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Twelfth Night (March 10-13, 2006)

William Shakespeare's Twelfth Night was produced in PW's downstairs space in the spring of 2006. It was directed by James Rutherford '07.

It was performed March 10-13, 2006.


Images © Andrew Evans. All Rights Reserved.


The Duke of Illyria: Andrew Fox '06.5
His Servant: Adam Mazer '08
A Countess of Illyria: Blanche Case '06
Her Steward: Austin Campion '06.5
Her Jester: Lizzie Vieh '07
Her Chambermaid: Katie Hunt '07
Her Uncle: Dan Hernandez '06
A Knight, her Uncle's Friend: Aaron Cutler '08
A Lady of Messaline: Charlotte Graham '07
Her Brother: Doug Benedicto '08
A Pirate, her Brother's Friend: Owen McDougall '07
A Sea Captain, an Officer, a Priest: Albert Huber '09

Production Staff

Director: James Rutherford '07
Composer: Alex Clifford '06
Lighting Designer: Justin Spiegel '08
Set Designer: Daniel Rogers '08
Costume Designers: Janet Minichiello '07, Xephyr Zanzabar RISD '07
Sound Designer: Andrew Brindamour '09
Props Designer: Emma Lipkin '08
Production Manager: Briel Steinberg '06
Stage Manager: Amanda Glassman '08
Technical Directors: David Bloom '08, Pete Fallon '09
Assistant Stage Managers: Alicia Coneys '09, Sonya Wyrobek '07
Fight Choreographer: Chris Bremner '06
Build Crew: Alex Rosenthal '08, Jesse Cohen '07, Aaron Cutler '08, Briel Steinberg '06, Blair Nelsen '06
Electrics Crew: Brian Christian '06, Sonya Wyrobek '07, Dan Rogers '08, Matt Gelfand '08, Alex Lubensky '09, Kait Stanhope '08, Jono Spiro '06, Alana Jacoby '08, Garland McQuinn '05.5, Allison Grubbs '09, Alex Rosenthal '08
Stage Managing Mentor: Blair Nelsen '06
PW Board Liaison: Alana Jacoby '08
Poster Design: Pete Fallon '09

Director's Note

“What's in a name?” — Romeo & Juliet II.ii.47

The comic premise: a lady, shipwrecked off the coast of a strange country, finds herself so grief-stricken that she begins to impersonate her dead brother. Now, a name is probably the most dangerous thing for a woman alone, so our plucky heroine takes the sensible route and simply does without hers, fashioning herself as a him, half-formed, Cesarean-like (as from his/her mother's womb untimely ripped). This could be of little consequence, but though by any other name a rose would smell as sweet (and a nose as well), this play is a play about violets. This is a melancholiac's music-glutted daydream, the product of an obsessive love punctuated with the banality of everyday sadness: a missed opportunity, a misspoke phrase, a linked gaze across a room too quickly broken. These are the bricks out of which we build our comedy — the trifling sorrows that keep us sane and laughing. Is there any other way to live? We don't even know our leading lady's name, but the play had just as soon be lost for names as words, for to dally with a name is to make its letters dance, tickling our intellects into enough laughter to drown out the most hideous of sobs. So it comes that, as a representative of the fortunate-funny and the passing-unhappy, I welcome you with smiles and bid you enjoy our play.

— M.O.A.I.

shows/twelfth_night.txt · Last modified: 2013/12/21 02:00 (external edit)
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