24 minute read
Funded by visionary philanthropist Roe Green the University Theatre will undergo renovation
via CU Boulder Today, additional reporting by Becca Vaclavik
Last September, University of Colorado alumna, arts aficionado and philanthropist Roe Green announced she would provide a record-breaking $5 million gift to the CU Boulder Department of Theatre & Dance. The largest portion of Green’s gift, $2 million, will support an acoustic overhaul of the current University Theatre space. Colorado Shakespeare Festival audiences will recognize it as our indoor venue, where we are presenting All’s Well That Ends Well and Coriolanus this season.
Built in 1904, the building was originally constructed as the campus library and helped define the historic Norlin Quadrangle. With the last major renovation over 30 years ago, once-new elements of the theatre’s architecture and equipment are now out of date. New structures and equipment will allow for better acoustic performance and noise control, creating a more immersive audience experience.
To recognize Green’s generosity, the university will change the name of the University Theatre to the Roe Green Theatre. After a period of renovations set to kick off this fall, the theatre is expected to formally reopen under its new name in the fall of 2023.
The architect selected for the renovation, Architectural Workshop, is a Denver-based firm that emphasizes a team approach to its design. Their work previously has been honored for excellence in historic renovation, including in performing arts venues.
Green is one of CU Boulder’s largest arts donors to date, having previously established the Roe Green Theatre Artist Residency Program and the theatre department’s first endowed faculty chair. Outside of CU, she has given gifts to name the Roe Green Center for the School of Theatre and Dance at Kent State University. She also funds the Roe Green Traveling Masters Program, a national education program on the craft of stage writing produced by the New York City-based Dramatists Guild Foundation.
Professor Bud Coleman, the Roe Green Endowed Chair in Theatre, has worked with Green for almost 20 years to address the needs of the CU Department of Theatre & Dance.
“She is more than a fairy godmother; she is our celebrated alumna, beneficent donor and lifelong friend,” he said.
“Acoustics are such an important part of enjoying the language of Shakespeare, and this remodel will make an already wonderful venue an even better place to experience live theatre,” added CSF Producing Artistic Director Tim Orr.
Green continues to support CU Boulder and other theatre programs around the country because of her strong belief in the power of storytelling.
Image rendering by Architectural Workshop
By William Shakespeare Directed by Carolyn Howarth
Artistic team
Director Carolyn Howarth+ Scenic Designer David J. Castellano^ Costume Designer Meghan Anderson Doyle Lighting Designer Shannon McKinney^ Sound Designer Jason Ducat^ Dance / Movement Choreographer Erika Randall Dramaturg Amanda Giguere Voice and Text Coach Jeffrey Parker Stage Manager Paul Behrhorst* Assistant Stage Manager Kaylyn Kriaski*
+ Member, Stage Directors and Choreographers Society ^ Member, United Scenic Artists
* Member, Actors’ Equity Association, the Union of Professional Actors and Stage Managers in the United States
Cast
DUKE, father to Silvia Kevin Rich* VALENTINE, a gentleman of Verona Walter Kmiec* PROTEUS, a gentleman of Verona Sean Scrutchins* ANTONIA, mother to Proteus Karen Slack THURIO, rival to Valentine Christian Ray Robinson EGLAMOUR, agent for Silvia in her escape Troy Coleman HOST, where Julia lodges Lucinda Lazo SPEED, servant to Valentine Jacob Dresch* LAUNCE, servant to Proteus Gary Alan Wright* PANTHINO, servant to Antonia Logan Ernstthal* JULIA, beloved of Proteus Shunté Lofton* SILVIA, beloved of Valentine Anastasia Davidson LUCETTA, waiting woman to Julia Chloe McLeod COSIMO Kyle J. Lawrence CRAB Mabel and Zebulon OUTLAWS Karen Slack, Chloe McLeod, Logan Ernstthal*, Lucinda Lazo, Kyle J. Lawrence VERONA EXTRAS Troy Coleman, Anastasia Davidson, Kyle J. Lawrence, Lucinda Lazo, Kevin Rich*, Christian Ray Robinson MILAN EXTRAS Lucinda Lazo, Chloe McLeod, Karen Slack SWINGS Landon Tate Boyle, Matara Hitchcock UNDERSTUDIES Troy Coleman, Jacob Dresch*, Kyle J. Lawrence, Lucinda Lazo, Chloe McLeod, Kevin Rich*, Christian Ray Robinson, Karen Slack
