Into The Woods

DIRECTOR’S NOTE

This past September, Dean Paul Escott announced he would be leaving his position as Dean of the College at the end of the year. We in the Department of Theatre and Dance immediately decided to dedicate this, the last theatre production of his
last year in the Dean’s office, to him. Over his entire tenure as Dean, Paul Escott has been our tireless supporter, and we will miss him.

It may be stretching an analogy, but I dare say Paul’s work as the college’s fearless leader has been rather like being one of the characters in Into the Woods. Killing giants and granting wishes might not have been parts of his original job description, but I feel sure he’s been asked to do both, metaphorically or not. Now it’s time for him to leave those particular woods and enjoy his research and teaching without such unusual pressures—from us or anyone else. With Into the Woods, we wish him
well and thank him for his generosity, his good will, and his friendship.

For us working on this beautiful play, Into the Woods has been both a gift and a challenge. The cast and directing staff have repeatedly claimed that Sondheim is “an evil genius.” His music, words, and ideas fuse together in ways that put to rest any charge that music theatre need be a frivolous genre. Despite its basis in stories we all already know—or think we know—this fairy tale musical is hard stuff. However, it’s also deeply rewarding. Into the
Woods has challenged our technical acumen, our artistry, and our
stamina, but it’s been a journey full of the pleasures of the play— its fun, its emotional strength, its pure exhilaration, and its insights.

It has also taught us things that can make us better citizens of the world. We’re constantly told that we live in dangerous times—days filled with terrors and terrorists, a time, in short, when we should all feel afraid. But the world has always been
dangerous, and our fear does little to protect us. Instead, I’d like to suggest that this play (along with recent current events) teaches
us to reach beyond fear, past the reptilian self that focuses on
grabbing, bullying, self-protection, and greed. We must develop instead the limbic, mammalian part of our brains, which allows us to empathize and bond.

Sondheim also shares some sentiments expressed by one of my favorite poets, Ranier Maria Rilke, who urged courage in the face of everyday fear, and asked us to “sound the depths of [our] own being.” He wrote, “For if we imagine this being of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it is obvious that most people come to know only one corner of their room, one spot
near the window, one narrow strip on which they keep walking back and forth.” While such limits do provide “a certain security,” Rilke said, they also act as a trap that restricts self-knowledge and leads to boring, meaningless, colorless lives. In other words, to sound the depths of our being we must go into the woods, confront our fears, make mistakes, learn to trust, and know we will come
away wiser. The woods may be scary, but they’re also where all the action is.
So come into the woods with us. Let’s plant some magic beans, kiss some princes, and celebrate our humanity. Paul, from all of us in Theatre and Dance, this is for you.