It has been an odd pleasure to mount the Comedy of Errors. In the same way one forgets that locking the house without a key to get back in will lead to problems at midnight, dragging oneself home for a cup of Sleepytime tea and a quick overnight nap after a long day of rehearsals and scattered obligations, one forgets that Shakespeare’s plays insinuate themselves into our lives like stray cats, or bedbugs. The play is delightful because it is full of the aggravations that drive us crazy (“but soft, my door is locked…”), and we love to see other people tear their hair out over small grievances. Not only out of our perverse nature, though that cannot be totally discounted, but also because we see that we go nuts over the things that don’t have any consequence. Over things of weight, like the hanging of a foreigner, or a merchant’s ruthlessness on his way to Persia (Iraq), we stay pretty calm. As we should, in order to be steady when things get rough. Meanwhile, it’s not a bad thing to laugh at our intricate follies.
Once again, many thanks are due to people whose acts of kindness and generosity make these hare-brained projects possible. Exemplary among these is Charley Clemmons, who lent his truck so we could pick up the set pieces from Shakespeare & Company on a Saturday two weeks ago when there were mountains of snow to be plowed before evening.