William Shakespeare
–
The Lord Chamberlain's Men, The King's Men
Eulogy
William Shakespeare, affectionately and exhaustingly known as The Bard, leaves behind an unreasonable number of plays, a suspiciously durable vocabulary, and several thousand actors still trying to figure out where to breathe. He had a gift for making kings sound doomed, lovers sound confused, and fools sound like the only sensible people in the room. His career reminds us that even four-hundred-year-old deadlines can feel urgent when the rehearsal report says the ending still needs work.
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The Bard had a habit of saying he would keep the rewrite small, then inventing six new idioms before breakfast. We complained, of course, but only because the rest of us had to pretend we were not impressed.
I once asked Will for a quick two-line toast for opening night. He returned three acts, four ghosts, and a clown who had opinions about the catering. Still, somehow, it killed.
He never met a balcony he could leave unused. A generous collaborator, a relentless pun enthusiast, and the only person I knew who could turn a missed entrance into a soliloquy.