Show Talk on "As You Like It" for the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival, 27-28 June 2013


“‘Far Out, Man’: As You Like It and the Summer of Love”

Hello, everyone and welcome to the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival’s 21st season production of As You Like It. If you are a regular attendee of the Show Talk at the festival, you have not seen me before! More than likely you were expecting to see either the very entertaining Philip blue owl Hooser, who normally would be giving the Show Talk during the first two weeks of the festival, or the unparalleled Felicia Londre, who will be giving the Show Talk for the second half of the festival, beginning on Saturday evening and running through to the closing night performance on July the 7th. However, starting tonight, Phil’s talents were needed elsewhere, since he is performing in Death in the Dustbowl, a production with the Murder Mystery Train Dinner Theatre.

So, who am I? My name is Thomas Canfield, and I am an instructor of Theatre, Humanities, and English at UMKC and National American University. I earned my Ph.D. in English, with a focus on Elizabethan drama, from the University of Louisiana in 1998. Right now, I am attending UMKC while finishing a second master’s degree in Theatre History. I also have been the Dramaturg for the last seven summer productions at the Shakespeare Festival, including this year’s production.  The next question most people ask is: “What is a dramaturg?” Well, with different theatres and different types of theatrical productions, a dramaturg’s duties and responsibilities may vary. He or she is essentially a literary consultant or advisor. A dramaturg may do textual work with a script; he or she may research the world of a play to assist the director, designers, and the actors in finding pathways into it and making artistic choices; a dramaturg might even research, compile, and write program materials for the audience members who attend the production.

With the Shakespeare festival, I typically attend some rehearsals and run-throughs, and follow along in my copy of the script that Sidonie Garrett, the Executive Artistic Director, cuts and prepares before our first day of rehearsal. If anyone on the production team wants me to do any specific research, or any member of the cast has questions about their role that require some kind of research, I will go off to the library, see what I can find, compile it into a dramaturgical note, and then bring an answer back to them the next day. While in rehearsals, as a literary person, I pay attention to the iambic pentameter of the lines while we are running through them and I also try to listen for the proper pronunciation of words. I always have a dictionary, a Shakespeare lexicon, and a pronunciation guide for the names in Shakespeare’s plays with me.  Of course, a lot of directors, designers, and actors are not accustomed to always having access to a dramaturg, so they do have experience doing their own research–but they may not have the time to do so when a question arises in the middle of a busy rehearsal schedule. And sometimes the questions I am asked simply do not have an answer, and the company member who asks me just wants confirmation of that fact.

At other times, I might be asked to research an obscure question or topic. For Romeo and Juliet, I spent two days researching 14th century Italian Catholic funeral rituals, which never did eventually get used in the final production. For Othello, I researched the “blood brothers” ritual that we used in one scene between Othello and Iago. Historical plays often need more in-depth research than others. For Richard III, I was asked to research Richard’s line about “French nods” to see what Shakespeare might have meant. And sometimes, my answers are just best guesses and not definitive. Last year, for Antony and Cleopatra, I spent several days researching the ankh, which is sort of like an Egyptian cross with a loop at the top: what it meant as a symbol to the ancient Egyptians and how it should be held, which I was able to determine by looking at hundreds of images of ankhs in Egyptian artwork. But perhaps the most visible contribution that many dramaturgs make as far as audience members are concerned is in the form of a program essay. I do write a program essay for the Shakespeare Festival every year, although sometimes, because of page limitations and the need for advertising space, it doesn’t always make it in. This year, however, it is–even though I did have to cut it down somewhat for length from the original version that I wrote.

If you’ve already been over to the other side of the park and seen the stage for As You Like It this summer, you know that this year’s production is somewhat unique for us in that, instead of locating the world of the play in a traditional setting, we have taken it and made it “groovy” by transferring the action to 1967. Instead of seeing our performers costumed in brocade doublets, hose and codpieces, you should be prepared for a psychedelically-visual treat—or nightmare—depending upon your opinion about fashion and style in the late 1960s. We have Dayglo colors, shirts with wide collars, paisley vests, bell-bottomed blue jeans, gypsy skirts, bandanas, silver turquoise belt buckles, love beads, and even some go-go boots–with period go-go dancing to go along with them.

So, why did we do this, and what is the rationale behind transferring As You Like It to 1967? Well, we haven’t lost our minds completely this summer. In fact, ours is not the first “hippie” production of the play, although ours is certainly unique in its own right. Several productions have, in fact, conceived of and set the play in the “swinging sixties,” going back at least to a 1997 production of As You Like It at the Public Theatre in Brighton, Massachusetts. Historically, the summer of 1967 is also known as “Summer of Love,” and while the major theme of all of Shakespeare’s comedies is love, As You Like It explores various types of love relationships to a greater extent than any other.

In the summer of 1967, as many as 100,000 people converged on the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco, initiating a major cultural and political shift that would come to be known as the Hippie Revolution. As the epicenter of this revolution, San Francisco became an experimental melting pot for politics, psychedelic music, psychoactive drugs, creativity, uninhibited sexuality, and social liberation. In contrast, many of the conservative people in society–those people whom many hippies would have referred to as “squares” because of their inside-the-box thinking–viewed this revolution from the outside and were led to question their lifestyles and the choices they had made. As You Like It opens at the court of Duke Frederick, a conniving and suspicious ruler, and Shakespeare portrays his court is a very repressive and confining place marked with dark plots and behind-the scenes intrigue. No one at the court can be trusted, and no one is truly free to pursue his or her own personal happiness. Just as many of the young people who came of age in the late 1960s were suspicious of the government and anyone who was an authority figure, in our play, the more enlightened and socially-conscious citizens who live under Duke Frederick’s rule are not happy with the way things are.

Duke Frederick has stolen the throne from Duke Senior, his elder brother, and driven him into exile in the Forest of Arden. In 1960s lingo, Duke Frederick is “the man;” he lives in an isolated, selfish world of his own, out of touch with the rest of society, and his court would represent “the establishment,” where black suits with narrow ties are the height of fashion, and three-martini lunches and cocktail hours are commonplace. The order of the day at court is maintaining the status quo and obedience to the rules, however artificial, arbitrary and meaningless those rules may be. In the opening scene of our production, we even witness some 1960s-style protesting, complete with signs and chanting, against the duke’s iron-fisted grip on his power.

