Much Ado About Nothing 

Oh, how I love this play. How I need this play.

While its title suggests a frivolity with little consequence, it is in fact a container for much deeper themes.

It is a comedy with a song of sorrow.
It is a comedy that poked at the patriarchal structures of the day and how dangerous it could be for women.
It is a comedy with a death and a resurrection.
It is a comedy that at its core is filled with such hope. Hope that love is attainable, hope that we can find those we thought lost, hope that forgiveness is possible, and hope for that ever-elusive second chance.

Shakespeare gives us these two extraordinary sets of lovers. At the center are our young lovers, Claudio and Hero, who in fact must walk through a valley of death for the possibility of forgiveness and a new beginning.

As a counterpoint he gives us the indelible Beatrice and Benedick. The prototype for all romantic comedies to come. The witty, smart, combatants with a history. Theirs is a journey toward a vulnerable heart, to a moment of bravely revealing themselves to each other. This brings them to a deeper understanding that from their vulnerable hearts comes strength and integrity, both for their personal relationship and for the community. In fact, the moment the play moves toward tragedy, it is Benedick’s admission and revelation to Beatrice that shifts the momentum back to possibility:

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange.”
And Beatrice’s eventual admission and revelation in reply,
“I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.”

That simple exchange always fills me with such glee and wonder. It is beautiful and brave and funny and true. It gives our lovers the possibility of a radiant second chance.

That is the production we will aim toward. One that honors Shakespeare’s elegant exchange and excavates what is beautiful and brave and funny and true, and poses the question that Shakespeare himself was obsessed with: “Is forgiveness possible?”

As I sit here in New York City in October 2023 watching unbelievable horrors unfold on the television, I need the hope seared into this play—hope that we can find those we thought lost, hope that our humanity is not forgotten, and hope for that ever-elusive possibility to begin again.

I am so honored that Tim Bond asked me to direct this complicated comedy. And I look forward to coming home to Ashland—to begin again.

See you on the Bricks!!!

—Miriam A. Laube