The "Genesis" of Joseph and His Dreamcoat

Hilary Alexa Caldwell (left) as Rachel, Aaron Young as Joseph, and Michael A. Harding as Jacob.

By Kathryn Neves

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is one of musical theatre’s most popular shows. And it’s no wonder: with fun music, great lyrics, and zany characters, it’s a show not easily forgotten. But more than that, the story of Joseph is something that resonates with many people. After all, at its core, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is a biblical story, passed down century after century. It is a story of family, mistakes, and forgiveness. And Joseph himself is an important figure in several of the world’s major religions;  his story is familiar to many people across the globe. So what is the real story of Joseph?

Well, in truth, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical does a pretty good job of telling the story accurately, at least according to scripture. Here’s a quick rundown: Joseph is one of the twelve sons of Jacob (otherwise known as Israel). And even though he’s toward the younger end of the litter, he is Jacob’s favorite son, the first son of his favorite wife. So, he gets the birthright, and Jacob gives Joseph a colorful coat to signify his importance. Beyond that, Joseph has prophetic dreams that seem to imply his superiority over his brothers. This doesn’t sit well with them, and they sell him into slavery. Joseph is taken to Egypt, where he moves from place to place and master to master—from a large and important household, to prison, and finally to the Pharaoh. Here, his ability to decipher prophetic dreams comes in handy and saves him from the life in prison. He interprets the Pharaoh’s dreams, and is promoted to the position of vizier— essentially the most powerful man in Egypt besides Pharaoh himself. Joseph leads Egypt through a time of famine, reunites with his brothers and father (after testing their loyalty), and they all move to Egypt to be together with Joseph and be saved from famine.

Joseph was originally from Canaan, which is in modern-day Palestine, Syria, and Israel. According to the Bible, he invited his family—jealous brothers and all—to live with him in the Pharaoh’s household; thus starting the years of Israel in Egypt. Interestingly, it’s said that he asked his descendants to bring his bones back to Canaan if they ever left Egypt. So, according to the Bible, Moses brought Joseph’s remains back to Sechem— modern-day Palestine— where they remain to this day. In fact, there is a funerary monument there today that is a sacred site to many religions. 

As the vizier, Joseph would have had immense power. Although there are no records (beyond scripture) of a vizier named Joseph from this time period, there are some interesting pieces of historical evidence that corroborate parts of the story. For one thing, there is evidence of a drought in Egypt around the time of the story. For another, during this time period “a canal was built to keep the ranches of the Nile permanently open, enabling water to . . . keep the land fertile . . . in Arabic it’s the Bahr Yusef. This translates into English as The Waterway of Joseph” (“Joseph,” Religions: Judaism, [BBC, 2009]). It’s possible that Joseph built the canal as part of his plan to save Egypt from the famine. 

Practicers of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all revere Joseph as a prophet, as well as the father of important bloodlines. In Judaism, he’s known as the figure who initially brought the tribes of Israel into Egypt. In Christianity, he is considered to be a symbol, or type, of Christ. In Islam, it’s said Muhammed declared that Joseph was incredibly handsome, receiving half the beauty God apportioned for mankind. Beyond that, throughout the centuries Joseph’s story has provided an example of morality and faith for religious people to follow.

This is why the story has endured for so long. Whether you revere Joseph as a prophet or just want to watch Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, Joseph’s story is universal. Themes of jealousy, love, loyalty, and above all, family, resonate with everyone—whether read from the Bible or seen from the stage. “The story of a boy whose dreams came true” appeals to us all—because “it could be you.”

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat plays through October 12 at the Festival. Tickets are available by calling 800-PLAYTIX or at www.bard.org.

Festival Reorganizes Senior Staff Roles

The Utah Shakespeare Festival recently adjusted some of its organizational structure and the roles of some of its senior staff, merging what were formerly the Development Department and the Marketing and Communications Department. The new department will be known as the Department of Development and Communications and will be led by Donn Jersey, formerly the director of development. Tyler Morgan will take on the role of director of advertising and promotion.

 “One benefit we seek by making this change is to further integrate the external communications of the Festival so we will have a more unified message from both of these departments,” said Frank Mack, Festival executive producer. “We believe that development and marketing should always communicate the same message, and having one senior staff member leading the definition of that message will be an improvement.”