In the forest, however, for the exiled Duke Senior and his followers, banishment turns out to be a liberating experience. Transplanted to an idyllic woodland environment, free from arbitrary rules and laws and surrounded by Mother Nature’s bounty, they enjoy a life without any real demands or hardships. It essentially is a commune. When the Summer of Love came to an end, thousands of hippies joined the back-to-nature movement, heading “back to the land” and founding what is estimated to have been ten thousand alternative, egalitarian farms all across the United States. Renouncing the labels of society and rejecting consumerism, they sought to create a liberated existence in harmony with nature. Shakespeare’s play is classified as a pastoral comedy, and the courtiers, like many hippies who participated in the back to the land movement, found a counter-urban Utopian society. Away from the rigid schedules and demands of the rat race at court, the Forest of Arden is a place where they have the leisure time to discover, as Duke Senior terms it, “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, / Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.”

Back at court, when Duke Frederick, suddenly and without explanation, banishes Rosalind, the daughter of Duke Senior, she and her cousin Celia, his daughter, also flee to the woods. Disguising themselves as brother and sister and adopting the names of Ganymede and Aliena, the two young women, accompanied by the court clown Touchstone, also get back to nature. They establish residence in a cottage on the edge of the forest and purchase a flock of sheep, which are tended to by the rustic shepherds Corin and Silvius. Corin, the elderly shepherd, extols the natural, honest virtues of a country life by stating, “I am a true labourer. I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness; glad of other men’s good, content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck.”

The play also features another set of brothers who are at odds with each other, the mean-spirited Oliver and his younger brother Orlando. When Orlando learns of a plot by his older brother to murder him, he also takes refuge in the countryside, but only after he has fallen hopelessly in love with Rosalind. And eventually, Oliver follows him. Once our production goes into the forest, we never again return to the confines of the court, and this physical journey that the courtly characters make into the natural environment becomes a transformational experience for all of them in one way or another.

The “back to nature” movement of the 1960s also contained an environmentalist strain and many of its members were concerned about the ecological damage and future of the world.  Rachel Carson’s influential book titled Silent Spring, about the detrimental effects of pesticides on the environment, was published in 1962 and is widely credited with helping launch the modern American environmental movement. Counterculture environmentalists of the 1960s were concerned about overpopulation, pollution, litter, and the limited availability of natural resources. And, in at least two instances, As You Like It, also expresses concerns about how the humans interlopers negatively impact the pristine, natural world of the forest when they enter it. Jacques, the melancholy follower of Duke Senior, laments the killing of the deer in the forest by the Duke’s men, calling the hunters “mere usurpers,” and “tyrants,” because they “fright the animals” and “kill them up / In their assigned and native dwelling-place.” When Orlando arrives in the forest, the love-smitten young man carves Rosalind’s name into the bark of the trees and hangs poorly-penned verses of love from their branches. Expressing the depth of his emotion, Orlando says, “O Rosalind, these trees shall be my books, / And in their barks my thoughts I’ll character, / That every eye which in this forest looks / Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere. / Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree / The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she!” Again, it is the character of Jacques who expresses concern for the environment, which is probably just as much motivated by his distaste for Orlando’s amateur verses. He says, “I pray you sir, mar no more trees with writing love-songs in their barks.”

For the flower children of the Summer of Love who engaged in this huge social experiment, the ideals of peace and love were antidotes to what they perceived to be the social and political ills of the time. In contrast to the social and political turmoil that plagues the court, Shakespeare portrays the forest as a relatively peaceful place. During their stay in the woods, the characters have an opportunity to debate the relative merits of several subjects that interest them, including court and country, youth and old age, inner virtue and the gifts of fortune, reality and romance, the active and contemplative life, and laughter and melancholy. Although suffering, violence, and danger do exist in the woods in the form of hunger, unpredictable weather, and wild animals, no one dies in the play and there is only minimal, offstage bloodshed.

But what about the “love” aspect of peace and love? In the 1960s, by rejecting what they viewed as traditional, one-sided morals and values, the hippies made alternative lifestyles, such as “free love,” more accepted. While the romantically-involved characters in Shakespeare’s play actually do marry at its conclusion, so there is technically no “free love” involved, the unions that are formed before the end take on many different guises. Touchstone, for example, woos and marries Audrey, a simple country wench, with the objective of satisfying his immediate lustful desire; the two characters have absolutely nothing in common, and even before they wed, he indicates that he may quickly abandon her. Certainly if the concept of “free love” were around and accepted at the time, Touchstone would have taken advantage of it. Other unions seem more grounded in promise, but as the title suggests, As You Like It is intended to suit a variety of romantic tastes and demonstrates a spectrum of different relationships. In some ways, it resembles like a Shakespearean version of The Dating Game, the popular television show that first aired in 1965. In affording his characters the liberty to seek out their own happiness and to obtain what they truly desire, Shakespeare also allows individual audience members to choose from a variety of attitudes and preferences about love relationships, whether romantic, optimistic, or cynical.

The modern movement toward gender equality–women’s lib as it was called then, and feminism today–also had roots in the 1960s. As a character, it could be argued that Rosalind is Shakespeare’s most liberated female character. She certainly is his most prominent heroine, speaking more lines in this play than any other female character in all of his works. Cross-dressing as a man when she enters the forest liberates Rosalind from traditional female roles and stereotypes. This is something that Shakespeare does in other plays as well, but in As You Like It, Rosalind goes further than that. She becomes a truly sexually-ambivalent character when, disguised as the young man Ganymede, Rosalind convinces Orlando to submit to a type of therapy for his lovelorn state. This cure involves Orlando pretending that Ganymede is Rosalind; Orlando must visit the “young man” periodically and woo the youth. Imagine that you were in Shakespeare’s original audience: a male actor would have been playing the role of a female character who masquerades as a male, but who then pretends to be a female. Because Rosalind is the play’s driving figure, traditionally her role has been considered as the lead throughout history. In contrast, many leading male actors have chosen to play the role of Touchstone or Jacques rather than Orlando who, as a character, is really sort of overshadowed by her strength as a character and her manipulation of him. In other words, she truly wears the pants in their relationship!

Of course, another remarkable aspect of the sixties was the revolution in music that took place, and because As You Like It contains so many songs, the play offered our composer, Greg Mackender, many opportunities to set the words of Shakespeare’s songs to music that was evocative of the period. The work that Greg does is always impressive, but because I haven’t heard him do anything quite like this before, I was really amazed. Of course, he uses instruments that evoke the period, such as electric guitars and sitars, but the most remarkable aspect about the music is how well Shakespeare’s lyrics can be transformed into folk music that sounds like it was written 50 years ago, rather than 400 years ago. And I am sure that you will agree. It is far out, man!

