as traveling actors standing at the gate vying for entrance into the city to present their craft.

The wall I was looking at from across the street was a metaphor for the proverbial Fourth Wall, the rarely discussed division between the actors and the audience that during the early theatre days was broken more so than in current times. And, yet, here

before me was a wall to keep people out and others inside its boundaries. I could have walked over to the wall, touched it, leaned on it, pushed against it, perhaps even climbed it before the police arrived. But I did not. I simply sat on a bench and imagined what I imagined—who built it (probably slaves); the reason it was built; the forest terrain and wild animals that were previously nearby; the guards at the gate ready to kill anyone who did not obey the rules regarding entrance to the city; as well as life in general at that time.

I noticed, primarily while walking around, that London is a lot of streets with sidewalks then close-quartered buildings, block after block, row after row of streets and buildings with little expanding space for the eyes to travel. One’s depth of view, unless standing in the middle of the street and looking downward, is limited to about fifty feet in most directions. It is very claustrophobic because everywhere a person looks there is a manufactured wall (a building). This was even more so in the Brick Lane District where the older manufacturing buildings are closer to the street. Although the Roman wall exists only in sections, there were walls nearly everywhere I turned.

Throughout the trip, I also noticed the actors in the street, those brave enough to try their hand at street-performances for money. All were good. Most were musicians. There was a comic magician. One man sat in a van with the side door open playing the drums. A few street performers were in character for Shakespeare or as Romans in Bath.

Some were homeless, as I discovered when talking to them. The best was Poet for Hire, where given a title, they will type a poem for you on an old manual typewriter. Upon completion (a few minutes later), you pay the amount you deemed worthy. I gave one poet the title to my last book, Lost in the White Ruins, and away he went typing. They were knowledgeable poets because they knew the title was from James Wrights’ poetry. This impressed me. When done, I paid ₤5 for my poem. I had hired a poet!

As I watched the street performers, usually for just a minute or so, I thought back to the 16^th and 17^th Centuries when people did the same thing—hit the streets to earn a living. They were looking for work, in need of money, hoping to be discovered, and the only commodity they had available was time so why not make a few bucks, maybe enough to survive until the next acting job was had, maybe make enough money to visit a pub for a pint and a meal.

Later one evening, we were back to theatre district to watch a production of Kinky Boots. The theatre is always an industry wrought with certain demise from generation to generation, and yet, somehow it survives, as did London’s theatre industry dating back to Charles I losing his head and then Charles II re-establishing theatre in London twelve years later. It did not take much imagination to dissolve the taxis and buses from 21^st Century London and replace them in my mind with horses and carriages clacking in the cobblestone streets. The play, a musical, may be the finest and most enjoyable I have ever seen—simply a wonderful production. The sold-out show is a testimony to the theatre’s survival. I’m not a theatre critic so there is no review of the play beyond a valid thumbs-ups; however, the consensus among the group was “brilliant.” Whether in London or at a local town, the theatre will survive, as did London with its Roman wall. If you have the opportunity, you must see Kinky Boots. As well, when you have the chance, you must see London by bus, if just for the relaxing cruise around the city with a witty tour guide, a performer entertaining hundreds per day with witty quips about the city and its people, present and past. Here there is time to ponder the bygone days, to glide along at whatever pace your mind chooses, and to find the London of yore tucked into nearly everything contemporary. The old survives as has the city and the theatre for centuries.

Shari's Response:

Reading fiction has allowed many of us to see the world through our mind’s eye; authors bring to life for us significant components from various cultures and invite us into the most intimate moments of their characters’ lives. Before visiting London, my ideas about what England is really like and the how the characters I read about lived & existed in a liminal space between the information I’ve read and imagining how reality truly exists. My London experiences provided for me a concrete, tangible complement to the fantastical perspective I created based on what literature I’ve encountered; it also complicated an already complex boundary between reality and fiction.
Figure 1: Buckingham Palace