Sponsors
• Alpine Hospital for Animals • Hazel’s Beverage World • Wright Water Engineers • Elevations Credit Union • Martin/Martin Consulting
Engineers
Director’s note
Look for The Hook. That’s the first thing I do with a play. Before I get involved with actors and designers, I look for The Hook: the thing in the story that really grabs me on a personal level. In this play, I found it right there in the first speech. It’s that fierce, lifelong friendship between Valentine and Proteus. These guys are young, but their friendship feels old, like it stretches back to childhood, school days, first crushes, heartbreaks, failures and successes (the agonies and the ecstasies, as it were). I have a friendship like that. It’s been a long, rich, rewarding trip, but there have been times—I’m sure she’d agree—when the road has been… rocky.
As our play begins, we catch the eponymous Two Gentlemens’ friendship on the brink of its first real crisis: separation. Facing that dilemma is a huge first step on the path to maturity. Do I venture out into the world and make my way? Or do I stay home and claim my spot? And what happens to our friendship?
We faced it too, my dear friend and I. Like Valentine, I chose to leave my hometown for college, travel, career, new horizons. My friend chose to stay home and made an equally distinct life there, as the proverbial pillar of her community. And just as we feared, the bond was broken. We got busy. We drifted. Feelings were hurt. We both had a lot of growing up to do. But then, years later, a tragic event brought us back together, the bond re-formed, and now we feel more like family than friends. To paraphrase Dr. King, the arc of friendship is long, but it bends (if it doesn’t break) toward love, acceptance, wisdom…
Proteus and Valentine certainly have some adventures in this play. They both fall in love. Go out on their own. Meet new people and forge new relationships. One even becomes something akin to a pirate, for goodness’ sake! And their bond is tested. Big time. They, too, have a lot of growing up to do. But ultimately, despite profound betrayal and a breach of trust, they find forgiveness. And I like to hope that it’s this forgiveness—maybe the most supreme act of maturity—that propels them forward to love, acceptance and wisdom.
Oh, and did I mention there’s a bit with a dog? —Carolyn Howarth, director
Lifelong best friends Valentine and Proteus must part ways. Valentine leaves home in Verona to pursue a life of adventure in Milan, accompanied by his servant Speed, while Proteus stays behind to be near his beloved Julia. After Valentine’s departure, Proteus’ relatives encourage him to follow his friend and make something of himself in Milan. Proteus and Julia say their goodbyes, but not before sealing their engagement with a ring and a solemn oath. Joined by the clownish Launce and a canine companion named Crab, Proteus departs for Milan.
In Milan, despite earlier pronouncements against love, Valentine is unexpectedly smitten with the Duke’s daughter Silvia. She’s engaged to her father’s favorite, Thurio, but secretly agrees to wed Valentine. When Proteus arrives in Milan, however, he also becomes infatuated with Silvia, forgetting his loyalty to Julia and Valentine. Proteus betrays his best friend by revealing Valentine and Silvia’s clandestine elopement plans to the Duke, which results in Valentine’s banishment and Silvia’s confinement. With Valentine out of the way, Proteus attempts to win Silvia over. Meanwhile, Julia disguises herself as a male page (“Sebastian”) and arrives in Milan. Proteus hires “Sebastian” to woo Silvia on his behalf.
