midsummer's night dream

okay but if you’re ever in london and you have the chance to see a shakespeare play performed at the globe theatre itself DO IT even if you don’t think you’d dig shakespeare

if you need convincing here are a few highlights from when my family and i went to see the official globe theatre production of a midsummer night’s dream:

  • they cast helena as a guy (helenus), first of all. they took a straight love square between two girls and two guys and made it a love square between a girl and three guys, only one of which was white. both sets of couples get happy endings and it’s fuckin adorable
  • it was reimagined with an indian setting
  • puck had a water pistol and kept shooting at the audience
  • historical accuracy?? who cares everyone’s gonna dress like a modern hipster teenager
  • bottom and his acting troupe sung bon jovi
  • oh yeah also the acting troupe were reimagined as globe theatre employees with delusions of acting skills
  • hermia and helenus sung single ladies by beyonce
  • innuendos. innuendoes everywhere
  • oberon walked onstage for the fight between oberon and titania drunk with a half-empty bottle of schweppes
  • lysander spent a significant length of time in the play wandering around in just boxers and a leather jacket
  • oberon made out with puck
  • demetrius dabbed
8

“Well hello there, Chere.”

In second year, we did a narrative unit where we had to have a go at someone else’s story. We had limited choices, but i chose A midsummer night’s dream. I had this lovely idea of a New Orleans version, with Baron Samedi and Mama Brigitte as oberon and titania, a jumped up greaser poltergeist as Puck and relevant sacrificial animals as fairies. 
   Hence the chicken.
I did so much research on this, i learned so much about voodooism. So awesome and such a serious practise. These two gods seemed perfect to act as fairy royalty.
  Again an old piece, maybe two years old? But the ink is still good, I think.
Enjoy

Edit, people seem to like this, would anyone be interested in me completing the scene? like i planned out the whole confrontation scene in 2014.
  Any thoughts? 

further edit 9/8/17- 
so if anyone is still interested in this bad boy, i’m planning on doing the entire goddamn play. keep an eye on the tag if we shadows for updates. its gonna take a while but you guys really seem to love it so we’re doing the whole thing. i love hearing that you guys like this, your comments make me more determined to make this a real thing, so seriously, 
 thanks for that!!

Yuri on Ice Midsummer Night’s Dream was such a nice official art and both Yuri and Yurio were soooo adorable! But yeah, Yuri Katsuki with similar clothing but adult sized! His eros is showing and I am dying XD although, if he portraits a kind of love, dressed and acting like this, I feel ludus would be a better match… I don’t know, what do you think? :/

A quick guide to Shakespearean men

Hamlet, the little emo shit

King Lear, the big emo shit

Romeo, the hormonal emo shit

Puck, just a little shit tbh

Macbeth, the Scottish emo shit

Henry V, the frat boy emo shit

Brutus, the honorable emo shit

Othello, the poc emo shit

Richard II, the greedy emo shit

Don Jon, the illegitimate emo shit

shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

2

I loved the idea, so I prepared a short comic about it!! Please don’t judge  me, I spent the whole Sunday drawing it and neglecting other stuff..ahahaha X_____D)

Anyway I’ll be uploading one page at a time.

Enjoy!!

Second page here

(BTW if you wanna know more about this AU, you can visit my other post here http://kamapon.tumblr.com/post/161935035260/kamapon-kamapon-kamapon-what-are-you)

How to flirt Shakespeare Style:
  • write sonnets for your beloved
  • disguise as a teacher to be near to your beloved
  • elope with your love in a fairy wood
  • shame her in front of the wedding party
  • murder Duncan
  • kill your wife’s cousin on your wedding day
  • kill her husband and say you only did it cause she’s pretty
  • kill your wife