Saturday, June 11, 2011

Bardfilm at the Folger Summer Institute

“Shakespeare: From the Globe to the Global.” National Endowment for the Humanities. Folger Shakespeare Library. Folger Summer Institute, 2011. Photo Credit: Courtesy Folger Shakespeare Library.
As you know all, I'll be attending this year’s Folger Summer Institute at the Folger Shakespeare Library. The amount of work that we'll all be doing is only eclipsed by the amount of fun all that work will be.

Consequently, I do not anticipate having much time to write for Bardfilm for the next five weeks, though the nature of the Institute—its title is “Shakespeare: From the Globe to the Global”—may involve so many fascinating things that I won't be able to resist posting from time to time.

But don't despair! I've written a number of posts in advance (including this one). They will automatically appear every Tuesday and Thursday while I'm at the Folger Library. Bardfilm will continue while I'm away—and I'm certain I'll have a veritable ton to write about when I return.

Until then, "Enough; hold—or cut bow strings" (A Midsummer Night's Dream, I.ii.111).

Links: The Folger Shakespeare Library.

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Bardfilm is normally written as one word, though it can also be found under a search for "Bard Film Blog." Bardfilm is a Shakespeare blog (admittedly, one of many Shakespeare blogs), and it is dedicated to commentary on films (Shakespeare movies, The Shakespeare Movie, Shakespeare on television, Shakespeare at the cinema), plays, and other matter related to Shakespeare (allusions to Shakespeare in pop culture, quotes from Shakespeare in popular culture, quotations that come from Shakespeare, et cetera).

Unless otherwise indicated, quotations from Shakespeare's works are from the following edition:
Shakespeare, William. The Riverside Shakespeare. 2nd ed. Gen. ed. G. Blakemore Evans. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997.
All material original to this blog is copyrighted: Copyright 2008-2039 (and into perpetuity thereafter) by Keith Jones.

The very instant that I saw you did / My heart fly to your service; there resides, / To make me slave to it; and, for your sake, / Am I this patient [b]log-man.

—The Tempest