Wadlow meets Shakespeare

It is April 23rd today which traditionally marks both Shakespeare's birthday and the day he died. So I thought I would write something about the day I went to visit Shakespeare.

Madoc had been filming my journey for ten years and we had built up a lot of evidence that we were ready to present to the world in a documentary. We started showing extracts from the film to broadcasters and the one thing they all said was what’s the ending? By that they meant can you prove it is Shakespeare. That is obviously the big question, and the answer is not an easy one. None of the paintings of Shakespeare have been proved to be a portrait painted when he was alive not even the Chandos portrait at the National gallery. The trail of proof for the Chandos being Shakespeare doesn’t start until 1719 and none of it is written proof it is all oral. So, whilst there are many contenders none has the final bit of proof needed.

So, try explaining that to a tv station that wants a clear-cut story with a start and an end. Most of them didn’t get it. It is the journey that is the interesting thing. How the evidence is collected over years of struggle and luckily, we had captured a good deal of that for the film. What we decided was that in order to give the film a good ending we would do what Alfred Hitcock did and that is to set the final scene of the film in an iconic location. For instance, North by Northwest ends with a dramatic chase that sees Cary Grant climbing down the faces of the American presidents at Mount Rushmore.

So, we decided that our ending would be a visit to Holy Trinity church in Stratford upon Avon where Shakespeare was baptised and where he is buried. Even better I took the portrait with me.

Steven holding the Wadlow portrait beside Shakespeare's grave in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford upon Avon

Living a mere 60 miles away, I had of course been there many a time and stared at Shakespeare’s grave and then up at the funerary bust. On my previous visits I was one of  many tourists and pilgrims, all of us kept at a distance by a thick red rope.

This time was different; we had the church to ourselves for a few hours. Amazingly, the guardians of the church had let us in and trusted us to be alone. No restrictions, no red rope. I was able to stand below the funerary bust holding our Shakey beneath, being careful not to stand on Shakespeare's or any of the other graves.

I was filmed carrying the portrait in the art bag towards the grave. As usual none of this was scripted; I had been wound up and set off. Once at the grave, I exclaimed that I had brought Shakespeare home, holding the carry case containing him aloft. Rather a bold claim, but I genuinely felt that way. I was overwhelmed, and Shakey, I could feel, was desperate to get out of the carry case.

I chatted to the camera about the Funerary bust. Today the bust has black hair like the Chandos but there is strong evidence that originally it had auburn hair like the Wadlow. There was a painting made of the bust before it suffered damage and repainting which has happened over the years. In that painting it is clear that Shakespeare has auburn hair.

Shakespeare's Monument painted by John Hall 1748

Whilst standing in front of the graves with the fabulous stained-glass windows as a backdrop, I declared that hopefully, one day someone might buy it and that we would have done well for the family and for history, and that the portrait could be displayed, available for all to see.

Then, sat by Shakespeare’s grave I tried to lighten the mood saying that I had had a word with the bard earlier and told him that if this portrait is really you, then knock once. At that point I stamped my foot on the stone floor making a loud bang. “There we are, I told you.” I added.

I was feeling pretty happy with how the day had gone and thought we were about to wrap up, when Craig, our cameraman, spoke! Usually when he spoke, it was to say “thank you, that was great ” but this time it was a question directed at me with the camera still rolling.

“Have you ever had any doubts that it is Shakespeare?”

Wow, that’s a direct question. I was, of course, very, very sure our chap was Shakespeare, but as ever, I just said what I thought, without really thinking first.

“No, not really.”

“You Haven’t?”

“I will reserve a small percentage of doubt as it would be foolish not to. But if it’s not Shakespeare, it's someone that doesn’t arf look like him.”

This last sentence just came out, I'm not sure where from, but after I said it and the camera was turned off, I laughed to myself. I was very pleased with that comment, and even now, when I see it played back, it makes me chuckle to myself.

It would be great to hear what you think of my journey so, if you would like to leave a comment on this post please go to the very bottom of the page.

Steven and Madoc