News From the Festival
The Big Sir: Thoughts on Falstaff and the Festival
John Ahlin as Sir John Falstaff
By John Ahlin
Over the next few weeks I will be writing blog posts about the joy of acting at the Festival and the honor of playing big Sir John Falstaff. Here is the first:
Very near the end of the last Harry Potter movie the screen goes black, and the words “Nineteen Years Later” appear just before we see Harry, Hermione, and Ron greatly changed, yet the same. This little blog post could begin with a black screen that says “Three Years Later.”
I was last in Cedar City in 2015 and had the very high honor of appearing in the very last Utah Shakespeare Festival play performed in the Adams Shakespearean Theatre. It was a night to remember. After portraying Sir John Falstaff in the final heart-wrenching moments of Henry IV Part Two, we had an emotional ceremony onstage, summoning the spirits and echoes of all the Shakespeare plays performed in that magnificent Wooden O. Then audience and actors together solemnly walked in the dark one block over to what can be only described as an indescribable mass of incomplete concrete, amidst a confusion of construction materials. Simple words of hope and pledges of continuing were expressed, and at the perfect moment a beacon was illuminated, shining brilliantly into the heavens. Well here I am, three years later, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, again playing Falstaff (and if physics is correct, that beacon is three light years away, on its way to infinity).
You can imagine, as a returning guest artist, what a thrill it is to see the magnificent Engelstad Shakespeare Theatre up and running and the gorgeous Utah Shakespeare Festival campus alive and bustling. And like Ron and Hermione and Harry, while everything is different, the spirit, the desire, the fire—the magic—which is the Festival’s true essence is the same. It remains alive, growing, vital and masterful. Simply put: new location, same inspiration.
I can happily report that I love performing on the Engelstad Theatre stage. The audience, which to me sets the Festival apart, is right there, laughing, cheering, and so easy to connect with. I see their faces, as the Sir John Falstaff depicted in Merry Wives often speaks to them directly.
While some scholars insist that this Falstaff doesn’t hold a candle to the great Falstaff of the Henry plays, as the actor charged with breathing life into one of literature’s giants, I can tell you—it’s the same guy. He still has the acumen, wit, and weariness of the world’s ironies with which Falstaff of the Henriad is blessed/cursed. He still has a blind spot to duplicity, never imagining Hal would ever shun him, and likewise, when Mistress Ford apparently responds affectionately, he genuinely believes she has genuine love for him. The possibly true legend has it that Queen Elizabeth wanted to see Falstaff in love, and Shakespeare obliges. While Falstaff’s desperation for money is the spark, love is the flame that fuels and ultimately scorches him.
Wooden O Brings Scholars to Festival
Scholars from across the United States and beyond will be gathering in Cedar City August 6–8 to discuss “The Other in Shakespeare.” Now in its seventeenth year, the Wooden O Symposium, sponsored by the Utah Shakespeare Festival, the Southern Utah University College of Performing and Visual Arts, and the Gerald R. Sherratt Library, is a cross-disciplinary conference exploring Medieval through Early Modern Studies through the text and performance of Shakespeare’s plays.
The conference will feature two plenary speakers:
Madeline Sayet
Ma****deline Sayet will speak August 6 on “Shakespeare and the Invitation.” She is a director of new plays, classics, and opera and was named to Forbes magazine’s 2018 “30 under 30 List” in the Hollywood and entertainment area. She has also been honored as a TED Fellow, an MIT Media Lab Director’s Fellow, and a National Directing Fellow and is a recipient of the White House Champion of Change Award. Raised on a combination of traditional Mohegan stories and Shakespeare, she was the Resident Director at Amerinda (American Indian Artists) Inc. in New York City from 2013 to 2016 where she developed new plays by Native playwrights and launched the Native American Shakespeare Ensemble.
Edna Nahshon
Edna Nahshon is Professor of Jewish Theater and Drama at the Jewish Theological Seminary, New York and Senior Associate at Oxford University’s Center for Hebrew and Jewish Studies. Her specialty is the intersection of Jewishness, theatre, and performance, a topic on which she has written extensively. In 2016 she curated a major exhibition titled “New York’s Yiddish Theater: From the Bower to Broadway” at the Museum of the City of New York and prepared the exhibition’s extensive companion book which received the 2016 George Freedley Award Special Jury Prize for an exemplary work in the field of live theatre or performance. Her most recent book (with Michael Shapiro) is Wrestling with Shylock: Jewish Responses to The Merchant of Venice (Cambridge University Press, 2017).