Because the festival is a family-oriented event and we want everyone to come, we made the artistic choice to omit some of the other less legal activities that were common in the hippie counterculture of the 1960s in our interpretation of the play, even though I am sure it might have gotten a few gratuitous laughs. In fact, in some of those other productions that I was talking about, directors have made the choice to have the performers, for example, pretending that they are smoking marijuana on the stage, although we did not.

In the end of the play, Shakespeare ties up all the loose ends and everything falls into place. All of the characters in As You Like It who get back to nature are transformed by their experience, and most of them for the better, perhaps showing the real meaning of the term “flower power.” When they enter the forest, Duke Frederick and Oliver, the two “stuffed shirts” who sought the destruction of their respective brothers, resolve to abandon their former plans and live out the rest of their future lives quite differently. After Orlando saves his life, Oliver and his younger brother are reconciled, and then Oliver then falls in love with Celia and they marry. Oliver plans to bequeath the family estate to his younger brother and spend the remainder of his life as a humble shepherd. Likewise, Duke Frederick also abandons his own tyranny after setting out to capture his elder brother in the forest. He has an abrupt religious conversion and decides to live out a life of solitary contemplation far away from the seat of power; he also restores Duke Senior to his rightful throne. In many ways, perhaps a conclusion such as this also echoes the optimism of the 1960s, as reflected in things as the space program and the feeling that anything could be accomplished through social agitation and protest.

Program Essay for "As You Like It"


And Thereby Hangs a Tale
by Thomas Canfield, Dramaturg

Considered to be one of Shakespeare’s mature comedies, As You Like It is also one of his most beloved crowd-pleasers. The central action of the play unfolds in a woodland realm inhabited by shepherds and shepherdesses, a setting that places it in the pastoral tradition. Love, as in all of Shakespeare’s comedies, is the play’s major theme, but As You Like It explores various types of love to the greatest extent. Rosalind, its principal character, is also Shakespeare’s most prominent heroine; as the play’s driving figure and a manipulator of love relationships, she speaks more lines than any other female character in all of his works.

In contrast to many of Shakespeare’s comedies, As You Like It does not feature an elaborate or intricate plot. Instead, it is a character-driven play constructed around opposing and complementary figures, many of which are arranged in pairings or symmetrical groupings. The story begins at the court of the usurping Duke Frederick, a conniving and suspicious ruler who has driven the former sovereign, Duke Senior, his elder brother, into the Forest of Arden. Meanwhile, two other siblings, the mean-spirited Oliver and his younger brother Orlando, are also at odds. Learning of a plot to murder him, Orlando takes refuge in the countryside, but only after he has fallen hopelessly in love with Rosalind, the daughter of the exiled duke. When Duke Frederick banishes Rosalind from court, she and her cousin Celia, his daughter, also flee to the woods. Disguising themselves as brother and sister and adopting the names of Ganymede and Aliena, the two young women, accompanied by the court clown Touchstone, establish residence in a cottage on the edge of the forest and purchase a flock of sheep, tended by the rustics Corin and Silvius.

In practice, their exile offers the courtiers a reprieve rather than a punishment. Transplanted to the bucolic environs of the forest and liberated from the dark plots and intrigue that thrive in the artificial world of the court, they enjoy an unburdened, fairy-tale existence that is free from any real hardship. Although suffering, violence, and danger do exist in the woods in the form of hunger, unpredictable weather, and wild animals, no one dies in the play and there is only minimal, offstage bloodshed. Surrounded by Mother Nature’s bounty, the courtiers discover “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, / Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.” Against the unfettered backdrop of this counter-urban Utopia, the characters leisurely debate the relative merits of several subjects: court and country, youth and old age, inner virtue and the gifts of fortune, reality and romance, the active and contemplative life, and laughter and melancholy. The play’s humor stems from witty philosophy rather than low comedy.

Love takes on many guises in this play, and several of the characters are drawn from familiar stock types that Elizabethan audiences would have readily recognized. As the romantic, courtly lover, Orlando carves Rosalind’s name into the bark of the trees in the forest and hangs poorly-penned verses of love from their branches. When Orlando encounters Rosalind disguised as Ganymede, the “young man” convinces Orlando to submit to therapy for his lovelorn state: Orlando must pretend that Ganymede is Rosalind and woo the youth. As representatives of unrequited love, Silvius and Phebe typify the adoring, rejected swain and the scornful shepherdess. Touchstone, seeking to satisfy his lustful desire, employs worldly wit to dispatch William, a rustic bumpkin, so that he may freely woo Audrey, a simple country wench. Finally, Celia and Oliver fall hastily in love at the play’s conclusion after Orlando saves Oliver’s life and the brothers are united. Other character types include Adam, the faithful, elderly family retainer and Jacques, the melancholy, world-weary traveler who weeps over a dying stag.

This is a theatrical play in many ways, as shown in Duke Senior’s comparison of the world to a “wide and universal theatre,” and Jacques’ famous speech beginning with, “All the world’s a stage / And all the men and women are merely players.” In the Epilogue, the actor playing Rosalind steps out of character and directly addresses the audience on the subject of love, dissolving the boundaries between fantasy and reality. When Rosalind encounters her father in the forest, we are supposed to believe that even he cannot see through her disguise. The theatrical irony of her deception would not have been lost on Shakespeare’s original audience: a male actor would have been playing the role of a female character who masquerades as a male, but who then pretends to be a female. A treat for the visual and aural senses, As You Like It also includes a spectacular wrestling match, several songs, and a quadruple wedding celebration overseen by Hymen, the classical god of marriage.

A master manipulator throughout the play, Rosalind, like a theatre director, is instrumental in orchestrating its uncomplicated resolution in which everything falls conveniently into place. After wedding Celia, Oliver plans to bequeath the family estate to Orlando and spend the remainder of his life as a humble shepherd. Duke Frederick also abandons his former tyrannical nature; after setting out to capture his elder brother in the forest, he undergoes an abrupt religious conversion and restores Duke Senior to his rightful throne. In the end, as the title suggests, As You Like It is intended to suit all tastes and can be whatever one wants it to be. Shakespeare gives his characters the liberty to seek out their own happiness and to obtain what they truly desire, while also allowing individual audience members to choose from various attitudes towards love, whether romantic, optimistic, or cynical.

