February 2006

Dear Subscriber:

WE ARE PLEASED to be able to bring to our stage the American premiere of Tom Stoppard’s new version of Pirandello’s Henry IV. It is very exciting to be the first theatre in this country to produce this script, which for clarification purposes, is not Shakespeare’s Henry IV but rather Pirandello’s, known in its original Italian as Enrico IV. In classic Stoppard fashion, this playwright-turned-adaptor has captured the essence of a masterwork and infused it with a compelling contemporary immediacy that weaves threads of history into a wonderfully eccentric and clever theatrical landscape, culminating in a walloping surprise ending. As he leads us down a captivating breadcrumb trail of lies told and truths unspoken, experiencing this play may at times feel like looking in a funhouse mirror as shifting perspectives distort our perceptions of people, even though the reality of who they are is right in front of us.

THE PLAY IS SET IN 2006, but its back-story begins 20 years earlier at the local community’s historical pageant—think Mardi Gras meets the History Channel—high spirits, banquets and lots of great costumes. Each guest assumes the persona of a historical figure of his or her choosing and dons the appropriate clothing and accessories. The play’s title character selects
King Henry IV of Germany when a woman whose affections he hopes to gain decides that she will play Matilda of Tuscany (who in history defended Henry to Pope Gregory VII).  During the pageant, someone strikes the horse Henry is riding, and it throws him to the ground, knocking him unconscious. He suffers substantial head trauma and awakes believing himself to be the real King Henry IV of the 11th century.

WHEN HIS CONDITION does not improve over time, Henry’s wealthy sister determines that the best course of treatment is to install him in a castle that, at least in the interior rooms, looks like Henry’s 11th-century home. His delusion is so grand that all of his visitors must present themselves as historical figures known to Henry IV or risk enraging the madman. To perpetuate this fantasy world, his sister has a costume shop, prop shop and possibly a scene shop tucked away in the castle, enabling all callers to clothe themselves in period garb before requesting an audience with “the king.” He spends his days in his throne room, furnished with two souvenir portrait-style photographs taken of him and Matilda in costume at the fateful pageant and is attended by his “privy counselors,” four young men paid to execute his orders and prevent the breach of his carefully constructed existence.

SHORTLY BEFORE the start of the play, the sister passes away, but in her last audience with her brother she feels that he is beginning to emerge from his delusional state and consequently instructs her son, Count Carlo Di Nolli, to do all he can to return Henry to sanity. At his mother’s passing, Di Nolli assumes his uncle’s guardianship, keeping the castle fully staffed and the charade in place. However, mindful of his mother’s commission, on the day that the play takes place, Di Nolli has assembled a team that he thinks can help to bring Henry out of his 20-year illness. Overseeing this intervention of sorts is a doctor who has proposed an unconventional therapy for the patient which relies on an abrupt confrontation to shock Henry into reality. It is not unlike what happens in Don Quixote or The Man of La Mancha when the Knight of the Mirrors appears and attempts to have the mad Don Quixote come face to face with reality. It may or may not work—but the idea of the shock of reality is the same in all of these pieces. Also in this party are the Countess Matilda, who played Matilda of Tuscany to Henry’s King in the pageant, and her daughter Frida, who is engaged to Di Nolli. Baron Belcredi and the Countess are involved in a long-term relationship, the foundation of which is their shared passion for sniping at one another and a mutual need to have the final word.

IN ORDER TO GAIN the ear of the king, though, this group must stage its own historical pageant around the theme of Henry’s life by portraying characters who are familiar in his 11th-century world. Matilda picks Adelaide who is the mother of Bertha of Susa, the historical Henry’s first wife. The doctor becomes the Abbott of Cluny, a figure that has visited Henry many times before, and Belcredi, costumed as a Benedictine monk is mistaken for Peter Damian, who advised Henry throughout his reign. To better understand Henry’s responses to these characters, it is helpful to know a bit more about their history and interrelationships. The following brief biographies are excerpted from the educational materials prepared for the Donmar Warehouse production of the play:

Emperor Henry IV:  Henry came to the throne as a child and his mother, Agnes acted as regent. She came under suspicion of adultery with the Bishop of Augsburg and had to be removed. To this piece of factual history, Pirandello adds the fiction that the accusation of adultery was brought by Peter Damian.

Pirandello is interested in what happened to Henry when he was twenty-six, namely his penance to Pope Gregory VII. Pope Gregory, by then Henry’s arch enemy, brought him to his knees, literally, as he knelt in the snow at Canossa hoping the Pope would give him an audience. His wife Bertha, knelt with him and Bertha’s mother, Adelaide, went with the Abbot of Cluny to plead with the Pope and his ally, Countess Matilda of Tuscany.

Bertha of Susa:  Wife of Henry IV. Bertha’s mother, Adelaide, is the character Matilda chooses to present herself as when received by Henry.

Matilda of Tuscany: It was at Matilda’s ancestral castle of Canossa that Henry was forced to humble himself before Pope Gregory VII in 1077.  It is Matilda of Tuscany whom the Marchesse Matilda dressed up as during the fateful pageant where Henry was knocked from his horse, and who is represented in the portrait that hangs in the throne room.

Abbot Hugo of Cluny: Hugo was Abbot from 1049 to 1109 and was godson to Henry IV. He was advisor to nine different Popes; he and his Cluniac monk, Gregory (later Pope Gregory VII) were instrumental in promoting the powerful revival of spiritual life throughout Western Europe which characterizes the eleventh century. The Doctor presents himself as Abbot Hugo of Cluny at his meeting with Henry.