Presenters reading their papers will cover a host of topics, including “The Case of Morocco: Failed Immigration in The Merchant of Venice” by Stephanie Chamberlain, Southeast Missouri State University; “Gender Gymnastics: Joan of Arc, Queen Margaret, and ‘Othering’ in the three parts of Henry VI” by Brian Carroll, Berry College; “‘Be a Man’: Othello, Criticism, Race, and Hegemonic Masculinity” by Kelsey Ridge, University of Birmingham, United Kingdom; “A Stranger to His State: Prospero’s Isolation through Art” by Sarah J. L. Chambers, University of Central Oklahoma; and many others.
After the symposium, selected articles will be published in The Journal of the Wooden O. The journal is published annually by Southern Utah University Press in cooperation with the SUU Center for Shakespeare Studies and the Festival.
For more information, visit the website at bard.org/wooden-o-symposium or call 435-865-8333.
The Iliad: Fact or Splendid Fiction?
By Kathryn Neves
Almost everyone knows the basic story: the beautiful Helen, Paris of Troy, strong Achilles, and noble Hector. We all know about the River Styx and the thousand ships and the Trojan Horse. But at the center of all this splendid storytelling is one question: did the Trojan War really happen? After all, for centuries people have called it nothing more than a myth—a story told to teach children the perils of war and greed and the all-consuming power of the gods. Did it happen, or was it only a story? There’s no way Homer’s poem is true, is there? Is there any fact at all to The Iliad?
Until the 1860s, the world was certain the story was only a myth—that is, until the work of Heinrich Schliemann, a German archaeologist with a passion for Greek mythology. Digging at the modern-day city of Hisarlik, Turkey, Schliemann made an amazing discovery. Hisarlik is not one city, but nine; all built on top of one another (Stefan Lovgren, “Is Troy True? The Evidence Behind Movie Myth,” National Geographic, May 14, 2004). The whole site was a treasure trove of history just waiting to be discovered. Though most of these ancient cities didn’t seem to have anything to do with Homer’s masterful poem, two did: the sixth and seventh oldest layers, now usually called Troy VI and Troy VII.
Troy VI certainly matched Homer’s description. Schliemann found evidence of fabulous wealth, strong architecture, and a fairly large population. It was full of temples and tributes to the gods and all sorts of other Homeric-looking artifacts. So there it is, right? Question closed? We found Troy? Well, no. There was one thing wrong with this city; it wasn’t destroyed by war. It was destroyed by an earthquake! There were no glorious battles between Hector and Achilles, but instead between tectonic plates. On the other hand, some argue that Homer’s text does point to an earthquake. The Trojan Horse could be a metaphor for Poseidon: he was associated with horses, after all, and he was the god of the seas and of earthquakes. Perhaps The Iliad’s end battle was all just a symbol of the natural forces of the earth (Lovgren).
Then again, there’s more evidence to be considered: Troy VII. To be fair, it did not really match Homer’s description. It wasn’t as big and wasn’t as wealthy. But the ancient ruins fit the time frame for the Trojan War; and, most importantly, it was destroyed in battle. Archaeologists have uncovered arrowheads, slings, battle-fallen corpses, and other evidence of warfare. It’s possible, then, that Homer combined the two cities, both VI and VII, into one: it makes a better story that way, after all.
Still, with some evidence on the war’s side, there’s a lot we know didn’t happen. First and foremost, Helen: it’s very unlikely that any conflict was started over her kidnapping. Now, that doesn’t make it impossible. There’s historical precedent for wars beings started over an insult to a king. But there just isn’t any evidence to prove this point (Lovgren). And the other characters are probably completely fictional as well. Achilles, Hector, Paris, and the rest are probably completely myth. Not to mention the supernatural elements like Zeus and the Underworld and Hades, all just traditions of ancient Greek religion.
And then there’s other theories as to how Troy VII was destroyed; it’s very possible that it was defeated by the “sea people,” who were from what is now Italy. We know they passed through at the right time, according to ancient Egyptian records. And we know they ransacked every city they passed through. So there are other explanations for the battle-torn Troy VII. It might not have been the Greeks at all.
All in all, we don’t really know what happened between the Trojans and the Achaeans—if anything. All the evidence is so time-worn and flimsy that we’ll probably never know the full story. Maybe The Iliad is fiction, maybe it’s fact, or maybe it’s some combination of both. But it doesn’t really matter. Homer’s The Iliad, and this season’s play An Iliad, capture the human condition; through it we see the agonies of war and the benefits of bravery and nobility. Even if every word of it is fiction, the characters and their struggles still ring true.