Figure 2: Buckingham Palace, Front Entrance

The centuries-old home of English kings and queens was the first place I visited in London, and seeing the palace in all its majesty brought to life the decades of excitement I felt about what it must be like to be a princess and live like royalty. Adding to my excitement was the rush of thousands of other people taking in the moment with me; I imagined that we were all outside the palace waiting to hear word from the monarch about some important piece of news (300 years ago, of course, I’m sure security was nowhere near as strict as it is now). The palace was surrounded by tourists and gardens, and it was buzzing with activity. What I appreciated most about visiting Buckingham Palace was briefly walking through Hyde Park across the street and blending in with London’s citizens; I felt an uncomfortable familiarity with seeing couples having lunch, families strolling around with their young children, teens playing music and laughing about nothing. While that moment reminded me of many days I’ve spent in Piedmont Park at the center of the same types of activities, I was very aware of myself as an outsider: I felt intrusive and a bit voyeuristic. However, it was the discomfort that reminded me of the vulnerability inherent in the collapse of the familiar, and I embraced the emotions for the sake of anticipated discoveries. That day set the tone for what would continue to be an exploration of the intersection between the imagined and the actual.

Figure 3: Madame Tussauds Wax Museum

Who doesn’t hope to one day meet every famous historical figure, pop culture icon, or superhero relevant from times past to now? Madame Tussauds presents that opportunity, and though the image above features my favorite celebrity encounters, the list of once-in-a-lifetime meetings is innumerable: Morgan Freeman, Rihanna, Alfred Hitchcock, The Queen Mother, Picasso, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Amy Winehouse, Bob Marley, Nelson Mandela, and Darth Vader were ready for the chaos! Even members of the Kardashian Klan were available to meet and greet anxious fans (“Kimye” West and Kendall Jenner specifically). There’s no way I could ever take a selfie with William Shakespeare, Michael Jackson, or Captain Nick Fury: but I did. And it happened in real life… and who’s to tell me it wasn’t real? Did I know these “people” were wax statues? Absolutely. Did I care? Not one bit. The figures are made to look real, which encourages this blending of falsehood and truth. Madame Tussauds Wax Museum is the place where fantasy and reality coalesce so effortlessly that the line between the two becomes nonexistent. Born during the late eighteenth-century in France, Marie Grosholtz (m. Tussaud, 1795) is the madam behind the spectacle that is the international wax museum Madame Tussauds. Her sculpting took her to England at the most opportune time (she was awaiting execution for a while during the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars kept her out of France), and she rose to fame during the nineteenth century. Madame Tussaud’s work featured, like today’s museum, (in)famous politicians, artists, murders, and other figures relevant during the time on display for the public. Another site we visited included wax figures; they served a different, but equally significant purpose, making them more relevant to my journey through English “realities.”

Figure 4: Warwick Castle

Figure 5: Views Atop Warwick Castle

Figure 6: Warwick Castle

Juxtaposed against the museum’s reflection of Madame Tussaud’s wax sculpting was the wax figures placed throughout Warwick Castle. We had already been through Windsor Castle by the time we visited this one, and the difference in the energy here was evident as soon as we learned photos were permitted inside the castle. I can only imagine that because Windsor Castle is currently inhabited, wax statues would get in the way of the castle’s day-to-day functions. At Warwick Castle, though, the wax figures helped bring to life what most likely would have been the normal happenings for a royal family. The photos above show in the top left corner guests chatting together in front of a fireplace (not pictured) in the castle’s library, and the servants (top right, bottom left and right) are in a drawing room, bathroom and bedroom preparing these rooms for whomever would have been at the castle. The excitement at Madame Tussauds was absent from Warwick Castle, and this missing element made the wax figures even more believable: a few times, I had mistaken the wax people for current castle employees and spoke to them briefly. They, of course, never said a word! I felt more afraid of these wax figures, too. I knew they weren’t real, but seeing them posed in different positions attending to the castle’s duties made them seem more lifelike. I felt as though my imagination had manifest, and what I always pictured as the working structure of a castle was right in front of me... Speaking of imagination, my most valued experience includes a translation of my mind’s imaginings made manifest throughout England.