2013 English-Speaking Union Regional Shakespeare Competition in Kansas City, MO


In the spring of 2013, I was asked by Dan Bukovak, president of the English-Speaking Union's Kansas City branch, to participate as one of three judges in the area's regional Shakespeare competition. I was joined by my friends and colleagues Sidonie Garrett, Executive Artistic Director of the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival, and Carla Noak, a very talented professional actress and director who teaches in the Theatre department at UMKC.

The English-Speaking Union National Shakespeare Competition is a performance-based education program in which high school students nationwide read, analyze, perform and recite Shakespearean monologues and sonnets.  Through the program, students develop communication skills and an appreciation of the power of language and literature.  In three progressive competition levels, students present the Bard’s works in their own schools, at ESU Branch sponsored community competitions and at the National Shakespeare Competition.  


Prior to the event, over 125 Kansas City-area high school students had participated in ESU Shakespeare competitions at their schools. Fourteen school winners from the Kansas City metro area participated finalist competition I judged. Each student performed a monologue and a sonnet by Shakespeare.

The winner was 
Wyatt McCall, a student at Olathe Northwest High School in Olathe, Kansas, who performed a monologue from King Richard III and recited Sonnet 61. 
He will go on to represent the Kansas City branch as a semi-finalist at National competition at Lincoln Center in New York City.  Gabrielle Rehor, a senior from Shawnee Mission Northwest High School, Shawnee, Kansas, won Second Place and Joshua Nastasi, a senior from Center High School, Kansas City, Missouri, won Third Place. 

Here are some photos of the winners, and a photo of a celebratory dinner afterwards:


Program Essay for "Death of a Salesman" at the Kansas City Repertory Theatre, 18 January-10 February 2013



“Riding on a Smile and a Shoeshine”
by Thomas Canfield

In the decade after World War II, Arthur Miller transformed American theatre with such powerful plays as All My Sons (1947), Death of a Salesman (1949), The Crucible (1953), and A View from the Bridge (1955). The same year that Death of a Salesman–widely regarded as Miller’s masterpiece–premiered on Broadway, it was recognized with a Tony Award for Best Play, a Drama Critics’ Circle Award, and a Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The play’s initial run of 742 performances illustrates the tremendous response it received from audiences of the day; the fact that it has been revived four times on Broadway, earning three Tony Awards for Best Revival, is a testament to the play’s endurance. In the 21st century, Death of a Salesman continues to speak to audiences that, like those in the late 1940s, are still searching to achieve the elusive “American Dream.”

The son of Polish-Jewish immigrants, Arthur Miller (1915-2005) was born into comfortable circumstances in the Harlem section of Manhattan. However, the failure of his father’s coat manufacturing business in the 1929 Wall Street Crash had a profound impact on the young man. In 1932, as an aspiring, seventeen-year-old writer, Miller penned “In Memoriam,” a brief memoir about a salesman named Schoenzeit who worked for his father. In it, Miller recalls an experience one morning when he carried Schoenzeit’s coat samples across town. “His was a salesman’s profession,” Miller writes, “if one may describe such dignified slavery as a profession, and though he tried to interest himself in his work he never became entirely molded into the pot of that business.” Their brief, yet intense encounter led Miller to conclude that Schoenzeit, “felt as if his life were ended, that he was merely being pushed by outside forces. And though his body went on as before, the soul inside had crumpled and broken beyond repair.” On the day following their encounter, Schoenzeit committed suicide by throwing himself in front of an elevated railway train.


Miller and the Transformation of Tragedy

Death of a Salesman distinguishes itself as a tragedy about a common man. Miller experimented with the form of classical tragedy, but with a critical difference. In his essay “Tragedy and the Common Man” (1949), Miller argued against the Aristotelian principle that that tragedy is “fit only for the very highly placed, the kings or the kingly” by positing that “the common man is as apt a subject for tragedy in its highest sense.” Contrary to classical dramatic tradition, Miller believed that any character willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to achieve a sense of personal dignity and justice is a suitable subject for tragedy; thus, the “commonest of men may take on that stature to the extent of his willingness to throw all he has into the contest, the battle to secure his rightful place in the world.” Although the privileged person is the chosen subject of tragedy throughout history, Miller instead argued that it is actually the common man who is most familiar with the fear of being displaced, or of suffering the destruction of the fragile image of what and whom he is. The ultimate fate of Willy Loman (“Low-Man”), the tragic hero in Death of a Salesman, arouses just as much emotion in contemporary audiences as the noble Oedipus, for example, precisely because the illusions, anguish, failures, and tense family relationships surrounding a 63-year-old salesman from Brooklyn are more recognizable and keenly felt. Since the average person can identify with Willy Loman, we are moved by his tragic fate with an intensity that is equal to–perhaps even greater than–that evoked by the downfalls of kings or princes.

The contemporary post-war setting of Death of a Salesman gives the tragedy much of its poignancy. However, in many ways it is also an expressionist play in which the physical landscape of the stage reflects Willy’s inner psychological turmoil and sense of societal displacement. Miller’s original title for the play was The Inside of His Head, and his initial concept for the stage setting was an enormous face that would appear and then open to reveal the interior of a man’s head. The ultimate set design created by Jo Mielziner for the first production was quite different, but it still reflected the central character’s psyche: the set included a “small, fragile-seeming home” that was “partially transparent,” dreamlike, and surrounded by “towering, angular shapes” of apartment buildings enveloping it on all sides. As a tangible, outward symbol of the American Dream, this house represents Willy’s life: his sales career, his hard work, his devotion to his family, and his hopes. When the play opens, his burden of paying off a 20-year mortgage on the house is almost at an end, but inexorable changes in the outer world have encroached upon and overshadowed this once-optimistic dream, suffocating and devaluing it. “The way they boxed us in here. Bricks and windows, windows and bricks,” Willy says, “There’s not a breath of fresh air in the neighborhood. The grass don’t grow anymore, you can’t raise a carrot in the back yard.”

The passage of time in the play is another remarkable way that Miller combines classical and expressionistic elements. In chronological time, the plot, from beginning to end, dramatizes events that occur in a clearly identifiable time frame: Miller termed this as Willy’s “last day on the earth.” In making this dramatic choice, he adheres to the Aristotelian unity of 24 hours, a common feature of traditional Greek tragedy. Yet throughout the play, Miller experiments with what he called the “bending of time” as well. Through the magic of theatre we are transported, via Willy’s recollections, to 15 years earlier when two magnificent elm trees towered outside the Loman house, and lilac, wisteria, peonies, and daffodils bloomed in the sun. The play reaches into the interior of Willy’s fragmented, non-linear psychology and mental confusion to reconstruct these memories, which Miller described as “a mass of tangled roots without end or beginning.”  As to the way these memories play out on the stage, Miller insisted that, “There are no flashbacks in this play, but only a mobile concurrency of past and present, and this, again, because in his desperation to justify his life, Willy Loman has destroyed the boundaries between past and present.” Death of a Salesman’s often-overlooked subtitle, Certain Private Conversations in Two Acts and a Requiem, underscores the way that Willy’s mind, in a desperate and futile effort to comprehend how his past has led to his present circumstances, revisits, relives, and even reimagines events and people from his past, seemingly without a conscious choice.  These moments in time also give us the opportunity to reconstruct a series of events, from Willy’s perspective, that culminate in the play’s tragic conclusion.  


