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Send us a text Today I’m taking that same Shakespearean blueprint and placing it in a new world: the 1961 film West Side Story. I’m going to do this in the simplest and clearest way possible: I’m going to tell the film’s story in a straight line. As we go, I’ll point out the matching Shakespeare “parts” — not as trivia, but as the engine that makes both stories run. And one clear rule: no lyrics, no musical quotations. I don't wanna get in trouble, and besides We don’t need them. This story is Shakespeare before anyone sings a note. Lantern lit. Curtain up. Let’s put the pieces on the board. Tony is your Romeo figure: once connected to the Jets, now trying to step away from violence and build a different future. Maria is your Juliet figure: young, protected, watched, expected to choose within her group and remain loyal to it. The Jets and the Sharks are the Montagues and Capulets: rival “houses,” reimagined as rival street groups. Riff is Mercutio-energy: Tony’s friend, charismatic, proud, full of swagger, and emotionally committed to the feud. Bernardo is Tybalt-energy: Maria’s brother, protective, quick to escalate, and intensely driven by honor and group identity. Anita is the confidante figure — like a Nurse-energy role but tougher and more adult: she’s protective and practical, and later becomes crucial to the catastrophe. Chino is the approved match, a Paris-function figure — and later becomes the instrument of tragedy. That’s enough. Now we move. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Welcome back. Verona is split by a feud. Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet fall in love, marry in secret, and attempt to outrun a culture trained for violence. Then comes the turning point: Tybalt confronts Romeo, Mercutio fights, Mercutio falls, Romeo kills Tybalt, and Romeo is banished. Juliet faces a forced marriage to Paris. A desperate plan depends on a message. The message fails. Tragedy follows. Tonight we interview three figures who did not cause the feud—but who, in different ways, accelerate the catastrophe: Mercutio: wit as weapon The Nurse: love under pressure Friar Laurence: good intentions, bad architecture George (announcer tone): A civic bulletin from Verona: The Prince has threatened death for further public brawls. Citizens pretend this will work because threats are easy to announce. But the feud continues, because feuds are not ended by decrees. They are ended by changed habits— and habits are slower than anger. Meanwhile, young men patrol their reputations like soldiers. Servants learn violence as a dialect. And in this atmosphere, a private love story becomes a public emergency. Back to our guests. George I’m going to ask each of you the same guiding question: Which moment did you tell yourself you were helping—when you were actually making it worse? We’ll take you one at a time, and then—because this is theatre—we’ll let you answer each other. Mercutio. You first. “I thought I was keeping Romeo alive” George Mercutio, you’re not a Montague by blood. Not a Capulet. And yet you are at the center of the storm. Why? Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text JULIET (calm, surprising firmness): They call me a child because I am young. But children don’t usually bury their own futures with their own hands. George (gentle): Then let us speak plainly, Juliet. Not as an emblem. Not as a tragic ornament. But as a mind at work inside a storm. George If you’re joining us now: Verona is split by a feud between Montagues and Capulets. At a Capulet feast, Romeo Montague meets Juliet Capulet. They fall in love at speed, marry in secret, and try to build a private world inside a public war. Then a street conflict erupts: Mercutio falls, Romeo kills Tybalt, and Romeo is banished. Juliet’s parents arrange a marriage to Paris. A desperate plan depends on a message. The message fails. Tragedy follows. Tonight, we speak with Juliet—often treated as “the girl on the balcony,” when in truth she is one of the sharpest minds in the play. First it might be useful to ask the question - Who is Juliet?” George Before we begin, a brief character file—because Juliet is often misread. Juliet Capulet is: young, yes, but not simple devoted, but not passive romantic, yet fiercely practical when forced trained by obedience, until obedience becomes impossible Her superpower is not beauty. It’s clarity under pressure. All right. Juliet—let’s begin where the world begins to lean on you. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Welcome back. But first, If you’re joining us now for the first time, here is what you must know. Verona is split by a feud between two houses: Montague and Capulet. Romeo Montague meets Juliet Capulet at a feast, and they fall in love with reckless sincerity. They marry in secret—hoping, perhaps, that love might stitch together what hatred tore. However the city runs on pride and sudden violence. A street fight ends in death. Romeo kills Tybalt and is banished. Juliet faces a forced marriage. A message fails to arrive. The tragedy does what tragedy does. Today, we step away from the crowd and speak to one young man at the center. Romeo. George Romeo, you are often described as impulsive. Romantic. Dramatic. Let me ask a sharper question: When people call you “rash,” what do they fail to see? ROMEO: They fail to see… I was trying to be good. Not perfect. Not wise. But good. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text A large National Council of Teachers of English teacher survey reported by Education Week lists Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and Hamlet among the most frequently assigned texts in U.S. And Folger Shakespeare Library notes its edition sales (a good “what schools buy” proxy) had Romeo and Juliet first, followed by Hamlet, Macbeth, then A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Othello, and Julius Caesar. But before I start talking about British school subject matter, I better describe one certificate and one assessment of skills that are more or less standard in the United Kingdom. First, there is the GCSE or General Certificate of Secondary Education. It’s the main set of school qualifications students typically take in England, Wales, and Northern Ireland, usually at age 15–16 (Year 11). Students take several subjects (like English, Math, Sciences, History, etc.), and the results are used for next steps such as A-levels or vocational courses. And then there is the AQA -  which stands for Assessment and Qualifications Alliance an exam board in England, Wales, and Northern Ireland that creates the syllabuses, sets the exams, and award qualifications for subjects such as English, History, Sciences, etc.). Now back to the Shakespearean plays most frequently studied in the United Kingdom. Most-studied in UK secondary schools - In the UK, the gravitational center is Macbeth—especially at GCSE level. A UK secondary teaching survey reports Macbeth as the most popular overall, and one study cited within the literature reports ~65% teaching it for GCSE (with Romeo and Juliet next). Exam boards also list Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest, The Merchant of Venice, Much Ado About Nothing, Julius Caesar and Twelfth Night.  12th night is sometimes add it to the list. So before I start going into some of the modern productions of Shakespeare's plays, I thought it might be more fun, as well as instructional, to go back and look at the originals. But first I'm going to give you what I hope is a simple timeline - about a minute - that roughly puts Romeo and Juliet into perspective date wise. Early 1590s: early blood-and-thunder tragedy + first big history hits (think Henry VI plays, Richard III). 1594–1596: lively early comedies and experiments as his voice sharpens (e.g., Love's Labour's Lost, A Midsummer Night's Dream). c. 1594–1596: Romeo and Juliet (mid-1590s), one of his early breakthrough tragedies. 1595–1596: Richard II (another key mid-1590s work). 1596–1597: The Merchant of Venice (often placed around this period). 1598–1599: Much Ado About Nothing (late-1590s “mature comedy”). 1599–1600: Julius Caesar (turn-of-the-century political tragedy). 1599–1601: Hamlet (written around this window; many place it at 1601). Early 1600s: the “big tragedy” period ramps up (including Macbeth, usually dated after James’s 1603 accession). 1610–1611: late “romance/magic” phase, including The Tempest and The Winter's Tale. 1613: very late career work like Henry VIII. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Mr. Shakespeare, in our previous episode, you were talking about your life and your literary career.   Could you briefly remark on the uniqueness of Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth, as well as their importance to literature. Shakespeare Now I could not speak to this assemblage without addressing the subject of my play Hamlet. Many individuals have called it my greatest play. Here is a prince torn between revenge, morality, and his own inaction. With the simple, yet profound, words ‘To be, or not to be…,’ I attempted to capture a question that has haunted humans for centuries: what does it mean to act, and what does it mean to live? In King Lear, I explored family, power, and madness, peeling back the layers of human pride and vulnerability. In Othello, I explored jealousy and how manipulation destroy trust, while in Macbeth I examined ambition, guilt, and the blurred lines between fate and choice. In each play, characters are no longer symbols or types—they are fully human, with thoughts, fears, and contradictions that mirror our own. To use a modern day analogy, this was like a musician dropping three platinum albums in twelve months. I wasn’t just producing — I was redefining what theater could be. This is the run that still leaves critics amazed: the great tragedies. Between about 1600 and 1608, I wrote Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth. Mr. Shakespeare, could you specifically comment on your play Othello. Certainly. Othello (written in 1603–04), is a love story poisoned by jealousy. Add Iago, one of literature’s great villains, and you have a play that feels chillingly modern. In Othello, jealousy and manipulation take center stage.   I understand that in the character of Iago, you make an excellent comment on the subject of jealousy. Yes, Iago warns in the play, ‘O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.’ With just a few words, I tried to capture the destructive power of envy and the ease with which human trust can be undone. That is very well said. Could you go on in the same vein. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light: If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning’st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume. When I have pluck’d the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again. It must needs wither: I’ll smell it on the tree. Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword! One more, one more. Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after. One more, and this the last: So sweet was ne’er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears: this sorrow’s heavenly; It strikes where it doth love. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text You see, by 1582, when I was only eighteen, I married a lady by the name of Anne Hathaway,  Some scholars Believe that my wive's name was actually Agnes. In any case, our first daughter, Susanna, was born the following year. Twins, Hamnet and Judith, followed in 1585.  Unfortunately my dear son Hamnet later died.  And then comes the mystery: the so-called “lost years.” Between 1585 and 1592, I completely disappear from the historical record. No plays, no mentions, no documents, but what we do know is that by 1592, I was in the city of London and making a name for myself. A rival playwright, Robert Greene, derided me in print as an “upstart crow.” For all its venom, the insult is proof that I had arrived — I was already challenging the university-trained writers and beginning my rise to the very top of the Elizabethan stage. George So Mr. Shakespeare, it would seem that one might say that you were fully in the London scene. Shakespeare Precisely! By the early 1590s, I was fully in the - as you call it - London scene — which meant two things: theater and plague. In 1592, theaters were shut down because of an outbreak, and with the stage dark, I began to write poetry. Today the public might refer to this time in my life as my side-hustle era. I published two long narrative poems, Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece, dedicated to a wealthy young noble, the Earl of Southampton. You flatter a patron, they fund your career. And the process worked. These poems put my name in print for the first time. And in 1609, I published a book of sonnets that included the famous “shall I compare to a summers day” Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Greetings Mr. Bartley. Let me begin by saying that if you visit the city of Stratford-upon-Avon in England today, the first thing you’ll probably hear is that I was born in 1564. We don’t actually know the exact day, but we do know that I was baptized on April 26th at Holy Trinity Church. Since baptisms usually happened a few days after birth, tradition has settled on April 23rd — St. George’s Day — as my birthday. A fitting coincidence, since St. George is England’s patron saint and many individuals said during an after my life that Iwould become England’s greatest poet. Master Shakespeare, could you tell us a little bit more about YOUR background in Stratford-upon-Avon. Certainly. I was the son of John Shakespeare, a glove maker and part-time wool dealer who rose to become an alderman in the town, and Mary Arden, who came from a well-off farming family.  My parents gave me a household connected both to trade and to old Warwickshire landowners. Mr. Shakespeare, may I be so bold as to ask you what irritates you the most?   What stings is when people decide I simply sprang from the stage fully formed. No rough drafts. No homework. Just “Ta-da, here’s Hamlet.” I was not born quoting To be, or not to be”? When I was twelve, my most famous line was probably, “Master, may I please go outside? My hand is cramping.” Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Now when I started this podcast I knew that I wanted to use a somewhat similar device WHERE I interviewed THE characters in Shakespeare's play - that could be very instructive and lots of fun. But first I wanted to get the relatively tedious stuff out of the way first - starting with rhetorical devices. And then I DELVED into several episodes dealing with the plague in England during Shakespeare's time. Interestingly enough topic the all important subject of the plague was not even discussed in my Shakespeare courses in college. But then again, that was before Covid. And I thought it would be especially interesting to compare Elizabethan societies reaction to the plague with contemporary reactions to Covid.  Both were deadly airborne diseases, and while Shakespeare's contemporaries how to comparatively primitive understanding of how the plague was spread, the dynamics of the plague were surprisingly similar to the dynamics of Covid - showing that people are basically people - no matter what the historical period. Oh and by the way, since the subject of death could often be very heavy I thought the best way to approach it was to have relatively brief episodes - lasting approximately 15 minutes each. But for a good part of the rest of this podcast series I went to continue a conversation with William Shakespeare, and next month start a look at the writers works, and a series of conversations with various characters - and some of Shakespeare's characters were fascinating individuals GEORGE (quiet): But first. You might say that We like to imagine Shakespeare alone with a quill, serenely producing masterpieces. But the theatre didn’t run on serenity. It ran on deadlines. A play had to be ready. Actors had to learn parts. Costumes had to exist. A crowd had to be fed a new story—often constantly. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text Last episode we placed you in the Bishopsgate area by documentary footprints. Now we move a short distance to the engine room: Shoreditch—where purpose-built theatres rose. Two key playhouses defined the neighborhood: The Theatre (built 1576) — built by James Burbage in Shoreditch.  The Curtain (opened 1577) — also in Shoreditch, near Curtain Close.  Both sat outside the City of London’s jurisdiction, in a zone where entertainment could operate with fewer city restraints.  