Figure 7: King's Cross Station, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II

Figure 8: Harry Potter Around England; Oxford, Millennium Bridge, King's Cross Station, Brick Lane Phone Booth

Harry James Potter, arguably one of contemporary literature’s most famous protagonist, embodies so many features important to fiction and literature. His story is the ultimate hero’s journey, reminiscent of Joseph Campbell’s monomythical structure, and his creator shared her most intimate ideas of an alternative universe within a reality modeled after London’s reality. The complexity of Harry Potter’s narrative overlaps with its incessant vacillation between reality for one group of people and reality for another. Prior to this trip, I had only hoped to one day visit some of the sites where Harry, Ron, Hermoine fought to safe muggles, wizards, and witches from Tom Riddle and dark magic. The collage above shows a few important locations featured in the books and movies, and I even had some time at Platform 9 ¾! I was practically on my way to Hogwarts! Reality couldn’t have been more unstable than the moment I saw the cart hanging halfway out the wall, and although (again) I knew it wasn’t real, it felt more real than any time I’ve read the books or watched the movies. Even wearing the Gryffindor scarf made me feel like I was part of Rowling’s made up universe! What I brought back from London, along with too many souvenirs and swollen feet, is a new appreciation for broken binaries and blurred lines. One of my favorite quotes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 comes from former Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore (Figure 7). While in yet another alternative universe, Harry and Dumbledore have a conversation about the reality of their current circumstance. Harry asks, “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?” Dumbledore responds by saying, “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” What we imagine can be real, and based on my visit through London (and surrounding areas), I learned that many things that have been happening inside my own head are, in fact, very real, and they’re available for many people to experience.

Leslie's Response:

The night in the pub that we celebrated Bill's contract from a bona fide publisher for a book of his poetry (thank you for the drink, Bill), Shari described an interactive audience experience she had had at Covent Garden. At the conclusion of a performance by a street performer, the performer told the audience why he likes performing live, how he likes the face-to-face with the audience, the interaction between himself and his audience without the digital barrier or veil. Real time. At least that is what I took from what she was saying.

Her comments prompted me to think about audience-performer interaction as Dr. Caldwell has discussed in the orientation for this trip. While audiences seem to be less "active" than they were in Samuel Pepys time, in that they generally are not gossiping, necessarily eating, socializing or even engaging in sexual activity during the performance, they are having a unique experience with the performers onstage that seemingly can only be obtained in a live performance. Otherwise, would not live performance have, if not gone away, certainly have taken a way back seat to this art? Wouldn't the digital be the medium of all theatre and other experiences because of its ease of access and the comfort in which the audience of one or of many experience it? It was raining in Covent Garden. The audience could have been dry or warm or cool or sitting in a comfortable chair or lying on the sofa if experiencing the street performer digitally instead of live.

The digital medium does not seem to have diminished the desire or need for the audience-performer interaction but instead offer another option.

A few months ago, I saw a FILMED LIVE performance of 'Hamlet' at England's Royal National Theatre with Benedict Cumberbatch as Hamlet. Fantastic as it was to see all of those talented performers I now think about the difference it would have made seeing it live (including the thrill of being in the same live space as Cumberbatch). Undoubtedly, seeing live not only Cumberbatch but also Anastasia Hille as Gertrude and Ciarian Hinds as Claudius would have been a different experience, focusing my attention more on the individual performers and less on the overall effect of the production itself, including the somewhat weird scenery and the interpretation of Sian Brooke's Ophelia, which might have been more irritating (to me) in the live than it was in the digital where I could somewhat deflect my irritation.

The digital veil closes off the option or idea of creating a spectacle within the audience partly because watching in the digital medium is a solitary act even if you are watching with others, that is, if you are even watching. As in the 17th century Restoration theatre, you can eat oranges, gossip with your fellow "audience" members, ogle some of them, even have sex but the actors of the production you are allegedly watching will not compete for your attention as they did during that earlier era. They cannot actively respond because the digital veil closes off that option for both performers and audience.

Twenty-first century audiences are seemingly not as actively focused on themselves and their presentation to others as they were in the 17th century. Yet, theatre in the 21st century pays heed to keeping the audience's attention. "Kinky Boots" featured a seductive high energy with vibrant song and dance numbers accentuated by clever costuming. The spectacular aspects of "Lola" and her "girls", the way they dressed and were made up, the way she spoke, the way they danced, the way she sang made them much more sympathetic and drew the audience to them much more than the factory workers with their quotidian dress and style even though they were likable. They just weren't providers of escape, of glamour. Even in the off-the-books performance of "Wicked," which some of us attended, you could not take your eyes off the sparkle. It was ubiquitous throughout all aspects of the performance. And "Othello" reached out to the audience with contemporary songs and the angle of same-sex love.

This aspect on the interaction between theatre and audience has now become part of my future theatre-going experiences because this trip has implanted the awareness of it. So from now on, I will BOLO for what the production and performers are doing and how the audience, including me, is responding to that.