Miller as Social Critic

In addition to Miller’s transformation of our understanding of tragic form, he also calls into question the central tenets of an idealized American dream and the self-made man. The golden ideal of unlimited opportunity and financial success, rooted in the archetypical rags to riches Horatio Alger story, is inextricably linked to the American dream of upward mobility.  As Americans, we learn early on that adhering to the Puritan work ethic is the means of achieving any goal we desire and the ultimate means to happiness. Miller wrote: “The American idea is different in the sense that we think that if we could only touch it, and live by it, there’s a natural order in favor of us.”  Because we often derive our individual identity and personal dignity from the work we do, our inherent sense of self-worth is frequently linked to our professional success and financial security. Conversely, those who are unsuccessful can easily fall prey to “the law which says that a failure in society and in business has no right to live,” as Miller termed it. When we no longer have an occupation with which to identify ourselves, we are completely lost, which is why Miller defined tragedy as “the consequence of man’s total compulsion to evaluate himself justly.”  In his autobiography, Miller characterized the misguided notion of basing one’s personal worth on financial success, as embodied in Willy Loman, as a “pseudo life that thought to touch the clouds by standing on top of a refrigerator, waving a paid-up mortgage at the moon, victorious at last.”

Even though Willy’s profession is integral to his identity, we never learn precisely what he sells in the play. When asked, Miller only replied that Willy was selling “Himself.” In the end, believing that the life he has lived and all that he has placed his faith in are hollow, Willy does sell himself, which he views as his last asset–for a $20,000 life insurance policy.  “After all the highways, and the trains, and the appointments, and the years, you end up worth more dead than alive,” he says. His false belief that life is a popularity contest along the road to professional success and personal happiness are the causes of his downfall. Being “well liked” is Willy’s lifelong obsession, but only five mourners attend his funeral.

Audience response to the initial production of the play, starring Lee J. Cobb, showed how groundbreaking and powerful it truly was. Miller recalled that, during some performances, “there was no applause at the final curtain,” and “Strange things began to go on in the audience. With the curtain down, some people stood to put their coats on and then sat again.” Theatre critic Richard Watts noticed that male audience members were impacted most profoundly by Willy’s story: “Usually with a tragedy . . . the wives drag their protesting husbands along and the husbands have an awful time and the wives cry. But I saw again and again that it would be the husband who would be moved by Death of a Salesman. He would see something of himself in it.” “Some, especially men, were bent forward covering their faces, and others were openly weeping,” recalled Miller, “People crossed the theatre to stand quietly talking with one another. It seemed forever before someone remembered to applaud, and then there was no end of it.” The most concise reaction was expressed by one man, obviously a salesman; on leaving the theatre, he remarked, “I always said that New England territory was no damned good.” 

Thomas Canfield (Program Essayist) holds a Ph.D. in English, with a specialization in Elizabethan drama, from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, and is pursuing a second master’s degree in Theatre History and Dramaturgy at UMKC. In the past, he has contributed to Rep productions of King Lear, Gee’s Bend, and The Drawer Boy. At UMKC Theatre, he has provided dramaturgy for The Country Wife, Great Expectations, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. For the last six summers, he has been the dramaturg for the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival, most recently for the 20th anniversary season productions of Antony and Cleopatra and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He teaches Theatre, Humanities, and English at UMKC and National American University, and is a regular contributor to KC Stage magazine. Currently, he is writing a complete history of the first professional resident theatre company in Kansas City, the Circle theatre, which was located in Union Station from 1962-67.

"Postcards from the Past" Article for "KC Stage" Magazine (January 2013)


These two postcards depict the new Orpheum theatre, a 2,400-seat vaudeville house that opened on December 26, 1914. Located at 1212 Baltimore next to the Muehlebach Hotel, it was built by theatre manager Martin Lehman, who got his start in Kansas City in 1898 when he originally converted the popular Ninth Street Theatre into a vaudeville house and rechristened it as the Ninth Street Orpheum. The new Orpheum's façade was designed to resemble the Paris Opera House. Faced with terra-cotta to look like marble, it featured carved panels depicting art and music at the top of the building, above the words “DANCE,” “COMEDY,” “OPERA,” “MUSIC,” “DRAMA,” “TRAGEDY,” and “SONG.”

The lobby had a vaulted terra-cotta ceiling and a colored tile floor decorated in a mosaic pattern. A lounge for women, which featured maid service, was fitted with divans, lounging chairs, writing desks, telephones, and dressing tables. The auditorium’s domed roof was painted blue with artificial stars. The stage curtain, made of wire woven asbestos weighing approximately 1,200 pounds, was painted to resemble velvet. The back of the first postcard reads: “The most thoroughly perfected playhouse in the world. The switch which covers the electric system is the largest utilized in a theatre and capable of more than 7,000 lighting combinations. The stage is 100 feet long. This theatre cost one-half million dollars.” In 1962, the Orpheum was demolished to make room for an addition to the Muehlebach Hotel.

Thomas Canfield teaches Theatre, Humanities, and English at UMKC and National American University. He is currently writing a history of the first resident professional theatre company in Kansas City, the Circle theatre, which was located in Union Station from 1962-67.

Pre-release University Tour Screening of "Last Will. & Testament" at Tivoli Manor Square Cinema. 14 October 2012


Last Will. & Testament (First Folio Pictures, Inc.; 2012) is a documentary film directed by Lisa Wilson and Laura Wilson Mathias, who were script consultants on the Oscar-nominated motion picture Anonymous (2011). Their documentary, produced by Roland Emmerich (the director of Anonymous) is a companion to the previously-released film. 

