A strange thing happens when you become a theater nerd of the highest order – you develop a relationship not just with the characters within a play, or even the play itself, but – if circumstances allow – with the theater company as a whole. Every season takes on its own personality, and you find yourself wistfully remembering all the shows that made it what it was – the actors, the plays, the characters, the sets, the costumes, even the weather, and the way that the sky looked.
This is how I mark my visits to Ashland – by the shows that weave themselves into that chapter of my life. And so now I cannot think of Medea/MacBeth/Cinderella without thinking of my brain surgery, and I cannot read Hamlet without feeling rain on my face, and Shakespeare will forever be Bill DeMeritt. Don’t @ me.
It is too early to say what this season