Applying Musical Theatre Phrasing To Shakespeare

Fear not, musical theatre actor;

You are better at Shakespeare than you know.

Do not worry yourself about the rules;

Worry only about being understood.

Let’s see. three lines of 10 syllables, and, oops, 11 syllables on the last line.

Ah well, Shakespeare did that plenty of times, too.

He and his actors had to deliver 20 plays a year with three or four days rehearsal and no director. Surely you can find it in your heart to forgive an extra syllable every one in a while.

“But what about all the rules?” you ask.

It’s difficult to say that there were “rules” 400 years ago. Shakespeare himself signed his name with at least three different spellings. Pretty flexible guy, if you ask me.

While well-meaning folks have excelled at adding tons of rules over the last four centuries, Shakespeare’s ultimate goal was simple. He wanted to be beautifully understood.

Utilizing the evolving form of the day, he gave his actors hints, direction, breaths, timing, etc. to give his plays the best chance for monetary success. He needed to be understood by everybody with a penny to a shilling in their pocket. He made a lot of money. He did not die broke.

For the most part, his use of language is gorgeous, lyrical, melodic, percussive, dynamic, deep – all things we seek in musical theatre.

So try this:

Say this line out loud:

“Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious by this sun of York,

And all the clouds that loured upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”

It’s Richard III. Loured (“frowned”) is one syllable here (try pronouncing like “floured”). Buried is also one syllable – used in other lines, it could be three. The “sun of York” is Edward IV, his brother and the king he seeks to unseat.

Now that you have more information, say it out loud again.

Now say it to a pet, another human close by, or to yourself in a mirror. Make your audience understand these simple four lines.

Now turn those four lines into two.

Now sing the two lines with your own melody (you can do it!) and pay attention to how you changed your initial reading into a song.

Try singing the lines in the style of Sondheim, Webber, Schwartz, R&H, Menken. Make it a ballad. Make it an up-tempo. Sing it like a rock song, a jazz song, a country song, a Kpop song. Play and experiment.

Now go back to saying the lines with the simple intention of being understood.

Removing The Emotional Distance….

Music has some very magical properties. Magic happens in my studio quite a bit, mostly because I push my singers to “remove the emotional distance” between themselves and the song.

We don’t ever want to fake ourselves or our audience out of the real energy that is present in our being. That would not only be inauthentic, but, ultimately, pretty boring.

Of course, we don’t need to be a serial killer barber in real life to pull off the lead in Sweeney Todd on stage, either.

Our job within the context of a song or a musical theatre role is to find the through-line of humanity and spirit, which makes all things “relate-able.” Let the sets, lights and costumes do their part. Let the orchestra do theirs. Let us choose to be the vessel of informed energy, armed with words, pitch and emotion, and, having burned said information into our DNA, let us become full energy in performance; concentrated and free, focused and present.