{"id":1656,"date":"2018-09-27T15:51:11","date_gmt":"2018-09-27T14:51:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/?p=1656"},"modified":"2018-09-27T15:51:11","modified_gmt":"2018-09-27T14:51:11","slug":"propwatch-the-handkerchief-in-othello","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/2018\/09\/propwatch-the-handkerchief-in-othello.html","title":{"rendered":"Propwatch: the handkerchief in Othello"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

No, not that<\/em> handkerchief, the one that convinces Othello that his wife has been unfaithful. When Shakespeare\u2019s hero finds that Desdemona has apparently mislaid the cherished keepsake from his mother, decorated with strawberries and traced with delicate patterns, he becomes suspicious; when led to believe that she has casually handed it to another man, he becomes murderous.<\/p>\n

The 17th-century critic Thomas Rymer mockingly suggested the play should have been titled The Tragedy of the Handkerchief<\/em>, as it warns \u2018all good wives that they should look to their linen.\u2019 At Shakespeare\u2019s Globe<\/a>, Desdemona\u2019s handkerchief is a handsome chestnut number, twinkling with strawberry-coloured sequins. It makes an eye-catching accessory \u2013 especially when Mark Rylance\u2019s Iago dandled it in front of my nose, as I stood at the very front of the stage. When I reached out, he chidingly snatched it away.<\/p>\n

Claire van Kampen\u2019s sleek psychological thriller of a production keeps clutter to a minimum, but there are several other handkerchiefs on view. Roderigo (Steffan Donnelly), Iago\u2019s uncomprehending stooge, has a fancy one that covers his face as he lies dead. Desdemona herself (Jessica Warbeck), after losing the strawberry hankie, puts a clean square of cloth in her belt and hopes Othello won\u2019t notice (fat chance).<\/p>\n

And Rylance\u2019s Iago has a hankie of his own: a fat pad of cloth that he tucks inside his ensign\u2019s jacket, neat between the first and second buttons. It mostly stays stashed \u2013 Iago is a master of keeping things close to his chest \u2013 but every so often, usually when alone, Rylance will bring it out.<\/p>\n

Why does it matter? Well, there\u2019s possibly no more charming actor alive than Rylance. His armoury of fey twinkles, his double takes as easy as breathing, his delicious vocal murmurs that caress his lines like bubble wrap \u2013 it\u2019s intensely loveable. Until, as Iago, it isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Pleated tight with mystery<\/strong><\/p>\n

Rylance has snared the Globe audience before. His Richard III played the simpleton, and played us too. He looked not the full duke \u2013 two princes short of a Tower \u2013 but gradually revealed a steel trap of a performance. His Iago too seems legible as sunlight, especially when he makes us giggle. With Roderigo or Cassio, he trots around the stage, a ceaseless feint and swerve to keep everyone off balance. With Andr\u00e9 Holland\u2019s Othello, dropping bait like a dedicated angler, he stays still and bides his time.<\/p>\n

Shakespeare\u2019s villain is pleated tight with mystery. Not least, in this production, how he ended up married to Sheila Atim\u2019s frank and fabulous Emilia. He\u2019s a charmer when he wants to be, an avuncular cheeryble if required, but Rylance never lets us forget that he\u2019s ultimately a murderer. Holland hits the devastating moments when Othello determines to kill Desdemona and Cassio; Rylance doesn\u2019t even flinch as he hears the words. He\u2019s prepared to let innocents die, only seconds after he\u2019s professed his friendship.<\/p>\n

What kind of person does that? I stared and stared at Rylance\u2019s familiar face \u2013 I\u2019ve been watching it my whole theatregoing life \u2013 but couldn\u2019t see where murder lurked. At key moments, he wipes expression off to a blank. The only tell might be that handkerchief. It\u2019s part of a soldier\u2019s kit \u2013 a neat wad to mop or bind in an emergency \u2013 but Rylance keeps it hid until he\u2019s alone. Then it comes out: he\u2019ll keep it folded but use it to mop his brow \u2013 the prickle of sweat the only indicator that he\u2019s struggling to keep the plots spinning. Or he\u2019ll just clutch it tight in his fist for comfort.<\/p>\n

Rylance rarely uses his hanky with other characters \u2013 heightening the character\u2019s obsidian core of selfishness. He doesn\u2019t bring it out to swab Roderigo\u2019s bleeding face, even though he\u2019s the main cause of the battering. But he does, creepily, use it to blot Desdemona\u2019s tears towards the end of the play \u2013 an especially nasty moment, as he\u2019s put her in harm\u2019s way using her own precious piece of cloth, and he knows she\u2019s soon to die. He\u2019s even urged Othello to strangle her in their bed.<\/p>\n

Even at this moment, you can\u2019t spot the dissimulation \u2013 this honest Iago seems every bit as four-square decent as Rylance\u2019s tugboat captain in Dunkirk<\/a>.<\/em> But here, as elsewhere, he keeps his cloth folded in a pad. Iago\u2019s supremely unrevealing \u2013 he\u2019ll go to his death without explanation \u2013 and he won\u2019t unfold his secrets, even to us.<\/p>\n

Photo, top, by Simon Annand<\/a>. Iago’s handkerchief is concealed, naturally.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Follow David on Twitter: @mrdavidjays<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

No, not that handkerchief, the one that convinces Othello that his wife has been unfaithful. When Shakespeare\u2019s hero finds that Desdemona has apparently mislaid the cherished keepsake from his mother, decorated with strawberries and traced with delicate patterns, he becomes suspicious; when led to believe that she has casually handed it to another man, he […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1657,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[322,321,32,68,34],"class_list":{"0":"post-1656","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-uncategorized","8":"tag-props","9":"tag-propwatch","10":"tag-shakespeare","11":"tag-shakespeares-globe","12":"tag-theatre","13":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1656"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1658,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656\/revisions\/1658"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1657"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1656"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1656"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/performancemonkey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1656"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}