The Festival production of An Iliad
Who Were Achilles and Hector?
By Kathryn Neves
This season’s An Iliad is full of amazing stories, themes, poetry, and settings. But more than anything, this play is full of amazing characters. Even though every character is portrayed by one man, The Poet (played by Brian Vaughn), each of Homer’s original warriors and soldiers and kings come to life in a way that you don’t see too often. Two characters, especially, drive the heart of the story: Trojan Hector, and Greek Achilles. Though these characters are nemeses, and even though they seem to hate each other, they have more in common than they have differences.
Achilles, according to legend, was half-immortal: his mother, a sea-nymph, dipped him into the River Styx when he was only a baby. This meant he was completely indestructible— all except for his heel, which his mother used to hold him when she dipped him into the water. According to The Poet, he is the greatest warrior that ever lived: “bigger than Heracles, bigger than Sinbad, bigger than . . . well, who’s the greatest warrior living now?” His life is surrounded by the supernatural; he was raised by a centaur, he can speak to animals, and it’s been prophesied that he’ll die in Troy. More important than all this, though, is Achilles’ character; he is extremely prideful, vengeful, and quick to anger.
Hector, on the other hand, was all mortal. He was the son of Priam, the king of Troy. It was his brother, Paris, that kidnapped Helen and started off the entire war. And just like Achilles, Hector is very prideful. He refuses to retreat, he refuses to let anyone else lead the battles against the Greeks, and he refuses, most of all, to surrender to the other side. Even when his wife and child beg him to call off the fighting, he won’t do it. He would rather die in the glory of battle than live with defeat.
Achilles, in his pride, refuses to fight against the Trojans; he’s been offended by the Greek leader, so he lets the army suffer and falter in order to prove a point. Hector, on the other hand, fights wholeheartedly; he wants to defend his country and his family, so he gives the battle his all. But he’s not only fighting to defend his country; he’s fighting for the glory of it. “He won’t let anyone else lead the charge for Troy. . . . He wants to be in charge. Complicated. Full of hubris.” He’s the one who eventually ends up killing Achilles’ best friend, Patroclus. And it’s only Patroclus’ death that finally spurs Achilles to fight.
Hector wants to battle Achilles to avenge his country and defend it against future Greek attacks. In An Iliad, he considers reasoning with Achilles, but his pride overcomes him. Similarly, instead of letting bygones be bygones, Achilles swears vengeance on Hector and goes after him and his armies. It’s their fight to the death that sits at the heart of the play.
What makes these characters so similar? In a word, it’s their pride. Neither one is willing to lose or to concede anything, even if it is for a greater good. Instead, each character lets his pride fuel his rage and his desire for vengeance. Each has a passionate love for and loyalty toward others; Hector cares for his wife and son more than anything. In An Iliad, we see his tenderness and love as he speaks with his baby son, and we see his worry for his wife. Likewise, Achilles has an intense attachment to two characters: his lover Briseis and his best friend Patroclus. We learn in the play that “Patroclus and Achilles were more than friends, they were brothers. And really they were more than brothers, they loved each other.”
We learn that both Achilles and Hector are good men. They are driven by courage and nobility; they want only to defend and avenge their loved ones. Each of them is their respective side’s best warrior. It’s no wonder that Homer wrote so much about them. But ultimately, it’s their pride and anger that destroys them. An Iliad shows us that each character lets his pride overcome everything he loves until there’s nothing left but rage and war.
Even though they seem very different when you first look at them, Hector and Achilles are very alike; they are men who want what is best for themselves and for their loved ones. Come see An Iliad this season; you’ll see the beauty of love and loyalty and the dangers of pride and anger. And most of all, you’ll see a beautiful, but sad, tale portrayed in exquisite language and masterful storytelling.
Announcing the 2019 Season
VIEW AND PRINT THE 2019 SEASON CALENDAR
The Utah Shakespeare Festival recently announced its fifty-eighth annual season. Themed around family and “The Ties that Bind,” the Festival’s 2019 season will feature eight (or depending how you count, nine) plays from June 27 to October 12, 2019. In an effort to make it easy for loyal Festival guests to order their tickets well in advance, tickets are now on sale.
