The Tempest

by William Shakespeare

Hillsborough High School - 2016

“Look on every exit as being an entrance somewhere else.” — Tom Stoppard

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Entrances and exits, like journeys, are the conduit of transformation in our existence, and so often underestimated for the profound meaning they will carry for us. Many times we declare the journey is in fact the goal, that any concept of a destination merely a pretense for complacency, a prelude to death. Prospero does not embrace this, but embraces the fated journey of his brother to his particular world of carnivale as a chance for his own transition from mastery to servitude, from knowledge to ignorance, from a curse to a blessing — his complex entanglement with control reflects so many of our own choices which apparently move against our own interest. Before you, exploding from a child’s imagination is the universe of Prospero’s play and his attempt to make sense of the destination, his attempts to find a new journey, until one happens upon his lap. Ultimately, the old man or the child will reorder his narrative to fit preferences, and he will awaken to discover morning light, or night’s obscurity. There is a delight and wonder which follows the telling of great story, be it from foreign lands, new friends, or familiar territories we've somehow taken for granted. Prospero’s cat-like tormenting of family, strangers, servants, betrays an immaturity I found myself shedding through my years as an educator, when I found the brilliance of discovery and the warmth of generosity effectively eliminates any need to prove oneself. I continue to find that this reflection of self constitutes the driving force of theatre craft, and a daily inspiration of mine. Through these stories we find ourselves and we find each other - the significance of this connection cannot be overstated.