Peter Damian:  Had a long association with Henry IV, including lecturing the young king on his obligations towards the Roman Church and persuading him not to divorce Bertha in later life.

WHEN THESE COSTUMED GUESTS encounter Henry for the first time, he is dressed in sackcloth to mark his penance to the Pope—remember he thinks it’s the 11th century and he is facing excommunication. His altered mental state in no way compromises his authority, though. In fact, it heightens it. With the stamp of madness already in place, he is free to speak and act as he chooses without consequence or explanation while his guests are left scrambling to respond. This is actually quite amusing to watch for those who are able to avoid the direct line of fire. Though he sometimes appears to be talking in riddles that only a madman would utter, his very pointed behavior toward the costumed Matilda and Belcredi leads them to believe that perhaps on some level he does recognize them. This thought terrifies Matilda, in particular, as she carries a great deal of guilt for her self-described “hot and cold” reception of Henry’s advances in the past and her virtual abandonment of him after the accident. Belcredi, as Henry’s rival in youth and replacement in middle age, is also threatened by the possibility of being seen for who he really is. Though we can’t say for certain, it appears that he may even have been involved with, if not wholly to blame for the events that led to Henry’s incapacitation. It is clear from their conversations both with and without Henry that even though two decades have passed, in many ways, the memory of the accident and its after-effects has never dulled for those involved.

WHAT MAKES THE KING’S exchange with his new guests fascinating and fun (for us anyway) is the sense that measurements of “reality” and hence, sanity, are completely relative. All his points are based in historical realities, just not quite as easy to follow as a fully linear conversation with a fully sane person. Henry’s mind is cloudy; that’s for sure. But from time to time the spark of cogency that his sister saw makes startling appearances, causing those from the “normal” world to question themselves. These moments are seemingly random and sometimes maddening for the people Henry is speaking to because he never settles easily into any predictable patterns.  For example, when Henry first catches sight of Matilda, the shock sends him reeling. He reacts to her presence with a mixture of deep feeling and disbelief. The encounters they have throughout the play often become deeply personal, but when he senses that he is emotionally engaging with her on a human and “sane” level, he pushes away from her and resumes his angry rants. It can seem cryptic, but some of his erratic behavior is explained when you realize how enraptured he is by her and consequently overwhelmed by the memories that she awakens. Who has not been “madly” in love? However, he also moves with a carefully calculated methodology and is, in fact, a brilliant performance artist. He loves having an audience and performs in ways to dazzle and confuse those around him—making him a delight to watch. This should come as no surprise, since both Pirandello and Stoppard love the theatre and have written many plays about actors getting caught in their own reality during performances.

CHARACTERS SUCH AS HENRY force us to reconsider the notion of sanity. A rough interpretation of the legal definition suggests that our sanity is gauged by how successfully we can navigate our world. If we can control ourselves and our actions, we are sane; if we cannot, we are mad. By this measure, Henry is quite sane, as his decisions are purposeful and his commands unchallenged. But, if his historically preserved “bubble” is breached, he flies into a rage and chaos ensues. Is he mad for existing in a fantasy world, or are his visitors mad for attempting to invade it?  This is a difficult riddle to solve, but an important clue is found in a kind of “mystery” surrounding the plot which is infinitely more fun if it isn’t revealed until you see the play.

HENRY IV IS A PLAY ABOUT time and its drumbeat as it continues to affect everyone and everything. Henry and Matilda struggle to reconcile the difference between the images in their souvenir photographs and the reality of middle age. And just as they fight to maintain their youthful appearances through makeup and hair dye, Henry yearns to rekindle their youthful attitudes by perpetually replaying a day that passed 20 years ago.

PIRANDELLO HAS WRITTEN a piece full of theatricality and imagery grounded in a philosophical quandary to keep your minds engaged. Part of that has to do with the question of whether or not, if you were in the same position as Henry, you would want to re-enter the world of the sane. After all he’s got a good deal going for him in the castle. He gets to play-act with his four guys, people bow and scrape to have audiences with him and he’s in power—he controls behavior in the castle. That could be a lot more fun than returning to the real world. Plus, he gets to keep reliving history, so in essence the script is already written. He and his attendants know what to play. Faced with the real world, it’s all ad lib—no script, no history to work from—so staying in the historical is a safer, if not saner choice.

NARELLE SISSONS HAS DESIGNED Henry’s magnificent throne room, and Liz Covey’s costumes span several centuries. All of this will look wonderful under Mary Jo Dondlinger’s lights. I am pleased to direct a wonderful cast led by Andrew Long as Henry. Andrew played Heisenberg in our production of Copenhagen and also was in Metamorphoses for us. Jerry Vogel returns as Belcredi and we are joined by new friends Dan Domingues, Keith Perry, Lori Prince, John Thomas Waite, Susan Wands and four Webster Conservatory students, Alex and Nathan Burkart, Will Davis and Matt Timme.

THIS PLAY HAS ALWAYS intrigued me because of its examination of what is real and what may not be. It offers a compelling look at issues of age versus youth and the elaborate stories people tell to keep themselves going. With its immense theatricality, surprises and unexpected humor, it explores the depth of a relationship that yearns to be reconnected and reestablished after a 20-year interruption.

See you at the theatre,

Steven Woolf
Artistic Director