Silvia flees captivity in search of Valentine, with her father and her two unwanted suitors, Thurio and Proteus, in swift pursuit. Silvia is captured by a group of exiled outlaws in the forest, then “rescued” by Proteus, who attempts to take Silvia by force. The banished Valentine, now the newly minted leader of the outlaws, intervenes to protect Silvia. Valentine first denounces his friend, then, at Proteus’ remorse, forgives him. Julia reveals herself, and Proteus’ love for her is restored.
The Duke forgives Valentine’s deception and approves of the marriage to Silvia. At Valentine’s request, the Duke permits the banished outlaws to rejoin society. All enemies are reconciled, friends forgiven, and relationships are (mostly) restored. —Amanda Giguere, dramaturg
“...were man but constant, he were perfect.”
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, one of Shakespeare’s early comedies, tackles a subject that has intrigued philosophers for centuries and continues to dominate sitcoms, pop songs and blockbuster films today: friendship.
Ancient Greek philosophers wrestled with the concept of friendship, or philia (love) and attempted to codify the various bonds between humans. Guest friendship (xenia), for example, was the sacred bond established between guest and host, involving hospitality and gift exchanges. Guest friendships were passed down through generations, and violating xenia could lead to chaos and destruction. Ideal friendship (teleia philia), according to Aristotle, was a perfect union between equals, only available to virtuous men.
Ancient Roman philosophers took up this topic as well. Cicero’s writing on friendship (De Amicitia) suggests like-mindedness (concordia) as a key component of friendship. Just as the Greek word for friendship means love, the Latin word (amicitia) also originates in love (amor). Perfect friendship (amicitia perfecta), which was only possible between intrinsically good men, was rare, precious and valued even above marriage.
In early modern England, a high priority was placed on male friendships, largely influenced by Classical thinking. As in Greek and Latin, the English word “friend,” from the Old English “freond” means “to love.” English translations of Cicero and Aristotle would likely have been included in a schoolboy’s education. French philosopher Michel Montaigne considered friendship in a 1580 essay, echoing once again the classical idea that friendship was a perfect union only possible between men.
Let’s be honest: a perfect union between equally virtuous gentlemen does not exactly seem like the stuff of comedy, so why does Shakespeare put friendship center stage? The Two Gentlemen of Verona, it turns out, is less a play about perfect friendship than a play about friendship between imperfect people.
Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman, co-authors of the 2020 book, Big Friendship, define friendship as a “strong, significant bond that transcends life phases, geographical locations and emotional shifts.” According to Sow and Friedman, a defining factor of friendship is “making the decision to invest in one another again and again.”
As you watch the play tonight, consider how Classical and Renaissance thinkers defined friendship, yet pay attention to the bonds of love represented in the play that transcend these definitions: the ties between parents and children, the strength of female alliances, and the wordless love between humans and animals (I’m looking at you, Crab). May we all appreciate the strange ways we are connected, the miraculous bonds we form with others, and the ways in which friendship—in its messy, complicated and imperfect glory—is still rooted in love. —Amanda Giguere, dramaturg
By William Shakespeare Directed by Wendy Franz
Artistic team
Director Wendy Franz Scenic Designer Kevin Nelson Costume Designer Clare Henkel^ Lighting Designer Katie Gruenhagen Sound Designer Jason Ducat^ Dance / Movement Choreographer Erika Randall Fight Choreographer Benjamin Reigel Dramaturg Amanda Giguere Voice and Text Coach Mare Trevathan Stage Manager Christine Rose Moore* Assistant Stage Manager Teresa Gould*
^ Member, United Scenic Artists
* Member, Actors’ Equity Association, the Union of Professional Actors and Stage Managers in the United States
Cast