Families of many kinds will be featured in the diverse line-up, from dark and dysfunctional to hopeful and full of great joy. For more information or to order tickets after July 6, visit www.bard.or or call the Ticket Office at 1-800-PLAYTIX.
“The 2019 season is rich with life-affirming classical and contemporary plays, each celebrating the preservation of life and the value of our loved ones,” said Brian Vaughn, artistic director. “Five classics by the Bard (two played out in one epic viewing), a new play celebrating the work of William Shakespeare, a heartwarming tour-de-force, an incredibly relevant powerhouse by one of America’s greatest playwrights, and the return of the most popular musical in Festival history will all come together for a season not to miss.”
The 2019 plays are:
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
Lyrics by Tim Rice
Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber
It’s bright! It’s loud! It’s technicolor! It’s Joseph’s new coat! And it sets the tone for a frolicking Biblical satire filled with vaudevillian tunes, country and western swings, calypso, and good old rock and roll. This classic musical of Joseph and his brothers has been going strong for fifty years and guarantees to leave everyone in the family humming for days.
Macbeth
By William Shakespeare
Haunted by the witches’ prophecies and spurred by his wife’s ambitions (as well as his own taste for power), Macbeth dares to tempt fate. But in this, one of the world’s first psychological thrillers, he slowly finds that his murderous machinations are doomed to bitter and tragic failure.
Hamlet
By William Shakespeare
Prince Hamlet wants the truth—and retribution. Driven by his father’s ghost, his mother’s hasty remarriage, and the corrupt society all around him, he plots and withdraws, schemes and retreats. Written at the height of Shakespeare’s career, this powerful examination of the human psyche is the Bard’s most mature and chilling revenge tragedy.
The Book of Will
By Lauren Gunderson
Without William Shakespeare, we wouldn’t have the world’s most memorable plays—and without his friends, we wouldn’t know he wrote them. After the Bard’s death, his fellow actors realize that the plays they love are being muddled and even lost; they know they need to publish a collection of his work. Thus, they launch a seemingly impossible mission to print “the book” of his plays and save his legacy.
The Conclusion of Henry VI, Parts Two and Three
By William Shakespeare
Pitting the Lancasters and the Yorks in a battle for the crown and the future of England, this story is at times both grim and heroic. The epic tale of kings and families at war will be concluded in one grand event spanning the War of the Roses in an epic and expanded experience. Don’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime theatrical event of the last two parts of Henry VI.
Twelfth Night
By William Shakespeare
Orsino loves Oliva (who won’t give him the time of day). Olivia loves Viola (whom she thinks is a boy). Viola loves Orsino (who doesn’t know she’s a girl). Malvolio loves being in love; and Sir Andrew, Toby Belch, and Maria love life to its fullest. It’s all rollicking confusion, but these hilarious characters do, at last, find love where they least expect it.
Every Brilliant Thing
By Duncan MacMillan
With Jonny Donahoe
Mom’s in the hospital. She’s “done something stupid.” So you start a list of everything that’s brilliant and worth living for. 1. Ice cream. 2. Water fights. 3. Staying up past your bedtime. You leave it on her pillow, hoping—and you add to the list throughout your life. This funny and moving play is a tribute to resilience and hope—as it enlists you to tell its heartfelt story.
The Price
By Arthur Miller
A powerful, riveting masterpiece by one of America’s greatest playwrights, The Price spirals around two brothers’ struggle to make peace with their past. Years after an angry breakup, Victor and Walter meet again after the death of their father. As they sort through his possessions, the memories evoked stir up old hostilities and bring the angst of years of unanswered questions back to the surface.
“The 2019 season is filled with shows that will connect with Festival audiences,” concluded Frank Mack, executive producer. “Starting with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, including great Shakespearean masterworks such as Hamlet and Macbeth, and ranging to an American classic, The Price by Arthur Miller, 2019 will be a great season to drink in what the Festival does best.”
Festival Cancels 2018 Production of Pearl’s in the House
Cedar City, UT, June 22, 2018 — The Utah Shakespeare Festival has announced that it has cancelled the 2018 production of Pearl’s in the House.
Citing culturally insensitive communications issued by the guest director/creator of Pearl’s in the House regarding casting, the Utah Shakespeare Festival issued the following:
These communications, which were brought to our attention after the fact, were not in harmony with the values and mission of the Festival which includes a deep commitment to diversity and inclusion. The Festival regrets the harm this incident caused a potential member of our company and artists who were planning to work on the show, and any inconveniences it may cause our guests.
