A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a hot mess.
Yet its unpredictability and whimsical chaos is the same reason a lot of us join theater in the first place – to be a little lost. To dive into the uncertainty of experiencing vulnerable art, of fitting mismatched parts into one production, of building our own world onstage. Midsummer’s witty journey through the forest echoes our own production process – the laughs we share over improvised lines, half-finished costumes, squeaky mics, and forgotten blocking. And just like the Athenians, lovers, fairies, and mechanicals, it all miraculously comes together.
There's something so remarkably human about it all. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, underneath all the excitement and noise, there's a heartbeat. There's a longing to be seen, to belong, to love and be loved – an ache for connection.
That ache is filled by theater, and that’s how I knew I belonged here. I felt the pull towards my friends at the first company call, the teary hugs after curtains close on a successful show, the pride in watching the underclassmen you used to teach design their dream. These connections are how I have grown, through every show, learning a different lesson each time (some more jarring than others).
So yes, bask in the illogical disorder of this show. Enjoy the unexpected. Get lost in the forest. Try on a donkey head. But don’t forget what lies beneath it all: the rawness of being human. After all, this kind of chaos is familiar to us. We’ve seen it before – when we fall in love, grow up, and find ourselves. As you watch the show, look for those reminders of humanity and the sparks of connection.
And appreciate the community of it – after all, I wouldn’t be here without mine! This dream wouldn’t be possible without my incredible actors (you blow me away every time), my designers (you have my whole heart), and every person who poured a little bit of their dream into this show. I couldn’t forget my fellow acting PDS – Wren, it’s a miracle you put up with me for another production; Claire, I can’t wait to watch what you do; AJ, Players is in great hands with you next year.
Finally, thank you to everyone diving into our world tonight. Every show you choose to see gives a kid in this company not just a voice, but a chance to be understood and believed in. That’s what theater has done for me – taught me how to embrace the chaos and even thrive in it, to recognize our humanity and relentlessly grow from all the mistakes we are bound to make. And that’s what I hope this show does for you.
And if it doesn’t? Hey, it was just a dream!
-Charlie McCauley
PS: To my fellow seniors, and anyone else leaving something behind with this show: reminisce on what we had, but don’t forget how we’ve grown. We’ve definitely endured it all, from the connective magic of Fairies in our friends to the inattentive audiences of Athens (hello school previews!). But every show has helped us find ourselves as well as each other, and I know I wouldn’t be the same without it.