Prior to the documentary's official U.S. premiere at the Austin Film Festival, Last Will. & Testament had two-week, pre-release university tour. Kansas City was lucky enough to be chosen as one of the few cities where an early screening would take place. Before the event, which was sponsored by UMKC Theatre and the English-Speaking Union, I was contacted by Lisa Wilson, who requested that I give a post-screening tribute speech to two Missouri authors who have questioned the authorship of Shakespeare's poems and plays: Mark Twain and Felicia Londré, Curators’ Professor of Theatre at UMKC and Dean of the College of Fellows of the American Theatre.

I was extremely pleased to be involved in the event. After the screening and my speech, I introduced Felicia and Lisa and then moderated a question and answer session. Later that evening, we went out to dinner, where we got to discuss the question in more depth. Lisa also requested a copy of my speech to post on the film's website, and I was happy to comply with her request.


Tribute to Mark Twain and Felicia Londré. Pre-Release University Tour of "Last Will. & Testament," 14 October 2012


Mark Twain and Felicia Londré: Missouri Authors United on the Shakespeare Authorship Question
by Thomas Canfield

Those of us here in the “Show-Me State” are known for both our common sense and our skepticism. And, as Last Will. & Testament so eloquently points out, Mark Twain, Missouri’s native son, was an outspoken critic of the traditional authorship attribution of Shakespeare’s works.  Anyone who has read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn should recall the great sport that Twain has with Shakespeare in it, especially through the guise of two con artists who pass themselves off as the King and the Duke. Shortly after these two scoundrels join forces with Huck and Jim, they decide to raise some funds in a small Mississippi river town by performing selected scenes from Romeo and Juliet and Richard III, along with a travesty of an encore piece cobbled together from some half-remembered lines of Hamlet’s famous soliloquy– and a few odd passages from Macbeth thrown in for good measure. When it came to the subject of Shakespeare, Twain was no stranger to preposterous interpretations.

But it was in another work, published 25 years later, that Twain clearly and unabashedly outlined his thesis that the man from Stratford could not have written the poems and plays attributed to him. In 1909, the year before his death, Twain published a book with the simple and arresting title Is Shakespeare Dead?1 This 150-page study demonstrates not only Twain’s tremendous knowledge of—and love for—the works; it also explains his real doubts about their authorship. In all fairness, it should be noted that Twain was not an Oxfordian; his book was published over a decade before J. Thomas Looney’s “Shakespeare” Identified in Edward De Vere, the Seventeeth Earl of Oxford (1920), the seminal work that first proposed De Vere as a candidate for the authorship of the poems and plays. However, this does not diminish Twain’s arguments for doubting Stratfordian tradition, nor does it invalidate the inconsistencies that Twain points out regarding what we know about Shakespeare the man versus what we see reflected in his literary and dramatic creations.

Separating the few undisputed facts of Shakespeare’s life from the long tradition of what he terms “‘conjectures,’ and ‘suppositions,’ and …‘rumors,’ and ‘guesses’” (23) that are the stock and trade of all Shakespeare biographies, Twain confesses that he is “quite composedly and contentedly sure” (50) that “Shakespeare couldn’t have written Shakespeare’s works” (14). Many of Twain’s arguments are identical to those highlighted in the film. Twain goes on to conclude that, in his own words,
The author of the plays was equipped, beyond every other man of his time, with wisdom, erudition, imagination, capaciousness of mind, grace and majesty of expression. Every one has said it, no one doubts it. Also, he had humor, humor in rich abundance, and always wanting to break out. We have no evidence of any kind that Shakespeare of Stratford possessed any of these acquirements. (116)

Twain describes the Shakespeare of tradition as a “fetish,” and remarks that, “whenever we have been furnished a fetish, and have been taught to believe in it, and love it and worship it, and refrain from examining it, there is no evidence, howsoever clear and strong, that can persuade us to withdraw from it our loyalty and devotion” (129).  He then says, “I haven’t any idea that Shakespeare will have to vacate his pedestal this side of the year 2209.  Disbelief in him cannot come swiftly, disbelief in a healthy and deeply-loved tar baby has never been known to disintegrate swiftly, it is a very slow process” (129-30).

Today, a little over one century later, we are in the presence of another prolific and respected Missouri author who is just as passionate as Twain about the authorship question. Like Twain’s journey to doubt, which he describes as a very gradual and studied process, Kansas City’s own Felicia Londré, Curators’ Professor of Theatre at UMKC and Dean of the College of Fellows of the American Theatre, admits that she was hesitant to even entertain the idea that anyone other than the man from Stratford could have penned the works. Felicia was happy with the traditional Shakespeare we had. She liked the Stratford legend; she didn’t really want to hear about alternative authorship theories. And, she admits that, when she began her quest, it was not with an entirely open mind, but rather with a reluctant curiosity and a highly critical attitude.   

Felicia began by reading Charlton Ogburn’s The Mysterious William Shakespeare: The Man and the Myth (1984), but it would take much more reading, research, and careful deliberation before she would make up her mind and “come out of the closet as an Oxfordian,” as she describes it. As a respected member of the academic community, this decision also involved courage on her part; when Felicia first began sharing the revelations and new meanings she was finding in the poems and plays, some of her closest and most revered colleagues warned Felicia that no one would take her work seriously and that her career as a scholar would be ruined. Obviously that has not happened, as demonstrated by the 60 scholarly articles, 25 journalistic publications, 100 book and theatre reviews, and 14 books that Felicia has to her credit today. Three of these books include Shakespeare Around the Globe: A Guide to Notable Postwar Revivals (1986), Shakespeare Companies and Festivals: An International Guide (1995), and Love’s Labour’s Lost: Critical Essays (1997).  Felicia also transformed her research on these books into opportunities to lobby for the creation of the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival in Kansas City, of which she is the Honorary Co-Founder.

After adopting the daring belief that the works were written by Edward De Vere, Felicia then had to support her position. She has been doing this since 1991 with a persuasive, meticulously-researched authorship lecture that she has taken on the road across the United States, as well as to Beijing, Budapest, Tokyo, and London. Next month, she will be giving it again, here in Kansas City on the campus of UMKC. Felicia’s riveting lecture is free and open to the public, so anyone who is interested in this fascinating “whodunit” should attend. For those in the “Show-Me State” who are hungry for more information about the authorship of the poems and plays, this will be another rare opportunity in our own backyard to obtain a wealth of excellent information to help make up their minds about this controversial subject.

