This is a deliberately odd rendition of the play, not least in having Othello the Moor appearing instead as Othello the Celt, and more specifically as a kilted, red-haired Scot, with the text adapted, so that, for example, Iago exclaims, “I hate the Celt …”

The point is made in the programme note that it remains true that, however vital to the Venetian authorities he may be as a military general, in warfare, he remains inexorably an exotic alien among them, for ever excluded from the tribe, and its in-groups. As a soldier in the field, he has understood perfectly well what’s what, but in Venetian affairs, and affairs of the heart, he may well have to depend upon insiders to interpret situations for him, and, notoriously, he does rely upon the ostensibly “honest” Iago to do so.   

The setting and costuming are vaguely late-nineteenth century, with soldiers still fighting with swords. Two of the three Venetian senators are female: Ludovica and Veronica. Oh well. A director uses what casting she’s got available, and finds interesting.

Things do on the whole work, with Matt Walden coping reasonably well with the role of Othello, not soaring very far with Othello’s glorious rhetoric, but nonetheless acting with a convincing emotional intelligence. Shivarn Stewart as Desdemona also delivers an intelligent, sensitive and appealing performance, a trifle quiet at first, but within a relatively small-scale venue, this does no harm.

The other key role is that of Iago and, at least for the first performance, Matthew Poucher has some way to go in mastering the dynamics of meaning and emotion in his dialogue. He’s got the words – and even in a trimmed text, Iago does have quite a lot of them – yet not, or not yet, this mastery. Still, any actor playing Iago has a lot to do, and in other ways he does it.   

Productions of Othello tend to vary fascinatingly in their balancing of Othello and Iago – if the performance of the actor playing Iago is too strong, too effective, he can steal the relevant scenes, put the actor playing Othello in the shade. This production does at least get that balance right, with Matt Walden’s performance as Othello retaining the dominant interest. 

The other cast members are all adequate, in context, with the veteran Mark Kilsby especially effective as Brabantio, Desdemona’s dad, in his distress, bitterness and, finally, spite (“Look to her, Celt, if thou hast eyes to see. She has deceived her father and may thee!”). Jessica McLean as Emilia, Iago’s wife, is also very effective, within the relatively intimate venue, which allows some subtlety, as a character who has been simply an attendant grows in individuality and agency.

Jak Edens does well enough as Cassio, and Rohan Prince as Roderigo. Two further, quite sound, veterans in the cast are Paul Lyons as the Venetian senator Gratiano and Richard Mays as Montano, governor of Cyprus. Sarah Lipinsky has several effective sequences as Bianca, Cassio’s mistress.

Generally Joy Green’s production does work, on its own terms. The venue, in the foyer of the Museum, exploits some stairs, and an upper level walkway, although most of the acting is on the level floor. Nic Green’s production design doubtless includes the white schematic battlemented castle detail at stage right, which both frames the acting area and screens off the museum’s front desk and counter. Two backless couches, moved about, serve for seating, and one of them, later, for Desdemona’s bed. 

With the Glasgow Commonwealth Games just completed, Celts and kilts seem not so very outlandish, but Othello the Celt, increasingly dishevelled and disturbed, among the smooth Venetians, is painfully plausible.

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