Executive Producer Frank Mack said, “Our 2018 season is thematically based on ideas of the adverse effects of intolerance in our culture. The offensive communications that led us to cancel this production are completely contrary to these values and the artistic objectives we are pursuing this season."
“It is an unfortunate set of circumstances for all the artists who have put so much work into the process, but our organizational culture and values take precedence always. This was an incredibly difficult decision because of the impact this would have on so many parties; however, continuing the production would not add to our mission and our values but would detract from them.” said Artistic Director Brian Vaughn.
As a result of this change, the Festival will be adding performances of An Iliad, which will take place in the Eileen and Allen Anes Studio Theater in selected slots that were previously designated for Pearl’s in the House. The Festival will be reaching out to guests who have already purchased tickets to Pearl’s in the House to help them with exchanges or refunds.
For more information on the 2018 season of The Utah Shakespeare Festival, please visit bard.org or call 1-800-PLAYTIX
Keeping Up with the Lancasters
King Henry VI costume design by Lauren T. Roark
By Kathryn Neves
The last few years have seen a rise in British family dramas. With shows like The Crown and Downton Abbey, it’s easy to see why complicated families make such entertaining stories. But this isn’t a new trend— no, it goes all the way back to Shakespeare!
This year at the Utah Shakespeare Festival, we’re continuing one of the biggest family dramas in history. Henry VI Part One, though not often produced, is a captivating look into England’s crazy family dynamics. Now, you don’t need to be an expert on the English royal family to enjoy this season’s production, but Henry’s family history is too exciting to ignore. Let’s take a closer look at the family behind some of Shakespeare’s masterpieces.
The story really starts with Edward III—Henry VI’s great-great-grandfather. Whether or not Shakespeare wrote a play about him is debatable— but even so, Edward is at the crux of this ongoing family crisis. After studying his family tree, Edward decides (much to France’s chagrin) that he is the rightful king of France. And thus, the Hundred Years’ War is born. Although he eventually admits that he isn’t France’s rightful king, his actions leave a bitter taste in the French mouth for decades to come.
Edward has many children, and three of them are major players in this ongoing drama: Edward the Black Prince, the heir to the throne; Lionel, Duke of Clarence; and John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. Unfortunately, the Black Prince dies before his father, so when Edward III eventually passes, the rightful heir is his grandson; the Black Prince’s child, Richard II. Because he is only a baby, his uncle John of Gaunt is left to care for the kingdom while Richard grows up.
As you might know if you have been following our history cycle, Richard II is a very bad king. Corrupt, weak, and extravagant, Richard finds himself very unpopular with his family— especially with Gaunt’s son, Henry Bolingbroke. And when Gaunt dies, instead of letting Bolingbroke rightfully inherit his father’s wealth and lands, Richard seizes it all for himself, sending Bolingbroke into a frenzy. He rallies up an army and takes over the throne. After declaring himself King Henry IV, he imprisons and murders Richard. Not a great way to treat a cousin, if you ask me.
Naturally, the rest of the family is not extremely pleased with Henry IV’s behavior. One group of cousins in particular hates Henry the most; the grandchildren of Lionel, Duke of Clarence. Because Lionel was born before Gaunt, his descendants believe that they have more of a right to the throne than Henry does. So Henry IV spends his entire reign fighting off his own family to keep the throne for himself— eventually passing it on to his son, Henry V.
Henry V’s reign starts off with a whole lot of excitement. Like his great-grandfather, Edward III, Henry decides that he deserves the French crown more than the current French king. And, as you probably remember from two seasons ago, Henry does pretty well in France; he wins major battles and gains a lot of land, as well as the hand in marriage of the French king’s daughter, Katherine of Valois. Things seem to be going well for Henry.
But meanwhile, there’s another player in the story; someone who will upset everything for Henry and for his infant son, the future Henry VI. His name is Richard, the Duke of York. He’s the great-great grandson of Lionel of Clarence, Edward III’s second son. He’s also the grandson of Edmund of York, Edward’s fourth son, on his father’s side. This makes him Henry V’s second cousin, twice removed. And he wants the throne too. After all, he is from the Lionel’s, who, in his opinion, really deserve the throne. As if that isn’t enough, Richard also wants revenge: Henry V’s line, the Lancasters, have killed Richard’s father. So, while Henry V lives out the rest of his life, Richard bides his time.