WILL: In other words: a borderland. GEORGE: Exactly. A liberty zone—where London’s appetite could be fed without London’s conscience being too inconvenienced. 8:00–15:00 THEN: A walking tour in sound GEORGE: Will, walk us into Shoreditch on a performance day. What do we hear? WILL: Noise first. Always noise. Hawkers. Apprentices. Laughter that sounds like daring. And the constant London music: bargaining. You smell food, sweat, and the city’s open secret—too many bodies too close. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text GEORGE: Before we start, I want to be fair to the truth. We do not have a neat, signed lease saying: “William Shakespeare, here is your first London room, congratulations.” In fact, Shakespeare’s early London years are famously foggy. What we have instead is a trail of documents — tax records, parish lists — the kind of evidence that proves you existed in a place even if doesn’t give you a cozy story. WILL: History often remembers a man not when he is dreaming, but when he is owing. GEORGE: Exactly. So today, we’re going to walk into London the way a historian has to: by following the paper. GEORGE: Here’s our first solid anchor: by the late 1590s, Shakespeare is recorded in the parish of St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate. The Folger has a documented record: the Lay Subsidy Roll for St. Helen’s (1598) lists “William Shakespeare” among parish householders and gives his assessed wealth and tax.  And the UK National Archives teaching packet includes transcripts from tax commissioner records (1597 and 1598) tied to St. Helen’s/Bishopsgate, showing Shakespeare listed among those who hadn’t paid what was due.  WILL (dry): So my earliest London address is… a bill? GEORGE: In a sense, yes. The National Archives packet explicitly describes a 1597 list of people in St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate who had not paid, with Shakespeare’s goods valued and tax owed.  And the same packet includes a 1598 list in St. Helen’s parish and a later Exchequer entry showing the tax debt continuing.  Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text GEORGE: The Bills of Mortality—weekly printed tallies—turned death into public information, something people watched like weather. (pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov) WILL: And once death is printed, it becomes “real” in a new way. But it also becomes… manageable. A column of numbers fits neatly on a page. A grave does not. GEORGE: That’s the paradox: a bill can keep the dead visible— and it can also teach the city to normalize loss. WILL: Yes. A repeated tragedy becomes background noise unless the heart fights it. GEORGE: And then there’s the other “memorial space” in your era: the theatre itself. After major plague closures, theatres reopened—like after the 1603 outbreak, with reopening in April 1604. WILL: And the crowd that returned was not innocent. They returned carrying private funerals. GEORGE: So the playhouse becomes a communal ritual of memory—without calling itself a memorial. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text GEORGE: Today: How Plague Trained Us How plague trained Elizabethan culture—audiences included— toward certain fears and reflexes… and how COVID trained us in remarkably similar ways. GEORGE: Quick reminder: my Shakespeare can look back from the present day—films, scholarship, modern claims— but he cannot predict the future. No prophecy. WILL: Memory, yes. Foresight, no. GEORGE: Now, When I say “habits of mind,” I mean the reflexes that become automatic: how you interpret a cough how you feel about crowds what you do with your hands what you believe when you’re afraid what you do to feel safe who you trust, and how quickly you withdraw trust WILL: An epidemic trains a person the way war trains a person— not by speeches, but by repeated fear. GEORGE: Exactly. Repetition makes instinct. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text GEORGE: Now, When I say “habits of mind,” I mean the reflexes that become automatic: how you interpret a cough how you feel about crowds what you do with your hands what you believe when you’re afraid what you do to feel safe who you trust, and how quickly you withdraw trust WILL: An epidemic trains a person the way war trains a person— not by speeches, but by repeated fear. GEORGE: Exactly. Repetition makes instinct. GEORGE: Will—give me the plague-trained mind in your world. What habits did people acquire? WILL: I will give you six, sir—six habits the plague taught my city. Habit 1: Vigilance without rest WILL: The plague teaches you to scan. To listen for coughs. To watch faces. To read the street like a warning. GEORGE: Hypervigilance. WILL: Yes. And it is exhausting. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.

Send us a text GEORGE: In this series we’ve treated plague as a character. We’ve treated fear as a character. We’ve treated rumor, policy, numbers—characters. Today I want to treat the audience itself as a character. Not a passive crowd. A living organism. WILL: Yes. A crowd is not merely many people. It is one creature with many hearts. GEORGE: And after plague, that creature is wounded. WILL: Wounded—and hungry. GEORGE: Hungry for what? WILL: For company. For permission to feel. For a story that does not lie to them… but also does not crush them. George -  What the plague did to the audience before they even arrived Let’s build the world they were walking in. Your city tracked death publicly. Bills. Lists. Tallies. Numbers. WILL: Yes. A city reading its own obituary in installments. Support the show Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.