 “We have undertaken these changes in an effort to better align individual strengths with the needs of the Festival,” said Mack and Artistic Director Brian Vaughn in a joint statement to the Festival staff. “We hope this will improve how we operate, and we are committed to fully supporting both Donn and Tyler in their new roles.”

 “I look forward to working with everybody at the Festival as we move forward in our mission to entertain, educate, and enrich all of our various audiences,” said Jersey. “We have an amazing development and communication team, and I’m excited to rub shoulders with them as we integrate these important aspects of our company.”

Announcing Our 2020 Season

The Utah Shakespeare Festival has announced a new, extended season for 2020. The Tony Award-winning theatre company will be producing nine plays from June 1 to October 10, a season that is three weeks longer than this year. It is the longest season the Festival has ever produced.

 “It’s a season of love, laughter, romance, and revenge,” said Artistic Director Brian Vaughn. “Complete with identical twins, singing cowboys, dancing pirates, charming villains, and inspiring women, each of these plays celebrate the glory of life, the magnitude of love, and the laughter that lives in us all.”

 As usual the plays will be performed in three world-class theatres, with a wide variety of musicals; Shakespeare comedies, tragedies, and histories; and classic and modern theatre.

 “The Festival is breaking new ground by producing in June,” said Frank Mack, executive producer. “Changes to the calendar at Southern Utah University enable the Festival to fulfill a long-held ambition to start producing plays earlier in the summer than our traditional late June/early July start. This not only opens new programming opportunities, but provides audiences a chance to visit the Festival as early as June 1.”

 The 2020 season will start June 1 with two shows running in rotating repertory in the Eileen and Allen Anes Studio Theatre, a musical and a Shakespeare play. A third production will be added to the Anes Theatre in August.

Cymbeline, William Shakespeare’s fantastical romance, will open the season on June 1 and run through October 10. A wicked stepmother, a banished soulmate, villains, ghosts, long-lost princes, and a lion-hearted heroine are all a part of this mythic tale based on the legends of ancient Celts and chock-full of deception, intrigue, innocence, and jealousy.

 A musical comedy gone wild, Desperate Measures by Peter Kellogg and David Friedman will be in performance from June 2 to October 10. This critically acclaimed new show takes Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure and goes west—way west—as in cowboys, a mysterious sheriff, a saloon girl gone good, and a nun out of the habit. You will laugh until you cry as this show shakes things up with toe-tappin’ music and a script fully loaded with laughs.

 These two shows will run in rotating repertory, with matinee and evening performances through August 6 when a third show will be added to the mix.

 The final play to open in the Anes Studio Theatre will be the United States premiere of Shakespeare’s Worst! with performances from August 6 to October 9. Written by Mike Reiss of The Simpsons fame and actor and teacher Nick Newlin, Shakespeare’s Worst, is an original and hilarious retelling of a Shakespeare classic. Workshopped as part of the Festival’s Words3 new play program in 2018, this new play is set in a small-town theatre where a group of actors are performing The Two Gentlemen of Verona. But one of the cast members is unhappy: his career is going nowhere, he’s tired of the show, he wants out, and he is all-to-happy to tell the audience exactly what he thinks!

 Three Shakespeare plays will open the fourth week of June in the outdoor Engelstad Shakespeare Theatre:

The Comedy of Errors, one of Shakespeare’s funniest plays, will open on June 22 and play through September 4. Featuring not just one, but two sets of bewildered twins, it’s double the laughter and twice the fun as confusion reigns supreme. You will laugh from beginning to end as these bewildered twins try to unravel the lunatic events swirling around them.

Playgoers will have a chance to see the rarely performed Pericles from June 23 to September 3, as the Festival performs this tale of high adventure for only the third time in its history. Pericles is searching for thrills, treasure, and family. But his loves die, his friends deceive him, and the gods seem to be against him. In the end, he finds the most important treasure of all: himself.

Richard III is the next installment in the Festival’s History Cycle, completing the story of the War of the Roses told in Henry V, and the three parts of Henry VI. Playing from June 24 to September 5, Richard III features one of Shakespeare’s most charming and evil villains. Richard, the ambitious son of York, has taken the English throne by exploiting or murdering everyone in his path, but it isn’t clear that he can keep it in the twisted world he has created.

