In a dramatic reading of six scenes from King Lear, Theater of War Productions brought to life a new interpretation of the classic Lit Hum Shakespeare play.

In the intimacy of the Earl Hall auditorium, dramatic voices rang out in various shades of frustration, bewilderment, and loss as Theater of War Productions, in conjunction with Columbia’s Center for the Core Curriculum, Religious Life, and the Undergraduate Community Initiative, presented the King Lear Project. A cast of six acclaimed actors, including Hope Davis (who was in both Asteroid City and Succession) and Daphne Rubin-Vega (known for In the Heights and Only Murders in the Building), performed theatrical readings of six scenes from Shakespeare’s King Lear, which was followed by a short panel and an audience discussion.

Bryan Doerries, Theater of War Productions’ artistic director, spoke a bit about the project and its intent before the readings began. Like Lit Hum, Theater of War uses seminal texts to prompt discussion—but does so not within the comfort of academia, but instead in the more provoking style of theater. The company has performed productions in “military bases, homeless camps, prisons…” Doerries paused jokingly, “and universities.” Their focus is to draw attention to the unexpected, personal, and modern elements which arise when reperforming ancient texts. Doerries was aware many of us in the audience had recently read King Lear in Lit Hum, but he urged us to respond to this production differently: to engage with the text as the spoken, not just as written, word.

The scenes performed—a short sampling which focused purely on Lear and his daughters—emphasized the fragile nature of Lear’s mind, bringing into question his sanity and especially his increasing senility. As the audience listened to Lear (played by David Strathairn) rebuke and scorn his daughters, then turn around and lose his sense of self and worldly awareness, it was hard not to feel pity—not just for him, but also for his caretakers. The selections from the script included none of Regan and Goneril’s cruelties (a lucky stroke for Gloucester). Instead, the two sisters were portrayed as sympathetic, rational characters doing their best to manage an exceedingly tempestuous and unsure father. This framing brought to attention not just the complex familial dynamics of the play, but a new, compassionate reinterpretation of two sisters who are traditionally only construed as villains. 

Before the broader audience discussion, a small panel of students led the way by sharing their own personal resonances with the reading. The speakers were a variety of ages, from a current CC senior to an alumnus of the class of ‘59, which influenced their receptions of the work; some people saw themselves in Lear, others in Regan, Goneril, or Cordelia. Many were deeply moved by the representation of the love, frustration, and grief which arises when trying to take care of an aging parent, sharing that it brought to mind their own difficult experiences doing the same. This openness transitioned naturally into a broader, audience-wide discussion. Doerries asked various questions, though the conversation flowed organically as people listened and responded to various analyses, observations, and personal anecdotes. One Lit Hum professor in the audience shared that the line “sharper than a serpent’s tooth is a thankless child” (King Lear, I. iv) had become an inside joke between him and his daughter—after reading various texts with her as a child, King Lear being among them, he had started to use the phrase in casual instances such as when she refused to get him a glass of water. Another speaker characterized Lear as “a man once, a child twice,” reflecting on the tragic way the play forces Lear’s daughters, especially Cordelia, to “mother” him as he becomes more and more insensate and cruel.  The variety of impressions, responses, and applications of the text that were noted by the audience made the King Lear Project an indubitable success. Even when the two hours were up, the room was still buzzing with conversation, and the text was unmistakably alive–as Doerries put it, “It’s not about how many times you’ve read King Lear; it’s about how many times you’ve lived it.”

Image via Author