COUNTESS of Roussillon, a recent widow Kathleen Turco-Lyon* BERTRAM, Count of Roussillon, her son Ryan Omar Stack HELEN, the Countess’ young gentlewoman Madison Taylor RINALDO, steward to the Countess Topher Embrey LAVATCH, a clown in the Countess’ household Benjamin Reigel* PAROLES, companion to Bertram Matthew Schneck* KING of France Brik Berkes* LAFEU, an old French lord Gareth Saxe* LORD G., elder of the Dumaine brothers, a French lord at court Topher Embrey LORD E., younger of the Dumaine brothers, a French lord at court Christian Tripp Four LORDS, at the French court Jihad Milhem*, Benjamin Reigel*, Sam Sandoe, Griffin Nielsen DUKE of Florence Sam Sandoe WIDOW, of Florence Jessica Robblee* DIANA, daughter of Widow Ilana DeAngelo MARIANA, neighbor to Widow and Diana Jo Hoagland FIRST SOLDIER, acting as interpreter (also called Morgan) Jihad Milhem* SERVANT, to Bertram Jo Hoagland GERARD de NARBONNE, Helen’s late father Sam Sandoe ATTENDANTS to the King Jo Hoagland, Jessica Robblee* SOLDIERS Griffin Nielsen, Gareth Saxe*, Sam Sandoe SWINGS Sarah Duttlinger, Jordan Pettis UNDERSTUDIES Ilana DeAngelo, Topher Embrey, Jo Hoagland, Jihad Milhem*, Griffin Nielsen, Jessica Robblee*, Sam Sandoe, Christian Tripp
Sponsors
• Alpine Hospital for Animals • Hazel’s Beverage World • Wright Water Engineers • Elevations Credit Union • Martin/Martin Consulting
Engineers
Director’s note
“The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.” —Lord G.
Upon my first reading of All’s Well That Ends Well, I was delighted to meet some of Shakespeare’s wittiest leading ladies, and I was fascinated by how the play examines the transition of power from an older generation to the next and the trials the younger generation must endure in order to learn life’s important lessons before they can assume that power.
When I spoke with colleagues and friends who know the play, the variety of strong reactions to All’s Well… were intriguing. Many write it off because they find Bertram’s actions irredeemable. Some are disturbed by the bed trick. Scholars over centuries have decried Helen’s sexually liberated agency. All of these condemnations made me more curious to understand why the characters do the things they do. What insight do we lose when we condemn someone before we’ve taken the time to understand their perspective?
The play explores the different rates at which men and women mature from adolescents to adults, the ways in which parents try so hard to set their children up for success even as the children yearn for the freedom to make their own mistakes, and the way these experiences speak to the difference between appearance and the true character of a person.
There are myriad things I love about this play. It is very funny. Characters with wildly different viewpoints engage with each other in civil discourse. The characters are complex and contradictory, like people in real life—they have secrets, long to find their place in the world, and struggle to live up to others’ expectations.
All’s Well That Ends Well is ultimately a journey from grief and youthful ignorance to joy and maturity. The case can be made that All’s Well … contains elements of the best Shakespearean comedies: Multigenerational families are reunited; troublemakers who urged separation and strife are exposed; there is a war in the background; there are spirited battles of wits and wills between the sexes; it has not one but two fools; and there is a classic Shakespearean gulling scene.
As a director, my charge to serve the story demands that I find empathy for all of the characters in the play, not just the ones I find admirable. I have to embrace the complicated, messy truth of each character in order to tell the story of the play and ask the challenging questions: When we hurt those we love, how do we do the difficult work of reconciliation? When we cause harm or cross a line, how do we move forward and do better? —Wendy Franz, director
In Roussillon, a family mourns the recent deaths of its patriarch and its household doctor. The doctor’s daughter Helen, who has been raised in the household, is adopted by the widowed Countess of Roussillon. The Countess’ son Bertram, now the King’s ward, departs for Paris, where the King is dying. Helen, who is secretly in love with Bertram, follows him to Paris, carrying a cure for the King’s disease.