Three more classics will fill out the 2020 season in the beautiful Randall L. Jones Theatre:

First to open is One Man, Two Guvnors, the hilarious new comedy by Richard Bean, running June 25 to October 10. Winner of multiple Tony and Drama Desk Awards, this glorious comedy is a fresh take on the classic farce A Servant of Two Masters and a unique laugh-out-loud mix of satire, songs, and stupendous physical comedy as Francis finds himself with two new jobs and two new bosses, who (against all odds) he must continue to please through mistaken identities, outrageous farce, love triangles, and inspired lunacy.

Next is the ever-popular Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, The Pirates of Penzance, which plays from June 26 to September 5. Spotlighting a ship full of zany pirates, a bevy of giggling maidens, and a band of bumbling policemen, the show is one of the most charmingly silly love stories ever to grace the stage. Alack! Alack! Will our hero, Frederic, ever be reunited with his love, Mabel?

The final show in the Randall Theatre will be Into the Breeches!, a hilarious and heartwarming look at the WWII home front and a group of women who band together to keep their favorite theatre going while the men are off to war—by mounting an all-female production of Henry V. This modern comedy is like a theatre version of A League of Their Own and plays from July 28 to October 10.

Tickets for the 2020 shows are $20 to $82 and are now on sale: visit the Festival website at bard.org, call 800-PLAYTIX, or visit the Ticket Office at the Beverley Center for the Arts.

Witches in Utah

1989

1996

2004

2010

2019

By Kathryn Neves

“Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble. . . . By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.” These are the words that ominously echo whenever we think of witches. I mean, it’s even in Harry Potter. Definitely, Shakespeare’s witches are among literature’s scariest, and most fascinating, characters.

Macbeth has been produced at the Utah Shakespeare Festival seven times, the 2019 production being the eighth; with all that, there have been some pretty interesting witches on our stages. Take a look at a few of the ways that Macbeth’s demons have been portrayed throughout the years:

In 1989, the witches were so ominous that even pictures are frightening. Look at the beard there; clearly, the designer wanted to be as close as possible to Shakespeare’s words. “You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so” (1.3.47-49). Portraying the witches here are Laurie Birmingham, Amy Thone, and Doug Zschiegner.

Up next, in 1996, we have a trio of witches that have clearly embraced every aspect of their dark side. Their ragged costumes and hair and the sinister props, not to mention the deep red lighting and the terrifying facial expression, all point to witches operating on a plane far more terrifying than our own. Actors here are Erin Annarella, Manon Halliburton, and Kari Hayter.

The witches of the 2004 production of Macbeth are dark, sinister, and gruesome. Their makeup makes them look deathly, as though they’ve come back from the grave to torment Macbeth. The use of blood and frightening symbols made these witches’ performance absolutely unforgettable. Witches were portrayed by Misty Cotton, Pat Sibley, and Afton Quast (with Henry Woronicz as Macbeth).

And lastly, in our most recent 2010 production, these witches look wild. They look as though they live in the wilderness, waiting to prey upon susceptible people like Macbeth. Their tangled hair and matted clothing all point to their roles as creatures of another world. Their frightening demeanor and poses are threatening, even in picture form. These witches are portrayed by Chelsea Steverson, Lillian Castillo, and Monica Lopez.

 The witches in 2019 are portrayed by Emma Geer, Sarah Hollis, and Betsy Mugavero. They are supernatural and chilling, mysterious and otherworldly. They are gritty and dark and . . . well, you need to come and see for yourself.

King James I and Macbeth

By Kathryn Neves

It’s commonly held that Shakespeare wrote his plays for the monarchs of England. There are many stories, mostly apocryphal, that connect this play to that monarch; for example, one popular story says that Queen Elizabeth, upon learning that John Falstaff dies in Henry V, demanded that Shakespeare write a new play for Falstaff, one in which he falls in love— resulting in The Merry Wives of Windsor (whether or not this is a true story, it’s definitely entertaining). But there’s one play that was clearly written with a monarch in mind. Shakespeare’s Macbeth was pretty obviously a nod (and not a subtle one) to King James I.

There are a lot of reasons to say this. For one thing, the play is entirely set in Scotland, based on Scottish history and legend, and populated with Scotsmen. James I of England was actually from Scotland as well; he ruled over both England and his own home country, where he was called James VI. Though there are other Scottish characters in Shakespearean plays, there are none with so many as in Macbeth.          