Thomas Canfield has a Ph.D. in English from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, where he completed a dissertation on the plays of John Lyly. A writer of court plays for Queen Elizabeth, Lyly was one of the first English novelists, and Edward De Vere’s personal secretary for several years. Lyly dedicated his second novel to De Vere, and was employed by the Earl of Oxford to manage the acting companies that he sponsored. For the last six seasons, Dr. Canfield also has been the Dramaturg for the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival. Currently, he is pursuing a second master’s degree in Theatre History and Dramaturgy at UMKC, where he teaches Shakespeare and Foundations of Theatre. He is writing a history of the first professional resident theatre company in Kansas City, the Circle theatre, which was located in Union Station from 1962-67.

1Twain, Mark. Is Shakespeare Dead? From My Autobiography. New York: Harper and Brothers,
1909. Print.


The (un-)Usual Suspects (l-r): 
William Stanley, the 6th Earl of Derby; Queen Elizabeth; Christopher Marlowe; Sir Francis Bacon; Edward De Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford; and William Shakespeare of Stratford.



Edward De Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford


Shakespeare's known signatures.


"KC Stage" Spotlight Article on Felicia Hardison Londré (September 2012)


Spotlight on Felicia Hardison Londré
by Thomas Canfield

Kansas City is the home of a highly respected, world-renowned theatre historian, author, and educator whose encyclopedic knowledge of theatre–local, national, and international–is matched only by her palpable warmth, ardor, and enthusiasm for the subject. Felicia Londré, Curators’ Professor of Theatre at UMKC, is one of the great treasures of the theatrical community, not only because of her eagerness to share her vast expertise and genuine love of all things dramatic, but also for her fascinating career that spans several decades.

Unpretentiousness is a remarkably rare virtue in someone with Felicia’s abundant honors and accolades. Because she does not boast of her impressive accomplishments, even those who know her intimately might not realize what an interesting and varied life she has led. Born in Fort Lewis, Washington, she was a military brat who, along with her two sisters, lived all over the United States and later spent three years in England. At the time of her birth, Felicia’s father, Col. Felix M. Hardison, had just begun a career in the Army Air Corps. Already an acknowledged war hero, he would go on to become Air Attaché to Sweden and play an integral role in founding the Swedish Air Force.

An unconventional childhood led Felicia to take the road less travelled in her journey through higher education. Were she to write her memoirs, Felicia jokes that they would be titled A Long, Slow Learning Curve, but her divergent path undoubtedly unlocked life’s great possibilities and formed her cosmopolitan perspective of theatre as a universal art form that transcends cultural and disciplinary boundaries. Surprisingly, Felicia technically does not have a theatre degree. She graduated with a B.A. in French, with a minor in drama, from the University of Montana. A thirst for knowledge led her to complete her degree a year early, whereupon she spent a year abroad studying French drama on a Fulbright scholarship. Felicia subsequently earned an M.A. in Romance Languages, again minoring in drama, at the University of Washington in Seattle. By this time, she knew in her heart that she was destined for theatre and pursued this goal with characteristic energy and initiative.

An integral part of Felicia’s transition into theatre was directing two plays, in French, at the Penthouse Theatre, the first theatre-in-the-round in the U.S., located on the University of Washington campus. She was then awarded a doctoral fellowship in International Theatre at the University of Wisconsin-Madison where she completed a Ph.D. in Speech. “I was getting my doctorate in Theatre, but in those days, ‘theatre’ was still a dirty word,” she explains. “It was called the ‘Department of Speech’ because you didn’t say the word ‘theatre’ in higher education. Officially my Ph.D. is in Speech, but all my courses were in theatre.”

When there were no opportunities to direct in the University of Wisconsin theatre program, Felicia arranged to direct a play in the French department; this led to two more productions and greater opportunities. “One of my plays was Eugène Labiche’s The Italian Straw Hat in French, and it was such a success that the Theatre Department decided to do it on the main stage in English. Nobody wanted to direct it after me, so I was the first graduate student in Wisconsin history to direct on the main stage,” she recalls.

Prior to coming to Kansas City, Felicia spent six years as an instructor at a University of Wisconsin branch campus. “That’s where I learned how to teach,” she explains. Meanwhile, she directed, acted in, and designed costumes for several plays, although her efforts went largely unappreciated: “I was doing daring, avant-garde productions, the likes of which you would have seen in Paris in the 1920s, but nobody understood.” Three additional years heading a high-pressure, experimental theatre program at the University of Texas ended in disappointment when she wasn’t awarded tenure. “I liked Dallas because there was a lot of theatre,” she says, “but I didn’t publish much. I was concentrating on all kinds of other stuff. I had a contract for my first book, but I didn’t get tenure. And of course, when you don’t get tenure, it’s devastating. You feel as if the world is coming to an end.”

This tragedy was really a blessing in disguise for both Felicia and Kansas City. “Doesn’t fate work in mysterious ways? I think the saddest thing that ever happened to me was also the luckiest,” she remarks. Determined to move on, she frantically applied for teaching positions during the summer of 1978: “I saw this job at the University of Missouri-Kansas City, and saw it had the Missouri Repertory Theatre associated with it.” As fortune would have it–and unknown to her at the time–she already had an advocate in John Ezell, who had been her greatest mentor at the University of Wisconsin. Having worked as a designer for the Rep, John, who later would also become a Professor of Scenic Design at UMKC, recommended Felicia as a new hire.
  
Compared to the thriving metropolis of oil-rich Dallas, Kansas City in the late seventies appeared to be a rather old-fashioned backwater. Felicia’s first impression of UMKC was of “a sleepy little university in this sleepy, little-big city.” But the grace and charm of Dr. Patricia McIlrath, chair of UMKC Theatre and founder of the Missouri Rep, immediately won Felicia over: “She was an amazing person who had built a professional theatre from the ground up, starting at zero in a city that hadn’t had much theatre for a very long time. She had done it virtually singlehandedly, but she was never boastful. There was no ego about her. She was so outgoing, thoughtful, and other-people oriented. She was an instant mentor and friend. She was so nice, helpful, wonderful, and loveable to everyone–every actor at the Rep, every student, every faculty member. She was instant inspiration to anyone whose life she came in contact with.”

Dr. Mac’s unique talent for finding opportunities and nurturing individual talent led her to create a dramaturgy position at the Rep, and Felicia became one of the first full-time faculty members in the nation to have an officially-designated affiliation with a professional theatre. This position, which she held for 22 years, enabled Felicia to move beyond her academic theatre formation. Not only did she learn the ropes of professional theatre, but the support and freedom Felicia was given allowed her to discover her true calling as a theatre historian.