Helen heals the King and, offered a reward, chooses to marry Bertram. Despite Bertram’s refusal, the King insists on the marriage. Privately, Bertram swears he’ll never bed Helen until she bears his child and obtains his ring—both things he’ll never give her. Bertram goes to war in Florence, accepting a post as Captain of the Horse under the Duke of Florence.
Helen departs under the guise of a pilgrimage but instead follows Bertram to Florence. She finds lodging with a local widow and her daughter, Diana, whom Bertram is pursuing dishonorably. Helen develops a plan; Diana will agree to rendezvous with Bertram at midnight in exchange for his ring, but Helen will swap places with Diana. Helen also spreads false news of her death abroad.
Meanwhile, the Lords Dumaine propose to expose Bertram’s friend Paroles as a coward. Disguised as enemy soldiers, they capture, blindfold, and interrogate Paroles, who immediately reveals information about the Duke’s army, disparaging Bertram and the Lords. They remove his blindfold and Paroles is humiliated.
The war ends; Bertram returns to France, full of regret about Helen’s death. He agrees to a second marriage, arranged by his mother and the King. Before the wedding, troubling questions arise: Bertram presents a ring of Helen’s he shouldn’t have, arousing suspicion; Diana arrives, accusing Bertram of seduction and abandonment, producing his ring as proof; and Helen appears, pregnant with Bertram’s child, explaining she was the “Diana” he slept with in Florence. Recognizing she’s accomplished the impossible tasks he demanded of her, Bertram promises to love her “ever, ever dearly.”—Heidi Schmidt and Amanda Giguere, dramaturgs
Embracing ambiguity in All’s Well That Ends Well
All’s Well That Ends Well’s history has been plagued by uncertainty—more than most Shakespeare plays. Historians can’t quite agree on when Shakespeare wrote the play or when it was first performed. It was not published until the 1623 First Folio, and that version contains enough errors and inconsistencies that it’s not entirely reliable, as scripts go.
Critics have debated the play’s genre, and opinions about the central characters have varied widely by era and by critic. It’s classified as a comedy in the First Folio and includes many elements of classical comedy: disguises, pranks, mistaken identity, witty wordplay, journeys and homecomings, deaths and rebirths, separations and reunions, mistakes, and (for the lucky ones) redemption. So what’s the problem? Some scholars feel the play dabbles into subject matter too serious for a comedy, or that the tone isn’t quite festive enough, or that the actions and language of the central female character are too “indelicate” for a virtuous woman. One Victorian scholar even invented a new genre, the “problem play,” or a play that’s more interested in a social problem than in adhering to the confines of dramatic genre. (The term isn’t used much anymore; most of Shakespeare’s plays paint outside genre lines.)
Scholars have often taken issue with the characters and their choices. Historically, they’ve often taken sides—Team Helen or Team Bertram—offering justification and forgiveness for one, but condemnation for the other. Prior to the 20th century, uncertainty about who to cheer for was seen to demonstrate an artistic failing on the playwright’s part rather than an exploration of moral complexity.