Then there’s all the supernatural elements. James I was an avid scholar of all things strange, weird, and superstitious. In 1597, the king published a book called Daemonologie; it was a study of witchcraft, necromancy, demons, werewolves, vampires, and all sorts of other spooky things. In fact, much of the witchcraft in Macbeth was actually taken directly from Daemonologie, probably as a form of flattery to the king himself. It goes further than that, though. Witchcraft seems to have been a real obsession of James, as he was heavily involved in a series of witch trials in 1590. Supposedly, a coven of witches were trying to personally attack him, which was high treason, so James had them tracked down, forced them to confess to witchcraft, tortured them, and had them burned at the stake. So it’s no wonder that the witches in Macbeth are so demented and evil! Shakespeare wanted to make it clear that he was on the king’s side in the whole witch debacle.         

King James was widely considered paranoid (can you tell from the witch thing?). Throughout his whole reign, he was terrified that he would be assassinated. He was very harsh with treasonous criminals and he constantly seemed to fear usurpation. And to be fair, he had some real reasons to be afraid of all of that. When Queen Elizabeth I died, she left no children behind, which meant England fell into a crisis. The English throne only came to James because he was technically the closest relative. Even so, Elizabeth never formally acknowledged him as her heir, so he never felt fully secure on the throne. Not only that, but Elizabeth had executed his mother years before, so he had more reason to fear the English. In 1605, James uncovered an assassination attempt against him: the Gunpowder Plot. The plan was for a group of dissatisfied Jesuits to blow up the House of Lords when James was there. After discovering the plot, James arrested and executed the conspirators. The whole incident only served to feed the fire of his paranoia.          

Because of the Gunpowder Plot, most scholars today date Macbeth to 1606, just after the plot. There seem to be a few references to it in the play: for instance, the porter at Macbeth’s castle, in a little joke to himself, says “Knock, knock! Who’s there, in th’ other devil’s name? Faith, here’s an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God’s sake yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator” (2.3.7-12). Equivocation, which is both lying and telling the truth at the same time, was used as a defense by one of the conspirators at the Gunpowder Plot trial, so Shakespeare could easily be alluding to that in order to get further into the king’s good graces (Globe Research Team, “The Gunpowder Plot and Shakespeare’s Macbeth,” Shakespeare’s Globe Blog, November 5, 2014).        

Besides that, Macbeth is full of other references to James’ fears. King Duncan, a beloved, good king, is assassinated by one of his noblemen— something that seems to have been a great fear for James. Not only that, but the nobleman was consorting with witches and demons— another fear. So Shakespeare punishes Macbeth for his treason and evil behavior in the play; Macbeth himself becomes increasingly paranoid, he gets haunted by the ghosts of those he’s wronged, and he ends up beheaded and hated by all of Scotland. Shakespeare wanted Macbeth to get his just desserts so that James would be appeased.

Scottish history and legend contain a real life King Duncan, who was really murdered by Macbeth (the real Macbeth apparently was a decent king— that wouldn’t have really worked for Shakespeare’s play though). Banquo, too, was apparently a real figure. King James claimed descendance through him, so in Macbeth, when the Weird Sisters tell Banquo that “thou shalt get [beget] kings, though thou be none,” Shakespeare was really trying to help legitimize James’s place on the Scottish throne— he was saying that Banquo’s descendants deserve to be king, therefore James has a rightful claim to the throne.

Even though Macbeth was written for King James I, it’s really for all of us. The themes of triumph over evil, of greed and ambition, and of tyranny are all very important— they were relevant in Shakespeare’s day, and they’re relevant now. The reasons it was written aren’t nearly as important as the words themselves. So don’t miss your chance to see Macbeth this summer at the Festival. It’s bound to be an amazing experience.

What the Heck Is a “Twelfth Night”?

By Kathryn Neves 

There are a lot of Shakespearean comedies, all of them incredibly fun and exciting. But perhaps none is so well-beloved as Twelfth Night. It’s a staple of school performances, it’s been adapted into a movie (She’s the Man, anyone?), and it’s always been very popular with Utah Shakespeare Festival audiences. What’s not to like? It’s well-written, lighthearted, and fairly easy to understand. And yet, there’s one thing about it that absolutely baffles most people—why is it called that? What is a “twelfth night”?

