Venango Christian High School - Saga Yearbook (Oil City, PA)

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Shakespeare Goes Modern The Shakespearean play, Hamlet, is a classic; that is, it has a universal theme, and centuries have not caused its appeal and worth to be lost and for- gotten. It has been reproduced many times and is presently popular on Broad- way in New York City. This is John Gielgud’s production of Hamlet, starring Richard Burton as Hamlet. It is one ot high quality in the dramatic field and entertainment. It achieves this quality by the effectiveness of the scenery, costumes and character portrayal and the functional relationship between them. The scenery and props used are extremely simple and plain and used for a definite purpose. It imitates the Elizabethan theaters of Shakespeare s time where elaborate scenery was not to be had. But beyond this, it functions as a maintainer of the audience’s interest and attention upon the plot and the char- acters and by making the play’ s universal theme of revenge and the restless mood more noticeably by the contrast of the dullness of the setting. Simplicity is maintained in the cos- tumes of Gielgud’s production of Hamlet as it was in the scenery. A contemporary touch is also add- ed to this Elizabethan play by the use of current styled clothing. This helps overcome some of the aesthe- tic distance of the audience from feeling, emotions and thoughts of the characters by bringing them closer to present day standards. ALTHOUGH the costumes are simple and current, each has a spec- ific function. Hamlet was clothed entirely in black, having only his face and hands uncovered. This effect focused the viewers’ concen- tration on these features of the head, where one could see the raging passion of revenge for his father’s murder, and the hands with which Hamlet killed Laertes and Claudius. The color mirrored the darkness of his soul and his mood. Claudius’ dress depicted his playboy personality and actions by a loose, light-colored sweater with patched elbows, not usually worn by men of his age, and most unlike a king. This symbolized the unwhole- some relationship with the wife of his brother, the king, and the result- ing murder of the king’s brother. Polonius, Lord Chamberlain, wore attire suitable for a dignitary, as he was to be portrayed. His white beard, cane and cravat character- ized him as a wise and sophisticated old man. LAERTES DEPICTS the vital- ity of youth by his very casual, light colored apparel, while Ophelia is presented as a picture of youth, beauty and innocence by her long, flowing hair and carefree style of dress, in contrast to the queen’s short-curled hair and train showing dignity and experience. The quality and talent of the actors and actresses in a cast can either make a play a success or not, even though the material presented is excellent. In John Gielgud’s pro- duction of Hamlet, the presentation was excellent. He enabled the view- er to experience emotionally what he observed. He showed the wrath of revenge and partial madness as a result, but he also maintained the idea of his symbolizing man by not becoming too aloof from reality. An example of this is the famous ex- cerpt from Act III, Scene I, starting with the line, ' To be, or not to be: that is the question...” Many actors have presented these lines with maj- esty in a booming voice. Burton in- terprets them with thoughtfulness and in a soft tone of voice, making the listener meditate along with him. He also showed his ability to portray revenge and anger. An example of this is the scene with his mother in her closet, when he scolds the queen for her wretchedness and disloyalty to her former husband, the king. Sit you down and let me wring your heart: for so I shall if it be of pene- trable stuff.. ' CLAUDIUS AND the queen could have been portrayed better be- cause their wickedness was not as noticeable as it should have been. Polonius was presented very well, for his gestures, tone and walk all depicted that of a dignified, wise old man with wit. This is shown es- pecially well in the scene in which he is advising the king and queen about the cause of Hamlet's madness. Laertes was portrayed well. He showed the parallel between the re- venge of Hamlet against Claudius and his revenge against Hamlet, both caused by the murder of their fathers. He portrayed his vitality and confi- dence of youth especially well in the last scene in the fencing dual. BY THE employment of simple but extremely functional scenery and costumes and effective character por- trayal by a talented cast, John Giel- gud's production of Hamlet is a work of dramat ic art of high quality in pre- senting a universal theme of revenge and forces of evil verses good. 7