And then there’s the ending. When the words “all’s well that ends well” are spoken by characters in the play, they’re often accompanied by qualifiers—if, yet or seems. In the final lines of the play, the King of France announces:
It looks like a happy ending, he seems to be saying, but he can’t quite tell yet. Maybe in the next scene (if we had another one) we could be sure. The King of France is asking for more information, more discussion, before he fully understands what happened and whether it constitutes a happy ending. Shakespeare seems (another qualifier—they’re contagious) to be posing a question about his own resolution. I don’t presume to know what Shakespeare intended, but I choose to interpret this conditional language as permission. Both characters have erred and (we hope) learned from their mistakes. It’s up to us to decide whether their ending is happy and whether the play ends well. —Heidi Schmidt, dramaturg
By Lauren Gunderson Directed by Rodney Lizcano
Originally commissioned and produced at the Denver Center Theatre Company A division of the Denver Center for the Performing Arts (Kent Thompson, Artistic Director)
Subsequent Rolling World Premiere produced by Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival, Garrison, New York (Davis McCallum, Artistic Director; Kate Liberman, Managing Director)
THE BOOK OF WILL is presented by special arrangement with Dramatists Play Service, Inc., New York
Artistic team
Director Rodney Lizcano Scenic Designer David J. Castellano^ Costume Designer Meghan Anderson Doyle Lighting Designer Shannon McKinney^ Projections Designer Garrett Thompson Sound Designer Jason Ducat^ Dance / Movement Choreographer Erika Randall Dramaturg Heidi Schmidt Voice and Text Coach Jeffrey Parker Stage Manager Paul Behrhorst* Assistant Stage Manager Kaylyn Kriaski*
^ Member, United Scenic Artists
* Member, Actors’ Equity Association, the Union of Professional Actors and Stage Managers in the United States
Cast
HENRY CONDELL Kevin Rich* JOHN HEMINGES Walter Kmiec* RICHARD BURBAGE / WILLIAM JAGGARD Gary Alan Wright* ALICE HEMINGES / SUSANNAH SHAKESPEARE Shunté Lofton* BOY HAMLET / HORATIO Kyle J. Lawrence BARMAID / FRUIT SELLER / MARCELLUS Chloe McLeod BEN JONSON Logan Ernstthal* ELIZABETH CONDELL / EMILIA BASSANO LANIER Karen Slack REBECCA HEMINGES / ANNE HATHAWAY SHAKESPEARE Anastasia Davidson ED KNIGHT / ISAAC JAGGARD Sean Scrutchins* RALPH CRANE / FRANCISCO Jacob Dresch* MARCUS / BERNARDO Troy Coleman COMPOSITOR / SIR EDWARD DERING Christian Ray Robinson CRIER Lucinda Lazo ENSEMBLE Troy Coleman, Jacob Dresch*, Chloe McLeod, Logan Ernstthal*, Kyle J. Lawrence, Lucinda Lazo, Christian Ray Robinson, Sean Scrutchins* SWINGS Landon Tate Boyle, Matara Hitchcock UNDERSTUDIES Troy Coleman, Anastasia Davidson, Jacob Dresch* , Logan Ernstthal*, Kyle J. Lawrence, Lucinda Lazo, Chloe McLeod, Christian Ray Robinson, Karen Slack, Gary Alan Wright*
Sponsors
• Alpine Hospital for Animals • Hazel’s Beverage World • Wright Water Engineers • Elevations Credit Union • Martin/Martin Consulting
Engineers
Director’s note
What would our world look like without the words of William Shakespeare? A world without the literary works we know as Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Richard III or King Lear? I would be hard pressed to find any avid theatregoer, especially a Shakespeare aficionado, who could imagine a world without Shakespeare’s words. But that’s where we find ourselves in this fictional retelling of a “what if” scenario in the play that is The Book of Will.
I will confess to you that Shakespeare and his plays have had a huge impact on my personal and professional life. This play, to me, has become in many ways the ultimate “love letter” to all actors, theatregoers and acting companies who love Shakespeare’s work as much as I do.
What I love most about this play are the additional names we learn from Shakespeare’s world and his band of theatre members: John Heminges, William Condell, Ed Knight, Ralph Crane, William and Isaac Jaggard— all names you may not have heard of before but were crucial individuals who led the charge to preserve Shakespeare’s work. When we begin this play, Shakespeare has been dead for three years and his brethren continue to mourn him. But what comes after death? While this play is about Shakespeare, its plot laser focuses on a grand problem: How do we preserve Shakespeare’s work? How can we honor our friend? How do we keep his language alive?
The undertaking of compiling a first folio of an entire canon of plays seemed an insurmountable task which required action, desire, fortitude and—like all great plays—presented tangible obstacles. I am excited to present this new story about William Shakespeare and the journey it took to collect, produce and print what we now know as The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.