AND THEN:

As I was driving to work on Wednesday, I was thinking about "Othello" that we saw at the Globe last Thursday. [Doesn't everyone think about that while driving to work?!]

It was thrilling to be at the Globe Theatre or Shakespeare's Globe as it is also known, knowing the history of Sam Wanamaker's quest to reconstruct it. The aspects designed to authenticate the original Globe such as the open-air main stage, the thatched "roof," provide an experience that 21st century theatre buildings do not. The chandeliers and the way they were employed not only for lighting but for effect in the production were mesmerizing; I could not take my eyes off of them. Whenever they moved, I leaned over.

To get to my point, I did not agree with the director's interpretation of Shakespeare's classic. While Ellen McDougall has the right to interpret "Othello" any way she wants and has certainly more street cred than I do when it comes to theatre and interpretation, I felt that some of her points were not supported.

In the article Maria sent around, McDougall says several times that the play is about prejudice and hate and identity construction. However, I go with the traditional interpretation of "Othello" that the play is about unbridled ambition and its unleashing of the power of human flaws that are fatal to the main characters.

And Shakespeare constructs the identity of his characters definitively. His women characters are victims (Desdemona, Ophelia, Lady Anne) or villains (Lady Macbeth). The one thing they all have in common is they are destined to die.

• The traditional Desdemona is passive and subservient. But this Desdemona was almost irritatingly forward with her persistent insistence in making the case for Cassio to Othello. Why was Desdemona so hot to do this? What was in it for her?
In "Macbeth," Lady Macbeth pushes and prods her husband to kill Duncan because Lady Macbeth will become queen, so she plots. Thus, her motivation is understandable. But Desdemona does not have anything obvious to gain from Cassio's ascent. And this lack of obvious motive could lead to an interpretation that maybe Iago was right; maybe she did want Cassio sexually.

I felt that McDougall did not establish this motivation.

• I also felt that Iago's motives were just as vague. Traditionally, he wants to topple Othello from his superior rank. Iago feels that he should be the one to hold Othello's position and he is so enraged over the perceived unfairness of his position vis-a-vis Othello's that he uses Othello's ethnicity, Othello's love for Desdemona, which is buffeted by the prevailing prejudices of the society, as weapons against him.

In McDougall's version, I wasn't sure what Iago's motivation was — if he was in love with Desdemona or jealous of Othello for winning her or if he was being the equivalent of a "Mean Girl". His professional jealousy towards Othello, if it existed in this interpretation, was not established.

• Speaking of women, having Cassio as a woman was a big leap in interpreting Shakespeare — not because of Cassio's sexuality but because no one in the play questioned Cassio's competence or her right to her position in the hierarchy. Considering Shakespeare's approach to his women characters, that seems very unlikely because that questioning certainly would have happened in the 15th century as it does today in the 21st.

Does all of this mean that the play was not enjoyable? Not at all. An opportunity to see a performance of a Shakespeare play — particularly one of his Big Three tragedies "Hamlet," "Macbeth" and "Othello" — especially in the setting of theatre reconstructed from his era is a joy and a privilege and McDougall's version was all that.

Nicole's Response:

As a student who primarily focuses in 20^th century literature, the idea of being forced to enroll in so many courses that completely deviate from my desired focus has always been frustrating. When presented with the opportunity to take this course abroad, my immediate response was, “yes! I can fill those requirements that I have been dreading!” I knew I would learn a lot from the experience, and I even anticipated it would be more impactful than a semester long study in a classroom. However, I could not have dreamed that I would become so impacted by a course—let alone one that filled that pre-1800’s requirement.

Put simply, I had never encountered literature from the restoration period—at least, consciously. This trip has showed me, though, that I have encountered the implications of this period more than I could have ever dreamed, in both my studies and personal time. Covet Garden epitomized this realization. Much of what I encountered resembled things I had seen before: street magicians, costumed performers, etc. I had never known where this practice came from. By the time we made it to Kinky Boots, I found myself desperate for a pen and paper; I needed to take notes, write the things down that I was seeing, because everything resembled the things we had been learning in class. The same thing goes for Wicked. On this trip I began to realize that this period was the beginning of the culture that exists today, as well as asked questions that we are still struggling to answer.