Well, the answer to that question goes all the way back to the birth of Christ. That’s right. Twelfth Night is a Christmas play. You see, Shakespeare probably wrote the play for a Twelfth Night celebration. (The fact that the play’s plot has little-to-nothing to do with the holiday is neither here nor there.) Twelfth Night was a holiday usually celebrated the twelfth day after Christmas: January 6. (Is that where “The Twelve Days of Christmas” song came from? Yes. Yes it is). Though Twelfth Night is not really celebrated anymore, it was always a huge part of Christmastide celebrations in Elizabethan England. Originally, it marked the Epiphany: according to Christian tradition, the revelation of God as Jesus in the flesh. It also commemorated the Magi’s visit to the Christ child.

Now, Twelfth Night festivities were not your grandma’s Christmas parties. They were hugely raucous and full of drinking and mischief-making. One tradition was for men to dress up as women, and women to dress up as men, and for servants and masters to switch roles for a short time. It’s no wonder, then, that both of these themes appear in Shakespeare’s play. It also explains why Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and Feste are such important parts of the show; their drinking and revelry match all the contemporary twelfth night celebrations. Also, we can see Malvolio try to play master rather than servant all throughout the play, and, of course, Viola’s cross-dressing fits right into Twelfth Night festivities.

There were even stranger traditions present in Tudor Twelfth Night celebrations. One particularly odd one involves a cake, a bean, and a pea: the vegetables were baked into the cake, and the man who found the bean became king for the night while the lady with the pea became queen. But, if you want more traditional Christmas traditions, they’re part of the celebration also. Twelfth Night was a night of feasting, caroling, and wassail-drinking. It was the last night of Christmas, after all. Elizabethans wanted to send the holiday off with a bang.

Knowing all this, we can pretty safely assume that Shakespeare wrote Twelfth Night for the holiday festivities—even though the first recorded performance was on Candlemas, nearly a month later. It’s still possible it was performed earlier, or just written with Twelfth Night in mind.

Either way, this all technically makes it a Christmas story (I’m so ready for the Hallmark Holiday Twelfth Night special; I can see it now). So this winter, bundle up next to the fire with a cozy cup of cocoa and a plate of cookies; and while you wait for Santa, pull out your copy of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Or— maybe not. Instead, come and see it this summer at the Utah Shakespeare Festival. After all, who doesn’t like a little Christmas in July?

Shakespeare's Twins

Sarah Hollis (left) as Viola and Tristan Turner as Sebastian in Twelfth Night*.*

By Kathryn Neves

Ask any writer, and they will tell you: writers reuse ideas. I mean, why not? If something works and works well, then why give it up? As the old adage goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Even Shakespeare, who is arguably the greatest writer in the English language, recycled his (and others’) old ideas. Look through his plays and you’ll see common themes running through them. Shipwrecks are pretty common. Then there’s a lot of ghosts in his plays. And of course, mistaken identities are huge. One recycled idea that is particularly entertaining is twins. Shakespeare loved twins. Two of his most major, and most popular, comedies center around twins. The Comedy of Errors, one of his early comedies, is about two sets of identical twins and a farcical mixup. The other is one of the plays the Utah Shakespeare Festival is producing this season: Twelfth Night, about a shipwrecked pair of twins who are separated and end up causing all sorts of mayhem in Illyria.

As far as recycled concepts go, it seems that Shakespeare held back quite a bit with the whole twin theme. There’s really only two plays that contain twins of any kind, and only three sets of twins in total. But the fact that the characters’ “twinhood” is so prominent in the plot of the play suggests that Shakespeare was pretty obsessed with twins. Other repurposed motifs might show up, but they’re not at the crux of the plots. You might see a Shakespearean ghost fairly often, but usually the ghost is only in a couple of scenes and the plot revolves around other things. Same goes for shipwrecks and smothering people with pillows. But The Comedy of Errors and Twelfth Night would absolutely not work if it weren’t for the twins. Twins are at the heart of each of these plays.

Why did Shakespeare like twins so much? It’s hard to say. We know so little about the man himself that most of what we can say is just an assumption. Still, a lot of these assumptions are pretty safe, including the fact that Shakespeare had three children, two of whom were fraternal twins— so we can assume that this is one reason the whole twin concept was so important to him.

Shakespeare’s twins, Hamnet and Judith, were born in 1585, probably before Shakespeare had written and published any of his plays. We don’t know a lot about the twins, but we do know that Hamnet died very young— he was only eleven years old when he caught what was probably the bubonic plague. He died just a couple of years after the premiere of The Comedy of Errors. So it’s possible that Shakespeare wrote about twins because he was the father of twins.  