After dying quite young from dysentery, Henry V leaves his throne to his infant son, Henry VI. And because the new king is so young and weak, France decides to make their move: Henry V is dead, so they want their land back. And now is the perfect time for Richard York to move in too. After gathering a group of rebels, Richard starts a fight against the Lancasters for the throne— thus kicking off the War of the Roses. Richard goes on to have several children, two of whom will eventually become king—but enough of that. I won’t spoil it for you.
Watch Henry VI Part One this summer! With warfare, witchcraft, and good-old-fashioned family drama, you’ll be on the edge of your seat. It’s a thriller that moves us ever closer to the conclusion of Shakespeare’s history cycle.
(And if you forget anything, take a look at this family tree– we won’t tell. It’s your own little cheat sheet!)
Why Shakespeare Rewrote History
By Kathryn Neves
The lineup of plays this season at the Utah Shakespeare Festival is looking to be one of the most exciting yet— especially with the continuation of the History Cycle. Henry VI Part One is a play you may not get the chance to see elsewhere, and it’s sure to be powerful with master director Henry Woronicz, and star actors like Geoffrey Kent, Jim Poulos, Tracie Lane, and John Ahlin. But with this play comes one important question— why is it so different from what really happened?
Shakespeare is notorious for rewriting history to fit his dramatic needs. Combining characters, omitting important events, and making up iconic scenes in the hopes of boosting the drama of the story all work together to create plays more founded in fiction than fact. For instance, Henry VI Part One contains one of literature’s most iconic and exciting scenes— the plucking of red and white roses, initiating the start of the infamous War of the Roses. It’s a tense, striking scene that sparks the brutal wars of the next few plays. It’s because of this famous scene that we call the conflict the War of the Roses. So what makes this scene really amazing is that it probably never happened.
There is absolutely no evidence that either side ever plucked colored roses during an argument. On the contrary, the Yorkist white rose and the Lancastrian red were heraldic badges worn by either side. Shakespeare’s political flower-picking was really only a metaphor for the noblemen siding with their closest kinsmen. Before Shakespeare, no one thought much of the red and white roses. They were just pieces of the heraldry, nothing more.
Why make up an entire scene? Why didn’t Shakespeare just write what really happened? Wasn’t historical accuracy important to him at all? Well, no. At least, probably not. Shakespeare was, first and foremost, an entertainer; second, a propagandist for the English state. And in his day (and in ours, too), a powerful, visual scene was much more exciting than watching actors just talk over their political leanings. Though, of course, there’s plenty of that in Shakespeare too.
The rose-picking scene isn’t the only thing Shakespeare changed. The role of Joan of Arc, the maid of Orléans, is wildly different in Shakespeare’s play than in the real history. And why is that? Well, that can be answered in one word: propaganda. Shakespeare changed certain characters and events to reflect more favorably on the English crown and the State religion: in this case, both. By villainizing Joan of Arc, Shakespeare was promoting English Protestantism and also justifying the crown’s execution of her.
For the huge number of historical plays that Shakespeare wrote during his lifetime, very few of them tell the real story. But all in all, that’s okay. We watch a Shakespeare play to be entertained and to learn about the human spirit. And in both of these pursuits, the Bard is extremely accurate. So come enjoy Henry VI Part One this season. You might learn something new— but, of course, take all the history with a grain of salt.
The Merchant of Cedar City
By Kathryn Neves
Since the very first year of the Utah Shakespeare Festival, audiences have fallen in love over and over again with Shakespeare’s “dramedy” The Merchant of Venice. It’s an appealing love story wrapped around a complex, fascinating study of religious and social tensions. And because of its popularity, the Festival has produced it a number of times! From fun and farcical to deep and complex, this play has evolved in its Cedar City productions over the years; and this year is perhaps more eye-opening and groundbreaking than ever before. Breaking down barriers between gender, race, and traditional vs. progressive theatre techniques, Melinda Pfundstein’s production of The Merchant of Venice is bound to be stunningly powerful. But before you see it this summer, take a look at our previous productions!
1962
The Festival’s first production of The Merchant of Venice in 1962
In the very first season of the Festival, The Merchant of Venice was an obvious choice. With its themes of religious tension and persecution, this show has always been a Utah favorite. According to the July 19, 1962 edition of the Iron County Record, the production was immensely successful: “Despite threatening weather, overflow crowds attended performances of . . . The Merchant of Venice.”
Of course, back in 1962, it was a very different production than what you might see today. Festival Founder Fred C. Adams stated in 1975 that “we were working with a totally inexperienced company with temporary settings and with limited time. We played the story as a romantic comedy which I now feel was something of a cop-out . . . an easy way around what I feel to be the message of the play. It was the best we could do with the time, settings, and experience level with which we had to work.”