I had so many wonderful conversations with our trip’s group members about how our use of reality versus fiction applies to our current moment. Part of this was epitomized in my own social media account while away. I had so many comments from friends and family saying that, from the photos I posted, it appeared like I was having the time of my life. While this is completely true (the best time ever!), those photos were hand picked to tell a story about my trip. The lighting had to be ideal, everyone posing for the photo had be looking the same direction, etc. Those pictures didn’t see the jetlag of day 1, or the swollen feet by the final night. I was able to construct a reality on my own social media page about the trip that told the story I wanted to be told.

How this period has influenced the 21^st century really came to life at Madame Tussauds. My favorite moment was coming across Kim Kardashian and Kanye West’s wax figures. I watch these people on television and listen to their music every day, and while the Shakespeare and Dickins figures excited my “intellectual” side, these pop culture figures made were nevertheless a highlight for this millennial! Being able to reach up to the phone that she was holding to take a selfie broke the line between imaginary and reality. This experience also reminded me of the inception of celebrity actor/actress. For hundreds of years, playgoers consumed theatre. However, this period, people got excited about the actual people performing. All of a sudden, it is their lives that become interesting. I couldn’t help but make that connection when looking at Kim Kardashian, especially when I walked through the gift shop and saw her self-made selfie-book for sale on the shelves. It may be a stretch, but the way Nell Gwynne showed upward mobility through the classes for the public to see seems relevant here. Are the Kardashians the modern version of this, with their sex tapes and reality television shows?

But my example of Kim Kardashian (or, erhm, rather her wax figure) and my social media posts brings me back to my point of unanswered questions: what is real? what is fake? I quickly realized that much of what we saw in London was a recreation, and those were the aspects I found myself turned off by. I was underwhelmed by Shakespeare’s Globe after learning that it wasn’t the actual historic theatre, and I was even more disappointed to learn that we have no real idea of what the Globe looked like, so this 1990’s Globe is a collection of ideas of what it may have looked like. Similarly, Warwick castle lacked the genuine feel I had anticipated. It was littered with wax figures and voice overs that interrupted my own imagination of what existed then. While I was fascinated by the beauty of Winsor Castle, I was keenly aware that these are hallways built and maintained for tourists and are not the quarters through which royalty walks through when vacationing. This raised even more questions: what, then, did I enjoy? What did I initially consider “real,” and, in turn, enjoyed more? Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Stonehenge, all come to mind. But these attractions don’t get to the heart of London. I realized that I am searching for this idea of real that may not even exist.

Perhaps this is why one of my favorite aspects of this trip was Othello. This performance acknowledged that these conflicting ideas exist. Lana Del Ray songs and cellphone camera flashes interrupted a theatre that did not even use lightbulbs for light. This play embraced modernity and embraced the fact that it is not the 18^th century anymore. We cannot force an interaction with a time that does not exist any longer. A candlelit theatre can set the mood, but we are already distracted by the fact that it is candlelit, rather than with electricity, and the simple knowledge that there is something other than candles that can light a room is already distracting us. Further, intermission allows us to exit our seats and use indoor plumbing and purchase beverages from a bar (and even use ApplePay from our phones!).

We can’t relive the 18^th century, or any period. We can peak into their world for moments, but it out of reach for us to completely resubmerge ourselves in. Instead, we can mingle with it, in places where its impression was so strong that it has changed the place. Covet Garden was forever changed by the fun and excitement that occurred there in the 18^th century, likely inspiring the magic and surprise that is found there now. And, if Chanel and Mac Cosmetics existed in the 18^th century, I’d imagine those there gossiping and chatting away would find themselves in those shops. So, as everyone who was on this trip knows, I of course entered these shops—and maybe that is how I got connected with the London spirit, after all

Myriem's Blog:

Spring Break Study Abroad: The London Experience

Generally speaking, when students and professors hear the words “spring break”, few things come to mind— sleep, relaxation, fun, and perhaps if they’re lucky, all of the above on a sunny beach. Nonetheless, the real lucky ones such as me and the rest of this amazing group got to experience something beyond words: spring break in London. This one of a kind trip has been a tremendous experience that opened my mind and touched my soul, and for that I will forever be grateful.