There are differences between the twins in The Comedy of Errors and Twelfth Night. In the former, there are two sets of fraternal twins. This is played more for farce than for any sort of emotional impact or resolution; in fact, even though the twinhood is celebrated in this play, it’s also the problem. The play is only resolved when the other characters are able to separate and make distinctions between all four twins. Twelfth Night, on the other hand, plays the whole twin idea more seriously. Don’t get me wrong; it’s still a comedy. But it’s a comedy with some sad undertones.

The play starts with a shipwrecked and distraught Viola learning of her twin brother Sebastian’s supposed death. In fact, she believes that Sebastian is dead throughout most of the play, and only finds out that he is still alive at the very end. This theme of separated and dead twins was probably close to Shakespeare’s heart; he wrote the play only around five years after his son’s death, so it’s no surprise that a dead twin is a prominent part of the plot. The twins in Twelfth Night are fraternal, just like his own children.

In Twelfth Night, it’s only through the “twinhood” of these characters that there’s any resolution at all. If Viola and Sebastian were not twins, then Olivia would end the play alone and with unresolved romantic feelings for Viola. Instead, she pairs off ultimately with someone very similar in appearance and personality, and Viola has her own love and her own life. If Sebastian was not Viola’s twin, the plot would not resolve nearly as happily or as tidily. The Comedy of Errors is all about the problems with being twins, while in Twelfth Night the twins are what make a happy ending possible.

Even with these differences though, The Comedy of Errors twins and the Twelfth Night twins are similar; both sets of twins are treated like heroes. They are the protagonists, they are normal people, and they all seem relatively happy. This was wildly different from what other writers did at the time. If twins featured in any literature at all in Shakespeare’s day, it was usually in the context of something tragic or something unnatural. Contemporary scientific thought held that twins were unnatural and deviant, born out of unnatural desires in the mother (Daisy Garofalo, “Shakespeare’s Twins,” Welcome Library, 25/04/2016).

It seems that Shakespeare was a lot more forward thinking when it came to twins than his colleagues and contemporaries. Shakespeare’s twins are not unnatural, they are not deviant, they are not weird. Instead, his twins are individuals with their own strengths and faults, and their twinhood is secondary to their own personal characters. This might be because he understood better, as the father of twins. Or it could be that he was just better educated on the subject. Or maybe, Shakespeare just knew the human condition and understood individual characters in a unique and deep way.

Regardless of the reasons, Shakespeare’s twins are complex and entertaining, and they make for some great theatre. So come see Twelfth Night this season and see the twins for yourself. You might get a better understanding of Shakespeare’s writing in general. And— most important— you’re sure to have a good time.

The War of the Roses in a Nutshell

Lance Rasmussen (left) as Earl of Somerset and Michael Elich as Richard Plantagenet in Henry VI Part One, 2018.

By Kathryn Neves

As exciting and full of intrigue as the Henry plays are, they can be hard to follow. They’re full of historical references and allusions that are far removed from our time. If you don’t know the history, Henry VI can be challenging. Shakespeare’s audiences certainly understood the plays. Even though the War of the Roses took place a few centuries before Shakespeare’s day, Elizabethans were still under the effects of the War of the Roses. The whole Tudor clan, including Queen Elizabeth, came to power because of that war. So the history was relevant and accessible to them.

We might need a little more context, though. So here is the in-a-nutshell version of the War of the Roses, as it applies to all three parts of Henry VI.

It starts, as the name implies, with two roses: one red and one white. The red rose was the badge of the House of Lancaster, and the white rose was the badge of the House of York. In Henry VI Part One, Shakespeare used actual roses as symbols for each house and for each side of the argument, but in reality, it had nothing to do with the actual flowers. There wasn’t a picking-of-the-roses scene; it was just a symbol of their houses.