Director: Fred C. Adams
Antonio: Gary Magnuson
Shylock: Drew Moren
Portia: Gaylynn Sherratt
1968
Only six years later, the play was back by popular demand: as Adams stated, “Festival audiences have already enthusiastically endorsed The Merchant of Venice.” And as audiences evolved, so did the production. This time around, Shylock’s story of revenge and hatred was much more important than the romance between Bassanio and Portia.
Director: Brian Hansen
Antonio: Gene L. Eugene
Shylock: Richard C. Jamieson
Portia: Ellen Matthews
1975
Margaret Bongiovanni (left) as Portia and Paul Craggs as Bassanio in 1975
In the seventies, in the midst of reshaping racial relations in the United States, The Merchant of Venice was more relevant than ever before. Adams, in a 1975 edition of Utah Holiday magazine, stated that “to the audience, the play may be a warning to Americans that compassion must prevail. . . . We need to be reminded this summer that narrow definitions of man’s relationships will not survive. Shakespeare was telling us this over 300 years ago.”
Interestingly, this was produced in the first season after a balcony added onto the then in-progress Adams Shakespearean Theatre.
Director: Fred C. Adams
Antonio: Lon Huber
Shylock: Sam Tsoutsouvas
Portia: Margaret Bongiovanni
1983
According to director Margaret Hahn, the next production of The Merchant of Venice was all about harmony and understanding in a time of contention. “The action of the play concerns itself with the struggle for an ideal of harmony: in love, in friendship, in family bonds and religious bonds within the reality of a changing new mercantilistic world. . . . Even though Portia professes the law of mercy and love here, her actions quickly become merciless in their rigidity to that law. Shylock is guilty, but we have seen the betrayals and hypocrisies that have poisoned him.”
Director: Margaret Hahn
Antonio: Henry Woronicz
Shylock: James Edmondson
Portia: Katherine Moore
1992
The 1992 production focused on values and ideals— the way that characters clash because of what they believe in, whether religious, moral, or practical in nature. As stated in the director’s notes, “Shakespeare’s kaleidoscopic display of virtues and vices is crucial to the meaning of The Merchant of Venice. These blatant contradictions bring to life characters which otherwise would be mere abstractions in the world of the play. We recognize their humanity because of the unresolved conflicts within their souls.”
Director: Eli Simon
Antonio: George Judy
Shylock: William Leach
Portia: Deanne Lorette
2000
Anthony De Fonte (left) as Shylock and Richard Thomsen as Antonio in 2000
Following the last several productions, the 2000 version of Merchant delved even deeper into Shylock’s complex character and fluid standing between hero and villain. From Ina Marlowe’s director’s notes: “The humanity and empathy that always flowed from [Shakespeare’s] pen makes Shylock too complex to be dismissed, too eloquent to be ignored. Shylock no more represents all Jews than Antonio all Christians, yet Shakespeare’s story sees even the oppressor destroyed by the world his hatred creates. Generations of anger, blame, and degradation combust, and the verdict of the court brings ‘justice,’ but no peace.”
Director: Ina Marlowe
Antonio: Richard Thomsen
Shylock: Anthony De Fonte
Portia: Kathleen McCall
2006
From prolific and powerful director J.R. Sullivan: “We must encounter the Merchant, the Lover, the State of Grace, and the Jew anew. The so-called ‘problems’ of the play become the center of its complications and life. Once again, ‘the form and pressure of the time’ is unpacked with the trunks that contain the old play.” This production brought us even closer to understanding both the differences and the similarities between Jews and Christians in a world full of religious tensions.
Director: J. R. Sullivan
Antonio: Michael Sharon
Shylock: John Pribyl
Portia: Sara Kathryn Bakker
2010
Gary Neal Johnson (left) as Antonio and Tony Amendola as Shylock in 2010
In the Festival’s most recent production of Shakespeare’s masterpiece, a renowned actor, Tony Amendola, brought a complexity, humanity, and realism to Shylock in a way that stunned and amazed audiences. From a review in Salt Lake City Weekly, July 14, 2010, Dan Nailen wrote that “the tension between Christians and Jews in The Merchant of Venice isn’t the sole focus of the play, but it does have a massive influence on the plot, thanks to the boiling hatred between Shylock . . . and Antonio. . . . While Shylock is clearly the villain, Amendola fleshes him out in such a way that the audience can feel sorry for him as his world collapses around him.”
