Life is a Dream (2022-23) — Robert Hubbard

Director’s Note

My students often report that Pedro Calderón de la Barca’s Renaissance classic, Life is a Dream, is one of their favorite plays that we study together in our theatre history sequence. I understand why. Although it is too rarely performed in English, Life is a Dream achieves an unlikely trifecta. It manages to be funny, exciting, and philosophical. I describe it as part Pirates of the Caribbean, part Matrix, and part Hamlet—with zesty dashes of Sophocles and Plato sprinkled in. This 17th century “comedia” (a uniquely Spanish comedy/tragedy hybrid) contains multitudes. As the title suggests, Life is a Dream asks its audience to question how we know what is real (Descartes); it anticipates the nature vs. nurture debate of parenting (Galton et all); it dramatically poses the freewill vs. predestination theological question (Augustine+/Calvin+). As if all this intellectual wheel-turning were not enough, Life is a Dream also gifts us with a hilarious Renaissance clown, playful illustrations of courtly love, a classical Spanish depiction of the importance of a woman’s honor, and an unrelenting if beguiling devotion to kingship set against a violent political rebellion. While pulling on the many thematic threads of Calderón’s masterpiece hopefully provides a magical theatre experience, Life is a Dream offers something even more. A subtle yet substantial echo of the Gospel rises above the complex din of majestic ideas. In his personal life, Calderón reportedly lived a reckless and feckless existence marked by philandering, violence, and personal tragedy. By his own account, priestly service to the church ultimately restored the shambles of the playwright’s messy life. Through the mouthpiece of his antihero/hero, Segismundo, Calderón eventually settles on a profoundly simple message for his complex play: love each other and forgive.