Use Your Imagination

Finding connection in the messy days of March is a challenge.

There's a dirty order to the snowbanks lining Toronto streets, exacerbating the isolation winter brings. People are packed away under layers of sweaters, riding alone in cars, subways, and streetcars; they're lost in their i-pods, glued to their Blackberries, stuck to television screens. Roads and sidewalks separate people, people separate themselves, and pretty soon one looks in the mirror to find a pale, puffy stranger in need of Greens Plus and a case of Prozac.

Yet there is an alternative to all this "in the bleak midwinter" stuff. Toronto's lively arts scene is full of inspiration and wonder, as evidenced in Soulpepper Theatre Company's current production of As You Like It.

Lest you feel tempted to emit a yuck-Shakespeare groan, be aware that this isn't a production full of big wigs, tight bodices, pointy shoes, grave tones or that most tiresome of classical performance habits, U-S-A-ing, otherwise known as Urgent-Shakespeare-Acting. Far from it.

As You Like It, now on at the Young Centre, is chock-a-block with fresh-faced members of the Soulpepper Academy -so fresh, in fact, that one wonders if they were kept in a hyperbaric chamber since July. The casting and presentation give much-needed jolts of youth, joy, and vitality to one of Shakespeare's most complex and layered works.

This is a production that is deeply satisfying in its simplicity: accessible but never patronizing, intelligent but never impenetrable.

Instead of imposing large ideas or hokey concepts, Soulpepper Artistic Director Albert Schultz directs As You Like It with a deft and knowing hand, allowing the poetry of Shakespeare's words to reveal and illuminate. He inherently understands that the Bard requires no gimmickry or interference, that characters and their dilemmas can -and do -speak for themselves.

In place of a recognizable period and locale, there is a mixed bag of visual and aural references to chew on. But far from being confusing, these elements, used in tandem with a consistent palette of colours and sound effects, combine in challenging the audience to use their own imaginations, much in the same way Shakespeare would have done with his own audience.

The story is simple enough, with Rosalind, daughter of Duke Senior, banished by her usurping uncle, and fleeing with cousin Celia to the Forest of Arden, where both meet love and life experience, and encounter a sense of community their court existence had deprived them of.

The dualism of the plot can, of course bewilder: Rosalind pretends to be a man, but then acts as a woman, in order to court her beloved Orlando, even as Rosalind, as a man, is wooed by another woman. Then there's the terrible twos: two sets of brothers share a terrible animosity, there are two (very different) fools, there are two country girls, and there are two sets of two weddings. That's a lot for any audience to keep track of, let alone one director.

Yet Schultz keeps things flowing, choosing lights, props, and staging that emphasize a sensitive balance between intimacy and openness. The stage of the Baillie Theatre is refreshingly uncluttered, and Lorenzo Savoini's clean design goes a long way to telling a story that has implications far past the mythic forest of Shakespeare's imagining.

The stark, white, geometric precision and hard angles that characterize the world of Duke Frederick are replaced with pungent, cushiony scarlets and the rich, billowing browns of forest life. Fraying red ropes hang like random umbilical cords, whispering a confirmation of sustenance and shelter. There is a natural balance to life here, which reminds the audience of the essentially dualistic nature of the play.

Thus, dualism is acknowledged, both inventively and economically. Something as simple as a cooking pot in Arden becomes an instrument of torture in the Duke's court. Bare, cold walls become soft, satiny moss. Dualism even extends to casting, with Mike Ross doubling as Oliver (angry brother to the smitten Orlando), and Amiens, the chief musician who serenades Celia (an effervescent Jennifer Villaverde) at a moment when she needs it most.

The importance -indeed, necessity -of creativity (again, between the characters, audience and performers) is underlined repeatedly. The mask of a wrestler near the play's start bares an unmistakable resemblance to Strongbad (an online cartoon character), adding a nice element of playfulness. A babbling brook (the edges and stepping stones of which are indicated with rope) that divides the stage for many of the Arden scenes acts as a reminder of what the play's characters -and perhaps audience -seek: purity, cleansing, redemption.

Music is another element that creates a sense of community between performers and audience. But instead of tinkling Elizabethan tunes or peppy modern pop, composer Mike Ross has opted for a Celtic-Appalachian sound. It's Bill-the-Quill-meets-Bron-Yr-Aur-Stomp, and it works well in complementing the clear, elegant aesthetic of the production, while never robbing it of joyful vivacity.

Making the most of this joy is Sarah Wilson, who infuses her Rosalind with youthful zeal. Despite the gravitas of being one of Shakespeare's greatest female parts, here she is presented precisely for what she is: a young woman on the edge of adulthood.

It's fascinating to watch Wilson as she explores her character's feminine identity through that of her male alias, Ganymede. Particularly charming are the scenes with Michael Blake's enthusiastically love-crazed Orlando. We see the two frequently navigate between awkwardness, openness, vulnerability, hurt and adoration, and we recognize every single moment on that bumpy road to love.

Diego Matamoros brings a wry, dry, eminently-watchable energy to the role of the famously-melancholy Jaques. Not so much melancholy here as too smart and self-aware by half, his combination of weariness, wit, and honesty is particularly effective when placed with the altogether hilarious, kinetic energy of Oliver Dennis' Touchstone. You don't have to be familiar with Soulpepper's history to sense the casting genius in having these two talented actors, in these particular roles, verbally sparring and playing off one another's energy.

Whether it's Jaques outrageously swaying to Amiens' music like a hillbilly Bob Dylan, or Touchstone wielding his staff like a badly-dressed Gandalf, there is always a constant balance being maintained, here, as in every scene of As You Like It: a balance between smart and silly, anger and forgiveness, love and indifference.

All of this is underlined in the final scene, with the four couples joined in marriage, as red leaves slowly fall around them, marking a transition both without and within, that is as natural as it is poetic.

As You Like It underlines the great need for maintaining balance within a creative environment that fosters, nurtures, and encourages growth. If that sounds complicated, it isn't. Schultz makes it clear -in the most simple and timeless of ways - that As You Like It is every bit as applicable in its call for connection in 2008 Toronto as it was in 1599 London.

This is Shakespeare presented clearly, with much imagination and love. It's a welcome respite from the dirty details of winter, and worth a trip, with toque, Totes, and TTC, down to the snowy lanes of the Distillery District.

Arden awaits.

As You Like It runs at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts through April 19th.
For more information, go to soulpepper.ca.