As you will see in tonight’s performance, doing so was not an easy task. I ask you, the audience, to continue to consider, “what if….”
I’m thrilled to share and celebrate this new work with you. To Will! —Rodney Lizcano, director
It’s 1619, Shakespeare has been dead three years, and the surviving members of his company (Richard Burbage, John Heminges and Henry Condell) have just endured a truly abysmal performance of Hamlet. They bemoan the bastardization of their dear departed friend’s play at John’s bar, the Globe Tap House, while playwright and poet laureate Ben Jonson attempts to flirt with Alice Heminges, alewife and John’s daughter. Burbage delivers an impromptu performance of Shakespeare’s greatest hits, then exits the bar. The next morning, they learn Burbage has died in the night. Alice, John, Henry, and their wives Rebecca and Elizabeth are horrified to realize that many of Shakespeare’s plays may have died with Burbage and his prodigious memory. After Burbage’s funeral they hatch a plot to collect Will’s plays and publish them together in one volume.
They soon discover the immense challenges facing the project. Despite the handful of actor sides (incomplete scripts) buried in corners of their homes and a few scripts in the possession of Ralph Crane, the company’s scribe, many of the plays exist in unauthorized (and unreliable) quartos or not at all. Ed Knight, the company’s prompter (and script-keeper), reminds them how many scripts were lost in a fire at the Globe a few years ago. There’s not enough money, they don’t have rights, and no one will print it—except William Jaggard, the hated, unscrupulous printer who’s made a career of stealing Shakespeare’s work. (His son, Isaac, promises fidelity to the words of his favorite playwright.)
As they struggle to get the book printed, the intrepid team faces new challenges, strange bedfellows and unimaginable personal losses. The stakes grow higher to preserve the plays of their dear friend Will, whose words give voice to their rage, bring a little light when the world grows dark, and provide solace when life offers none. —Heidi Schmidt, dramaturg Most historical events seem inevitable in hindsight. This is one of the great challenges of writing about history—do you try to make the audience forget they already know the ending? Or embrace it and focus on why and how things played out as they did? In The Book of Will, playwright Lauren Gunderson explores the human relationships that motivate the history at the center—the first printing of Shakespeare’s collected works in 1623. We know the First Folio (as it came to be called) was, in fact, printed. Many of us took photos with one a few years ago when the Folger Library toured a few copies throughout the US and stopped in Boulder. We know that if it hadn’t been printed, about half of Shakespeare’s plays would have been lost (including All’s Well That Ends Well, The Two Gentlemen of Verona and Coriolanus—there goes our season).
This immensely influential book, however, was improbable, at best.
• Printers had some rights to what they published; writers had none. Printing just made it easier for other companies to steal your words and your ticket sales. Royalties, copyrights and author permission would take several centuries to become normalized. • Printing was a laborious process. Each letter was selected and placed by hand, word by word and line by line. Each page was brushed with ink, then hand-pressed on blank paper. Repeat this process for 900 pages, 750 copies. • Paper and printing were expensive, especially in folio. (A folio is a large format book, reserved for weighty subjects like religion—not plays. A quarto is a cheaper, smaller format, like a dime store paperback.) • Early 17th century London was a primarily oral culture.
Londoners went to the theatre to hear a play rather than to see one. The citizens of London had large vocabularies but comparatively low literacy rates. Book ownership was uncommon outside the gentry. • Theatre lives in the performance of it, in a group of humans sharing space and stories. It’s easy to forget in a time with so many options for documentation, but in 1623, it required an act of imagination and hubris to translate the ephemerality of theatre to the printed word.
Printing the plays to preserve them for future generations seems obvious to us, but the deck was solidly stacked against Shakespeare’s friends and colleagues. The obvious choice was to not print the book. Which invites the question: What project are you avoiding because it seems impossible? How might the world change if you push forward and do it anyway?
Want to learn more? Check out folger.edu/shakespeare/first-folio —Heidi Schmidt, dramaturg