Director: Sharon Ott
Antonio: Gary Neal Johnson
Shylock: Tony Amendola
Portia: Emily Trask
Did you see any of these productions over the years? Tell us what you remember via our Facebook or Twitter feeds: #merchantusf
Bookends of Villiany
Lisa Wolpe as Shylock
By Kathryn Neves
From Puck to Prospero, Cordelia to Cleopatra, Shakespeare’s heroes light up pages and stages across the world. And as for the villains, Shakespeare’s close look into their motives and their actions reveal complicated, realistic characters such as the world has never seen. Truthfully, the villains can be more compelling than their heroic counterparts. And nowhere is that more true than this season at the Utah Shakespeare Festival. This year, two of Shakespeare’s most infamous villains take the stage— the bitter Jewish moneylender Shylock, and the jealous, manipulative ensign Iago. By creating villains that stand practically opposite each other, Shakespeare explores the spectrum of evil with all its complexities and contradictions.
The difference between Iago and Shylock can be stated very simply; it’s the nature/nurture debate. Is evil born, or does it arise out of circumstances? Well, according to Shakespeare, both. Iago, with very little motivation or reason, takes pleasure in destroying the lives of the people around him. His evil seems to be born; there’s really no reason for him act as nefariously as he does. Iago hates Othello; without any real provocation, he destroys Othello’s life.
Shylock, on the other hand, is trapped in a terrible circumstance, surrounded by bigotry, hatred, and prejudice, he has no choice but to grow bitter and hardened as a way to protect himself. He has so much justification in his evil actions that often, audiences sympathize with him more than they do Antonio. His villainous actions are a response to the years and years of cruelty that he has received at the hands of the Venetian Christians. After seeing him downtrodden, spit upon, and mocked consistently, we can understand and sympathize with Shylock, even in his villainy. Not so with Iago.
Often, people claim that Iago is a psychopath. One of the primary signs of psychopathy is a lack of empathy. This certainly holds true for Iago. He shows no remorse, no kindness, and no understanding to any of the victims that he pursues. While he may act innocent and honest in front of the other characters, it is clear that Iago can’t or won’t make connections with the people around him.
Shylock, however, is the complete opposite. One of Shakespeare’s most famous speeches comes in act 3, scene 1 of The Merchant of Venice. “Hath not a Jew eyes?” Shylock asks. “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?” Shylock shows clear signs of empathy and understanding, to the point that he pleads with others to empathize with him and all members of his race. Continuing on, we see that Shylock genuinely cares for his loved ones. When Jessica runs away with Lorenzo, he is distraught; when he sees that his wife’s ring has been stolen, he is heartbroken. His relationships with his loved ones matter to him, while we can see that Iago cares nothing for anyone around him—not the trusting Othello or even his own wife Emilia.
Perhaps even more telling is the way that they carry out their evil plots. Shylock is direct: he has one goal, and that is to go after Antonio. He doesn’t hurt anyone else in the process: only the person who has wronged him. Not only that, but he goes after Antonio with blunt honesty—he doesn’t hide any of his emotions or his intentions from the merchant. Iago, too, has one victim in mind, Othello; but unlike Shylock, Iago doesn’t care who gets in his way. He doesn’t care who else he hurts, so long as he can get his revenge on Othello. Iago destroys Roderigo, Cassio, Desdemona, and Emilia in his plot to bring down his nemesis. Not only that, but rather than going about it honestly, Iago tricks the people around him into hurting each other. Iago’s villainy is a web of deceit, manipulation, and sadism.
It’s no wonder, then, that audiences in every time and place have found sympathy with Shylock’s plight and nothing but disgust and hatred for Iago. It’s clear that Shakespeare wanted us to understand Shylock—he even wanted us to like him, to some extent. Shylock’s lines and language are direct, honest, and heartfelt, while Iago’s lines are full of lies, arrogance, and disgustingly explicit language. Iago was crafted as the archetypal villain—pure evil—while Shylock is a villain who is startlingly real.
Looking at these two characters, it’s clear that evil is complicated. You might say that some are born evil, some achieve evil, and some have evil thrust upon them. Evil can be both psychopathic and sympathetic. That’s why Shylock and Iago have endured the test of time as some of Shakespeare’s strongest characters: they show us the different extremes of evil. By watching them, we can come to understand just how complicated and human the quality of evil really is.