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The End by Frank Shialabba Is there a man who9s never said. This tvorld of ours is good as dead. Arise, awake. and see the vice. I say, would you please pass the ice. M Today9s a day of rest, you see, Indulge and let your soul be free. ...and then you say he prayed too long. His death, in part, U’l rigA Me wrong “Of all whom I have seen and heard. The sick in mind is most absurd. Of all the vile forgotten men. Mot one to me9s the more condemned. “If left to me this world of ours Would surge and plunge and reach the stars. The end of sin and strife and dread.99 This world of ours is good as dead! For Cheats Are you really observant around your school? Or do you take Venango for granted? Here is a test of your school perception. Don’t peek during the test. We aren’t taking the grade. In fact, don’t read your questions until you get home, or don’t cheat if you feel compelled to answer them at school. We know you flunked. On to the questionnaire. Remem- ber, you may not pile up points but your humility will improve dras- tically. 1. What color are the walls in the cafeteria? 2. What is on your homeroom bul- letin board? 3. What color is the floor in your homeroom? 4. How many doors lead into the gym? 5. How many fire extinguishers can you picture? 6. What color is on the walls in the office? 7. What kind of pen does your best friend use? 8. How many buses arrive at Venango in the morning 9. Can you count all the rooms on the second floor? Oh, all right, peek. I'm a loner. Right now. I'm a teen- age loner and when I reach 21, I’m going to be an adult loner. It all stems from my crowd complex. You see, I can’t stand crowds. I just don’t know how to like them. When I see a room with more than three people in it, I go a funny color of purple and begin to hiccup. When there are four of us trying to sit in a seat accomodating two and a half on a bus, I go crazy. And when I’m standing in one of six lines out in the school hall trying to get to class in three minutes, I end up going to the office. Another thing: lunch. I eat in a cafeteria. (Another thing I could say a few carefully selected words a- bout) And if you’ve ever eaten in a cafeteria, you know what you find. Rationed food and enormous crowds. 5 minutes left. Five minutes to find a chair (not to mention a table), eat and wade through a line 30 people deep and 60 people wide to take my dishes back. Another enjoyable event that cli- maxes my fun-filled, lively day in a sardine can is my rush to the bus. Just because of my good luck, I was assigned first bus. This means I have three minutes to get out of my last class, run down the hall,(takes me about a minute and a half) down the stairs and three-fourths of the first floor hall. I'm completely ig- noring the door...it's hopeless. I’ve also given up trying to get to my locker after school...it's pitiful. But, after a year and one month, I've finally mastered getting to my bus on time. Getting on it is another thing, but I do get to it. You see, we’ve got 20 seats, each seating two and one-half (they can say three till they're blue in the face. I say two and one-half) and an aisle. That stands ten. I usually end up very near the bumper, but not far enough away to be called anything else. My mother has 4 boys, 4 girls, 2 cats, 1 dog and usually 27 neigh- bors’ kids around the house. When I try to get to the kitchen to eat, I feel like I’m walking to the conces- sion stand at Yankee Staduim. Well, I give up. Despite it all. I’ve come to this conclusion: I need people; people make crowds; crowds are a mess and nothing ever seems to go right, does it? The only thing more expensive than education is ignorance. 6

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I don't care if I do freeze, I don't care if the whole world freezes. The doorslammedshut and Jack was alone on the front porch. He quickly repeated what he had said and tried to imagine the effect it had on his aunt. As soon as he was reasonably sure that his aunt wasn't going to follow him, he j umped down the three steps from the porch and ran across the street. By the time he had run a block, the cold night air had lost its sting. It was a proven fact that running would warm you up even on the coldest night. Jack had occasion to prove it many times himself. It was terrible to be bogged down by a heavy win- ter coat. His coat was heavy and it bogged him down; his aunt was heavy and she bogged him down. Jack laughed out loud at the strange comparison and started to run a- gain. It was eight o'clock and pitch dark. As his aunt would say much too late for a boy your age to be out. Icy blasts sliced at his grey sweater and tried to fray the tips of his ears. Every cold thrust made him run faster, and his pounding heart seemed to tear itself loose from the tangled network of muscle and bone that surrounded it and crawled up his throat to spill its cool dark li- quid into his mouth and nose. THE STREET TOOK a sudden turn and a glazed sidewalk replaced the hard packed snow. He stood on the toe of his shoe so the rubber heels wouldn’t slow down his slide. The ice ended as quickly as it had started, the heavy friction of the salted concrete threw him on his side into the soft powdery snow. The white stuff ran into his col- lar and down to the base of his spine. It filled his pant cuffs and socks and clung to the hairs on his head and eyebrows. At first he thought it would be nice to lie there and be covered by the snow. Like some forgotten toy left out in the first snow storm and not discovered again till spring. The abstractness of the thought scared him so much, he crawled up and walked to the street stamping his feet to get the snow off his legs. His back was to the wind now, and it blew in at the bottom of his shirt and out at the top of his neck. The billowing cloth made his shoulders look much broader than they really were. Far- ther down the street was Levitts. Although he was familiar with the street, this was the only house he knew. Levitts always put up their Christmas decorations a month a- head of time. It reminded him of the grand opening of a supermarket or gas station. There were hundreds of bulbs forming the border of the house and an eight foot Santa Claus nodded his head and rolled his eyes a little bit like a drunk he had seen one night. Just as he had done for the past two years he planned to sneak up to the house some night and smash out every one of the colored bulbs. Past years he had never found the time; this year he would make time. 1'11 tear down that fake Santa Claus too, Santa Claus can go to hell. As he fin- ished the sentence, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed by an eight-foot San- ta Claus with fangs. The wind was in his face again and he ran to make it blow harder in his eyes. As soon as the light bulbs disappeared around the corner, Jack stopped running. He took a deep breath, exhaled it, and was tracking the steam when he noticed the i- cicle • It was in the same place it had been last year. The moon was directly behind it and the clear ice filtered the beams and spread them across the street. The ice reminded him of his mother's eyes. HER EYES WERE the only thing that he could clearly remember a- bout her. They were clear and blue, and he sometimes thought he saw through them into her head. A whole world existed in her head, a world clear, fragile, that would shatter to pieces if they were ever touched. HE COULD IMAGINE the rest of her. Her body was slim and graceful and her face, like carved marble. Her hands would have to be cool and dry, not hot and dry like his aunt's hands. It slowed his heart when he thought of his mother, but he would always—no matter how hard he tried not to—compare her with his aunt. They compared so beautifully; she was everything his aunt was not— an angel and a devil, one all per- fect, the other all wrong. WITH ONE QUICK motion, he reached down and scooped up a hand ful of snow, packed it into a ball,