Director's Note

Julius Caesar was written at a time of deep political uncertainty. The queen at the time had not produced a child. The question of the inheritance was on the lips of the people of London. The nation was wrought by factions, suspicion and plot, all vying for influence. Writing a play about killing the ruler was unthinkable, and could lead to your own death. So Shakespeare, as he often does, turns his gaze to Italy, but this time to Ancient Italy, and writes a play where it might be a good idea to kill a king. The country this production takes place in is facing existential questions about its future, domestically and internationally. It is my hope that this play asks you to think about turning points in history, how power manipulates and what the future of democracy looks like.

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Julius Caesar is a strange play: the title character is only in 3 scenes, the culmination of the conspiracy is before intermission and a character who barely speaks before the third act defines the second half of the play; oh, and there is a ghost. When I first approached this play, I thought the play was exploring what political violence changes in the makeup of a nation, about how rhetoric shapes a populus and the ways in which we construct worldviews to justify obscene actions. As the process has developed, another play has revealed itself to the company and team: one of a young man bound by a need to do the right thing for his nation, driven to do something obscene and then reckon with the consequences.
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Directing this play in a country where political violence has risen in recent years has demanded that I think deeply about the changes to the body politic when political violence occurs. It has also required empathy to believe that those I disagree with, and those who do terrible things, truly believe that they are doing what will be best for this nation.