Henry V (red rose), one of England’s favorite kings, tenuously won control of France and married a French princess: Catherine of Valois. Because of this, he declared himself the king of both France and England. So, when his son was born, the baby was declared the heir. Henry V died nine months after the birth of his son, and the crown passed on to the infant. Obviously, though, a baby can’t rule a country; so little Henry VI’s uncles became regents of the realm and ran the country in his place. Things were tense, but it seemed like things would get better as soon as little Henry grew up.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Henry VI was not interested in politics: he was quiet, he was weak-willed, and his wife had far more ambitious plans than he ever did. Not only that, but Henry inherited a mental infirmity from his grandfather, the old king of France. So with all that going on, there was no way Henry could effectively rule. He ended up losing France, which angered the English people and paved the way for a new contender for the throne: Richard, the Duke of York (white rose). York was a direct descendant of King Edward III, and as such had a strong claim on the crown, some say stronger than Henry’s claim. Still, Richard declared loyalty to Henry and decided to wait until Henry died, then take the throne. Unfortunately for him, Henry’s wife, Margaret, had a son and heir. At this point, Henry briefly seemed to recover from his illnesses, and sent Richard away. It was then that Richard of York decided that the time was now, and he moved against Henry.

After numerous battles, the Yorks won, took King Henry prisoner, and established the new monarchy under the white rose. Meanwhile, Margaret of Anjou (Henry’s wife) raised up an army to try to reinstate her husband on the throne. And yet again, the Yorks won.

Margaret kept trying to reinstate Henry to the throne, and York kept trying to capture Henry. Finally, Henry and Richard of York came up with a compromise: Henry could stay king, but Richard and his family would be his heirs. Margaret didn’t like this at all, and once again raised an army against the Yorks. This time, things were different, and the Yorks were soundly defeated. Margaret had Richard killed, and his severed head was put on display, putting the house of the red rose firmly in charge again.

However, Richard also had a son, Edward, and Edward marched against the Lancaster group (Henry and Margaret, if you remember). The battles seemed to go back and forth, but eventually the Yorks won, and Edward of York took the throne for himself—back to the white rose.

Margaret wasn’t done, however; she fought against Edward and put her husband right back on the throne he’d just been kicked off (now the red rose again). In retaliation, Edward gathered another army and led several more battles against the Lancasters. Henry and Margaret were defeated, Henry died, and Margaret eventually went back to France (and the throne is firmly in the hands of the Yorks, the white rose).

This is where Henry VI ends; the story keeps going, however. Edward of York, now Edward IV of England, ran the country for a while and then died, giving the crown to his son— Edward V. But Edward IV’s brother, Richard, didn’t want that; he wanted the throne for himself. He plotted to have the boys declared illegitimate and placed in the Tower of London— and was soon crowned Richard III.

All of this, though, led to Henry Tudor— a distant relative of Henry VI— defeating Richard III and taking the throne for himself, as Henry VII. He quickly married Elizabeth of York and they had a child who would become Henry VIII, with blood in his veins of both the house of York (white rose) and the house of Lancaster (red rose), finally uniting the two families and ending the War of the Roses. And, of course, one of Henry VIII’s children was Elizabeth, who would become Queen Elizabeth I, Shakespeare’s queen and possibly his patron.

There’s a lot to unpack here, but that’s a quick glimpse of the War of the Roses and the history and context. Hopefully this will help you to understand the play a little better. But even without all these details, you should see the play: it’s full of tyranny, political intrigue, and crazy family dynamics that everyone can understand, whether they’re an Elizabethan peasant or a present-day office worker.

A Two-for-One Spectacular

Jim Poulos as King Henry VI in Henry VI Part One, 2018.

By Kathryn Neves

For the first time in the history of the Utah Shakespeare Festival, audiences will get to experience not only a sweeping epic of warfare and intrigue, but can view two shows for the price of one: all a part of this season’s production of The Conclusion of Henry VI: Parts Two and Three.

The last two parts of Shakespeare’s timeless Henry VI will be produced together this season, performed one after another in a two-in-one viewing. Each part will run for around two hours, with a thirty-minute intermission between them. And the best part? You can see both shows for only one ticket.

“I was intrigued with the idea that Festival audiences would have the opportunity to see both parts played out in a single viewing, keeping the serial nature of the work more immediate and helping the viewer digest the arc of the story in a more profound way,” said Brian Vaughn, artistic director. “Most of our productions are trimmed or cut, even the comedies, and that includes this production. However, this is still both plays, still Shakespeare’s characters. Still Shakespeare’s plot.”

This production is the latest installment in the history cycle, the Festival’s plan to produce all ten of Shakespeare’s histories in chronological order. In addition, this will be the first time at the Festival that the plays will be performed as separate shows, rather than a combination into one play. (In 2000 the Festival produced all three of the Henry VI plays in one adapted version, The War of the Roses.) Guests participating in Complete the Canon will be able to check both plays off their list this year!

