Homer Twigg

When Prof. Kubiak gave us the option to perform a section of Euripides' Hippolytos in lieu of a 25-page paper, we jumped on the opportunity. In the weeks preceding the performance, I began to get anxious about how the show would turn out. We carved out a section of the play to perform, assigned parts, and began preparing.

In the week prior to the performance, we started meeting and going over our material. Coates and Geggie both recite Greek better than I, and are Greek majors (whereas I am a Greek minor). If this performance was going to crash and burn, it would be from my doing. So I practiced a lot in front of my bathroom mirror and went over other recitations I had done from The Illiad and The Odyessy to get me in Greek-speaking-mode.

Two days before the play we began building our costumes based on tips we got from Prof. Day. I ended up using the most rudimentary of tools to achieve my effeminate nature: a mop head for a wig, a bedsheet for Chorus dress, and some boots (which are historically accurate!).

Minutes before our performance Geggie was still coaching me on meter, and my throat was in my chest. More people turned out than I expected, as our show was during lunch on finals week. But Detchon's International hall filled up, and it was show time. We matched our song and speech with dramatic effect so that people could figure out about what was being said (along with the translation), I butchered a couple of words, and it was done before it began. Even though people laughed at some parts, it was a very solemn part of the play. Perhaps our greatest strength was a reflection of this seriousness on stage, even if the crowd was having a good time.

I got a B in the class, and I'm happy with that. I worked hard to use my Greek skills in a way that was marginally more fun than writing a 25-page paper. I also showed the campus that day that Classics folk are an odd bunch, but resourceful enough to present ancient works of genius using nothing but a book, some janitorial supplies and old laundry.