Today, Felicia’s distinguished credits include over 60 scholarly articles, 25 journalistic publications, 100 book and theatre reviews, and 14 books. She has written approximately 18 original plays and translated 11 more from Russian, Spanish, and French. An ambassador of theatre throughout the world, Felicia has travelled, lectured, conducted research, and attended conferences throughout Europe, as well as in Russia, Japan, and China. On one trip to Russia, she saw 26 plays in only 18 days! Every visit abroad has become an opportunity to bring the world of theatre back to Kansas City and to enrich the lives of her students.

In 34 years at UMKC, Felicia has taught a vast array of theatre and interdisciplinary courses. Today, she instructs a rotation of courses in world theatre history, specializing in American, French, Russian, 19th-20th century theatre history, and dramaturgy. Her lectures are accompanied by slides–many taken during her world travels–that bring theatre history to life. Whereas graduate students in most theatre programs are assigned a somber regimen of theory, Felicia’s students have the rare opportunity to read and discuss great plays.

The extra effort Felicia puts into making an impression on her students is just one of many qualities that makes her so special. Students are often surprised to receive gracefully-penned “thank you” cards for something they have done. Last spring, as a capstone to a French theatre history course, Felicia and her husband Venne, a French instructor at UMKC, held a French tea in their home. At the suggestion of a student, the attendees costumed themselves as their favorite figure from French theatre history. Felicia’s daughter, Georgianna, a professional costume designer, created a costume for Felicia modeled on the legendary photograph of Sarah Bernhardt in the role of Hamlet holding a skull. The Londrés also have a son, Tristan, who is an administrator at Metropolitan Community College, and six grandchildren.

Beginning in 1990, Felicia transformed scholarly research on two books, Shakespeare Around the Globe: A Guide to Notable Postwar Revivals (1986) and Shakespeare Companies and Festivals: An International Guide (1995) into opportunities to lobby for the creation of a Shakespeare festival in Kansas City. Twenty-two years later, as Honorary Co-Founder of the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival, she still presents a show talk before the performances in Southmoreland Park. An unabashed Oxfordian, Felicia admits that arriving at what many see as a radical conclusion on the authorship of the plays was the result of a reluctant process. “I was happy with the Shakespeare we had. I didn’t want to hear about it. I liked the Stratford legend,” she says.

At the prodding of her husband, Felicia agreed to read Charlton Ogburn’s The Mysterious William Shakespeare, albeit with a highly skeptical mind. “I read the whole 800 pages and said, ‘This is worth knowing about. There’s something here worth taking into consideration.’ It really shook up my ideas, but I wasn’t ready to commit.” She then read a biography of Edward De Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford. “It’s funny how you resist, you resist, you resist, and suddenly some trivial thing turns on a light bulb, and you say, ‘Okay, I give up. I accept.’ From then on, I was reading with a different point of view–more open-minded, looking at all the possibilities, but trying not to be too locked in too early,” she says.     

An earnest desire to share her revelations about the new meanings she was discovering in the plays met with a severe warning from her academic colleagues: “‘Don’t do this. You’ll ruin your career.  None of your work will be taken seriously if you keep pursuing this’,” Felicia recalls. In the end, however, she had to be true to herself as a scholar and acknowledge the preponderance of evidence. “It was rather daring that I came out of the closet as an Oxfordian!” she remarks. As a standard bearer for the cause, Felicia has been debating the authorship question since 1991. Each fall in Kansas City, she presents a persuasive, meticulously-researched authorship lecture, which she also has taken on the road across the U.S. and to Beijing, Budapest, Tokyo, and London. “How can any intelligent person not see?” she asks passionately. “Once you do the homework, if you take the trouble, it’s so obvious.”

Felicia’s other books include studies of individual playwrights, such as Tennessee Williams, Tom Stoppard, and Federico García Lorca; comprehensive histories of world and North American theatre; and a guide to dramaturgy. Her fifteenth book will be a history of French and American theatre artists in World War I. However, she considers The Enchanted Years of the Stage: Kansas City at the Crossroads of American Theater, 1870-1930 (2007) as her most important work. This award-winning book chronicles the lively, entertaining, rich history of theatre in Kansas City’s golden age and is a must-read for anyone interested in the glorious history of our city’s early theatre.

Her research on this book led Felicia to found the Patricia McIlrath Center for Mid-American Theatre, the only archive in the surrounding region devoted specifically to live local theatre. “My dream was to start an archive to preserve play programs, posters, and reviews,” she says. “What I really wanted to do was preserve everything about Kansas City theatre history.” The McIlrath Center is also a repository for photographs, clippings, albums, and recordings that might otherwise be lost, since theatre is such an ephemeral medium. Both students and researchers in the community use the collections, and Felicia regularly fields inquiries from people seeking information on an array of subjects.

Regarding the current state of local theatre, Felicia is adamant about our need to produce more classic and contemporary foreign plays. She points out, for example, that Kansas City missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to mark the 100th birthday of Tennessee Williams last season by not producing any of his plays, and she is even more vehement about the provinciality of our offerings. “There’s a world of great contemporary drama out there, and Kansas City doesn’t see it! Don’t we care what’s being written in France, and Spain, and Russia, and Germany, and England, and Australia?” she asks. Disturbed also by the overall decline in excellence manifested in virtually all aspects of our culture, Felicia is outraged at the closing of the University of Missouri Press, the publisher of The Enchanted Years of the Stage, which has recently dealt “a great body blow to the University of Missouri” and typifies the lowering of cultural standards.

In late spring of 1962, the week before Felicia graduated from Montana State University, she took a solitary night stroll to a group of glaciated rocks positioned on the campus. At the time, John Glenn had just become the first person to orbit the earth. Sitting down, she peered up at the stars twinkling in the sky and experienced, “a feeling of endless potential and possibility in the life that lay mysteriously ahead of me. And yet I was completely aware of my insignificance as a mere speck in the cosmos of space and time. Complete serenity enveloped me as I contemplated the mysteries of past and future and the great infinity beyond our planet, and as I murmured to the stars about the unknown ways in which my dreams might play out.”

Felicia would not return to the Montana campus until 36 years later, when she received the university’s Distinguished Alumna Award. Later that night, sitting in the exact same spot, she looked up at the same stars and realized that John Glenn had just returned to outer space. “I still delight in the cosmic click telling me that all my world travels and experiences over the years had somehow taken me to just where I needed to be at precisely the right times,” she recalls. For both of them, divine providence had melded with a trust in their own determination to be open to adventure, to enjoy the journey, and to offer something worthwhile to the world.

Thomas Canfield is an instructor of Theatre, English, and Humanities at UMKC and National American University.