Despite my rocky and late head start, I knew that this spring break would be just what the doctor ordered— the discovery of a fabulous city along amazing new friends, all orchestrated by a very diligent professor. From the snazzy Brick Lane street to the fancy Windsor Castle (and everything else in between), London’s charm is captivating in such a way that no matter what the discovery of the day was, it left you wanting to know more. Thanks to a cleverly crafted jam-packed schedule, we were lucky to get exposed to the newer London sites (in comparison to the ones from other epochs) such as Covent Gardens, Madame Tussauds museum, to name but a few, but also to the oh so charming and very ancient little town of Bath, and the ever green land of Stratford-Upon-Avon. The endless hours spent on the bus tours, in addition to walking aimlessly around castles and tiny streets made me think over and over about what one of our tour guides said: ‘London is a gigantic construction site’.

From old monuments to the latest extravagant ones, London’s brilliant restoration’s plan has amazed me in more ways that I initially thought— in order to stay true to its history while preserving some of its few centuries old buildings, London officials (and I’m suspecting that the Queen may have had a say in it :) decided to update or maintain its infrastructure from the inside out. Crucial things such as plumbing, electricity and carpentry for example, would be totally renewed from within the site, without a single threat to damaging the façade of those ancient and magnificent structures. The more I walked, hiked and discovered about London, the more humble I became—no matter how fancy, rich or expensive London is, its sense of integrity and attachment to the past is what I think makes it one of the greatest cities in the world. Additionally, as we were touring London center and passing some of the most sought-after neighborhoods, it dawned on me that what mattered most to Londoners is their history, since they rather preserve what they already have than rebuild on what is considered one the most expensive land per square foot (think few millions of pounds for a “flat” [yikes!] according to the tour guide).

As the trip was coming to its end, I knew for a fact what the cliché “You have to see it to believe it” sentence actually meant; as there are no words or lectures that can remotely relate to such an amazing experience like the one I was part of during this spring break. In addition to the knowledge acquired and the rekindling of passion for British Literature, nothing truly compares to learning and taking it all in as a group. The complicity and camaraderie developed during this trip is what made us immerse ourselves deeply in the culture; and listening, discussing and sometimes even debating so many topics during such little time was the highlight of every dinner conversation. While there’s no doubt that the study of Shakespeare is a fascinating subject in itself, and that most of us will sign up for it in a heartbeat, it however cannot equate to reading, learning and watching Shakespeare plays while you stroll around his birthplace, including his home. Thus, for that experience alone, I will always be thankful.

Stonehenge (can you tell I’m freezing?!)

City of Bath (Can you spot the celebrity professor?!)

Home of the One and Only— Sir William Shakespeare

Donna's Blog

There is much more to travel than tourism or even edification. “Experience,” that elusive thing that most of us would likely agree is a prime motivator of modern-day travel, is hard to define or capture in the medium of a blog, but it is undeniable that our recent trip to London provided at least one new “experience” for each of us.

For me, there were many such experiences, but riding MARTA to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport was the first. Until this trip, a parent or roommate or boyfriend had always taken me by car to the airport, but this time I’m more familiar with MARTA and purposefully live right on the Red line. I know what you’re thinking—probably something along the lines of: “Who cares how you got to the airport—that’s not even London yet!” Well, something that really hit home for me both when I journeyed to London for the first time in 2008 and during this recent trip was the vast disparity in the attitudes, values, and motivations of our two cities when it comes to transportation and community spaces in general. (I could almost say “the disparity between our nations,” but Atlanta isn’t representative of the entire U.S. in this regard—just a significant portion of it.)

“Poems on the Underground” – I wonder if I’ll ever see something like this on MARTA…

I’m sure this sounds cliché at this point, but Atlanta simply is not a livable city for anyone without a car or for anyone who does not or cannot drive. London, on the other hand, and even its surrounding “provinces,” has put livability and sustainability at the heart of its city planning, seemingly for hundreds of years. While of course there are cities that are more “designed,” more regular in their layouts and more uniform in their architectures, the U.K. has put a great deal of effort into making an experience like going to the airport and back relatively affordable and convenient for most everyone. You can walk a few blocks in London, and you are bound to find at least one form of public transit that will get you where you want to go. Just plug in where you’re going to Google Maps and follow the instructions and you’re off (a role I relished during our trip, by the way).

Finding our hotel that first day: not an easy task, despite the many public transit options.

