Vocal power and ‘the speed of thought’
‘It must not be ponderous; it must run like the speed of thought.’ – Ralph Fiennes, on the speaking of Shakespeare’s text in an interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio.
Vocal power is the primary skill this production focuses on–not facial contortions, or swift leaps and strides, or the spontaneous breaking out into song and dance, or the gasps and ‘ahs’ that naturally make for believable modern drama. No, it is not the ability to shout, because we do not shout when we speak of our darkest fears in private.
As Lucio says, ‘Dark deeds must be darkly answered.’ The sound of the dark is soft, still, almost like silence. Similarly, Shakespeare’s text must proceed like the gradual (Latin rhet. ‘gradatio‘) yet lightning-quick unfolding of a mood–the way poetry works.
The actors work long and hard on their iambic rhythms, the ability to sustain focus in one, long 4-5 line thought–the way a sonnet works–and their breathing.
The power of Shakespeare lies not in the actor’s ability to demonstrate (for that is precisely what good actors avoid–flinging out 20 hints when only 2 are required), but in the clarity of his words when spoken in an enclosure. To do this, the chest must be open, the torso made strong but not stiff, and the solar plexus activated whilst connected to the breath in order to achieve that ‘clean’ voice (as described by vocal coach Melanie Mehta) devoid of a singer’s vibrato, a child’s squeal or a teenager’s croak. I can think of Ralph Fiennes in his recording of Pablo Neruda’s ‘Ode to the Sea,’ Robert Stephens in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie or the beguiling Vanessa Redgrave.
This is why the ensemble is made up of people who specialise in finding nuances in the spoken word and whose voices are heard–and listened to–on radio and television, resounding with gentle persuasion and an almost seductive enchantment that draws you in without warning.