In addition, The Conclusion of Henry VI: Parts Two and Three will be performed in the Anes Studio Theatre. “Shakespeare works in all kinds of theatre facilities. One reason the Festival wanted to build a studio theatre was to enable us to do Shakespearean performances in a small theatre setting, said Frank Mack, executive producer. “The Anes Theatre will make for a very intimate performance style of these plays. . . . This kind of variety is one of the things that makes visiting the Festival so unique.”

“Like our recent Anes productions of Othello and Julius Caesar, by performing The Conclusion of Henry VI: Parts Two and Three in the studio, audiences will be thrust into the heart of the action, and the play can sweep over them in a way that is more visceral and immediate than the grand, outdoor Engelstad Theatre,” explained Vaughn. “The intimate nature of the theatre is in harmony with the intimate nature of the plays and puts the audience in the same room as the characters, allowing them to see, feel, and experience the play in a completely different way than they had imagined.”

Parts two and three of Henry VI are among the least performed of Shakespeare’s canon, so this season’s production of each of them will be a rare, exciting, and unique experience. “These plays are full of intrigue and fascinating history, but there is also a lot of warfare,” said Mack. Vaughn added that “audiences can expect a sweeping, engaging, thrilling production in an intimate setting, featuring amazing actors and engaging storytelling.”

The Conclusion of Henry VI Parts Two and Three will run from June 29 through August 31. For tickets and more information, call 1-800-PLAYTIX or visit www.bard.org.

Be Part of a Unique Theatrical Experience

Costume design by Lauren T. Roark

By Kathryn Neves

Have you ever been part of a show? I don’t mean as an actor, or a director, or a technician. Have you ever been in the audience and been a part of the show itself? 

We see it all the time. Audience members pulled onstage from their comfortable seats, thrust into the limelight of the stage for a few minutes, then returned to their perch to watch the show. It’s in a lot of plays, and really fun ones too; Forever Plaid does it, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) does it— we even do it in The Greenshow sometimes. It’s a lot of fun for everyone involved, and creates fun memories that will last for years to come.

Every Brilliant Thing, though, is different. The audience isn’t just part of the show; they aren’t just there for a scene or two, then gone. No, the audience for this show is as important to the production as the actor himself.

From the very beginning, Every Brilliant Thing is different. This isn’t a play you just sit back and watch. Instead of an actor onstage reciting soliloquies and speaking monologues to the open air, the actor speaks to you. To us. Right away, that traditional fourth wall is broken. There’s just no such thing in this play.

Every Brilliant Thing is the story of a young man dealing with the repercussions of his mother’s drastic actions. The Storyteller, the only character in this one-man play, tells us all the ups and downs of his life. He tells us about his dog, his marriage, and, most importantly, his relationship with his suicidal mother. But this isn’t just a one-way conversation. No, the audience steps in. Various audience members become therapists, vets, lovers, professors; they answer back to the Storyteller’s questions and concerns. The audience is a character in this play.

Why would a writer do that? Why would a playwright, who is well aware of the rules and conventions of the theatre world, deliberately destroy the fourth wall and put so much responsibility on the audience?

The truth is, theatre is about much more than sitting down and watching a play; it’s about more than entertainment. That isn’t to say that entertainment value isn’t important. After all, would we still watch and enjoy Shakespeare’s plays if they weren’t at least nominally entertaining? But theatre goes deeper than that. Theatre is about people. It’s about very human emotions and actions, and it’s about relationships. Mostly, theatre is about community. It’s about coming together as people and sharing a beautiful, moving experience. As audience members, we react together: we cry at Juliet’s tragic death, we laugh at Bottom’s bumbling idiocy. We feel the pain behind every Laura Wingfield, and we savor in the romance between Tony and Maria. Even though the characters are only figments of our imagination and the inventiveness of the actor, we connect with them in a very real way.

In Every Brilliant Thing, we have a bigger chance to do that than we do watching other plays. We get to be a part of the experience, and we get to share in the joys and sorrows of a young man’s life, not only with each other, but with the character himself. By the end of the show, we get to feel like a real family— a family of audience members and actors, of theatre lovers, of people.

In the end, Every Brilliant Thing is really a one-of-a-kind theatre experience. Every night is a different show, with different people and different characters; each night, the list of brilliant things changes and evolves with the people who watch the play. But what doesn’t change is what really matters: the celebration of life and of people. What an amazing experience to be a part of!