To some extent, the same is true for Atlanta, especially if you have a car, but when you stray from MARTA’s Red, Gold, Blue, and Green lines, the four of which form a kind of inverted holy cross (appropriate!), you add at least an hour of commute. In London, tourists like us could get from Victoria Station to Brick Lane in minutes, with just a few stops and changeovers in between. There is a systemic commitment to public transit, and I couldn’t shake my deep envy of those conveniences.

Getting off the Heathrow Express at Piccadilly Station.

Where have we diverged, I wonder, and what does that say about we Atlantans and about Londoners and other Brits? Do we have different commitments to sustainability and environmental issues? Is it a product of the sheer size of our city and country at large? Is the U.K. simply a wealthier nation than us, with more cash to spend on infrastructure?

The American political divide at Madame Tussaud’s.

These questions take us in several different directions, but I will stick to one with which I am passably familiar: literature and culture. After all, we can probably agree that a population’s attitudes and history play into whether its cities develop strong public infrastructures, including not only public transit but also parks and public entertainment centers (both of which London also has more fully developed). This is where the academic portion of our trip informs my take on the disparity in public transit systems: from early in British literary history, as one component of the nation’s culture, community has been at the heart. This value and its practice has waxed and waned at times, but public performance has a long tradition in London, with its arguable apotheosis occurring in the Early Modern public theatres. This is not to say that the Southeastern United States did not also have community ties and practices – but our relatively shorter history and our deliberate break from English and European value systems has certainly led us to resist this type of cultural expression. America’s most famous writers, for instance, have almost always been poets and novelists, whereas great American playwrights have only been recognized during the past century. Americans read and experience literature by themselves, by and large, throughout our history. During our school years, Americans may come together to analyze or learn about a novel or poem or sometimes a Greek tragedy or Shakespearean comedy, but this is hardly the same as passing down a culture of public performance.

A selfie with the Bard at Madame Tussaud’s.

Our trip to Shakespeare’s Globe and the associated tour put some of this into perspective for me. Among many other fascinating things, our guide explained that people would travel out of the more Puritanical northern bank of the Thames to the southern bank, where the Globe, the Swan, the Rose, and several other (in)famous theatres were located. They traveled by foot, by horse, or by cart (the latter of which could probably be considered an early form of public transit). While there, they were gathered into an intimate theatre-in-the-round with a sea of faces standing in the yard as well as peering out from the stands. This tradition continued through in one form another in the English theatrical tradition, save a few years of Puritan hegemony.

Our tour guide at the Globe Theatre (with the stage set for Taming of the Shrew).

Our guide, giving us a taste of this history, reminded us that history goes back much farther than our founding as a nation, as much as we’d like to see that as a point of genesis instead of continuation and divergence. That we did not establish a similar theatrical tradition in the States is one reason why so many of us look to Shakespeare, Marlowe, Johnson, Dryden, etc, etc, rather than Americans. And I believe this ambivalence about our cultural identity as Americans is one reason why we have been so reluctant to let go of our automobile industry and culture—and the pieces fall into place from there. We relish in our individual freedoms, our wide, open space, our ingenuity… and all of this is found in spades around Atlanta’s car culture even today.

You’re probably saying to yourself that, surely, our differing attitudes toward art and consuming literature are merely correlative, not causative. But I would argue that they have very similar roots. Think of the deep connection between America’s car and motorcycle culture and the literary movements of the early 20^th century. What would Gatsby be without the automobile? On the Road? Even newer depictions of the period like Mad Men show an America enamored of passenger vehicles and the convenience afforded therein. There’s a greater research paper to be done on this comparison, surely, but for our purposes, it is enough to see that London’s development of carriage transport and later buses and subways differs a great deal from the general American attitude toward transportation. It’s an experience and a rite of passage to drive a car in our nation. Taking a bus is what you do when you lose your license or cannot afford car insurance payments.

Maria, on an open-top bus tour, at Parliament Street.

I’m certainly not arguing that we saw no evidence of social and economic stratification in London – there were certainly great disparities in these realms. But what most Londoners seemed to agree on is that their history, including both their literary history as well as their architectural history, is worth preserving in some fashion. Is this preservationist instinct, paradoxically, what has allowed London to develop their transit system into what it is today? The prediction that a car culture like that of America would move Brits farther apart and encourage insularity and discourage community-mindedness?

Scaffolding was a common sight, presumably as work is done to preserve the original look of these buildings; here, Nicole & Shari’s reflections in the bus window as we arrive in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

My envy of the London transportation system—and corresponding dissatisfaction with MARTA—didn’t leave my mind for one day during Spring Break 2017.

Ebony's Blog:

During our trip, we visited two castles: Windsor Castle and Warwick Castle. Windsor Castle is the weekend home of the Queen and therefore still a private residence. Warwick Castle is now owned by Madame Tussauds, which owns the famed wax museums around the world. Several of my classmates discuss our experience of the visiting the London museum in their blogs. My focus is the impressions left by the castles.

One the first things that stood out to me from Windsor Castle was the wristband. After a lifetime of plastic and paper bands to enter various clubs, attractions, and venues, this is one of the few I will keep. Not just as a token on of my trip, but the aesthetics. The band (pictured below) was a deep rich purple fabric. Windsor Castle is printed in elegant black letters. Purple of course is commonly associated with royalty and wealth. White lettering would have made it youthful or perhaps even juvenile so the black lettering is no surprise. These bands are clasped to every wrist who enter the grounds and evoke timeless elegance. This becomes the standard by which to view the way things are done. Luxury is already being normalized.

The rooms were beautiful: exquisite antiques, good inlay, rich fabrics, and walls of carved wood. There were also tall walls of white males long dead staring at me. Looking down on me. In one section of the castle, they displayed the china sets created for each new coronation. The curator for this exhibit spoke on an audio recording. He provided several interesting stories about his favorite sets. He spoke whimsically about one set that was full of the rich detail of the pineapples as well as other fruit and objects meant to reference with the Caribbean. However, for me it evoked a more solemn feeling of the long impact of colonialism.

In the introduction to The Routledge Reader in Caribbean Literature, editors Alison Donnell and Sarah Lawson Welsh point to the effect of the colonial institutions. In colonial schools in the West Indies, students are taught the Wordsworth’s famous poem “Daffodils.” How can a poem about a flower be problematic? There are no daffodils native to the islands of these West Indies schools. Despite all the natural beauty that can be found on their islands, the standard for beauty comes from another place the students have never been and using a flower that does not grow naturally where they are. Their homes and standard of beauty are “othered.” Therefore, how can piece of china be problematic? We do not see the othering—or at least it is not acknowledged by the curator. There is no acknowledgment of people and the exploited labor that helped make the china set possible and the Empire wealthy. There is only a pineapple on priceless china to show the wealth and diversity of the Empire.

It made me think of the lens through which royalty must see the world. How do you see the masses when this is normalized? But I was even more concerned about the masses who visit. How does it affect the masses to view this? You cannot take pictures inside of Windsor Castle. I understand the practical reasons for not allowing photography, such as security, privacy, and the long term damage of flash photography on delicate materials. However, what does it say to the masses that you can only look? And only can you not touch, you cannot even record. You only have your memories. That is what you keep for yourself and pass on to others. A description of the spectacle. A description of the beauty. Increasing the mystery and the distance from the masses. My pictures are on the outside. I am an on the outside.

Warwick Castle was more approachable. You could touch things. You could move through the rooms. You were made to be a part of the experience. Is this influence of the modern tourists and their need to be a part of the experience? The need to not only see the spectacle but imagine yourself in it.

Several rooms were set up as scenes with wax figures. Conversations were taking place in each. Conversations that I would describe as naughty. The lady of the house mocking the reputation of another woman. Men in the study discussing the importance of having an heir and a spare. A maid being chastised by the butler for not knowing her place, but the maid holds her own in the argument. The historical details were displayed in plaques in the room. But the attractions were the people and the lives they lived in these rooms. I was able to be part of the experience.

Only a few rooms were roped off. And even then you could get close, close enough to overhear the conversations. You were able to spy and be a part of the secret. Most the rooms you could walk though; in some cases (such as the maid and butler), you could around them as they talked since they stood near the center of the room. There was also more freedom to walk the grounds. Three of us strolled by the water for quite a while without a security guard in sight. I was able to process and imagine this as someone’s home—because I had the time and space to feel at home.

In both castles, I had a chance to experience beauty and elegance. However, for Warwick, I feel more desire to return. At Windsor, I felt like an accepted visitor. While at Warwick, I felt like an invited guest that is welcomed to return.