Much Ado About Nothing: A Miami Party to Joy, Gabriela Furtado Coutinho
Much Ado About Nothing: A Miami Party to Joy
Directed by: Gabriela Furtado Coutinho
Lovers & Madmen, Northwestern University
Evanston, IL
Much Ado About Nothing: A Miami Party to Joy (2021)
This is a reprint of the Director's Note, published here with permission from Gabriela Furtado Coutinho.
Director’s Note from Gabriela Furtado Coutinho
“When you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave.”
Leonato in William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, Act I Scene I
I don’t need to tell you about the sorrow of isolation. Happiness has proved a tricky creature as of late. But tis time to invite one another, invite joy, back into space… And how do we do that again? In this question I hear the footsteps of so many pacing, falling, and dreaming. The characters in Much Ado About Nothing call louder and louder to me in all their desperate, post-war need to make things right, good, joyous. Mended. As we return from our own “wars” of the past year with both impossible dreams and anxieties, the team and I have wondered how to curate a communal experience of healing.
In first reading this play as a child, I could have sworn the characters’ language was laughter: a personal phrase I reserve for the catharsis of immigrants speaking their native tongues. Messina’s air abounds in chatter, in eagerness to fulfill idealistic celebration, yet its proud and trepid characters falter in communication. The text now, just as we’ve begun our return to the in-person world, feels all the more familiar. Shakespeare wrote 2021 Miami, a city overflowing in beauty, trauma, and transition.
Having grown up in this salad bowl cultural phenomenon after immigrating from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, I’ve heard music in different languages blared all at once, the beats somehow harmonizing. In the past year, I’ve seen illness, fear, sorrow, and uncertainty disrupt the city’s usual, multilingual festivities of life. Devastate. As Northwestern’s first major production back with a fully in-person audience, we pondered what a return to joy would look like, just as Messina does. The colors, sounds, textures.
I knew I wanted everyone to feel free and show up fully as themselves, contributing songs and expressions that felt like home. Claudio mourns on the second and third days of the wedding tragedy, as is tradition in South Korea. Hero tries to recover with Karol G’s “Tusa.” Reflecting cast members’ choices and identities, we hear Spanish, Portuguese, Armenian, Korean, Hebrew, and Greek. The masked ball reflects the sea of both masks and no masks seen today in Miami nightlife.
Throughout the experience, audiences become each character’s confidante and friend; are invited to get up and dance; and taste the many flavors of this extraordinary place, from savory empanadas to fresh mocktails. Close to the onstage kiddie pool, some audiences may be splashed. But we wanted to be mindful of different comfort levels with engagement, hence the seat options: the tables onstage and thrust front row seats are designated “interaction” zones, where characters may hold out a hand for folks to take or pass around props. The rest of the seats are “no-contact interaction” zones, where audiences won’t be approached—but can still choose to get up and dance at select moments.
There are contradictory forces to reconcile here in 2021 Miami. How do pandemic trauma and a city known for its raucous explosions of joy go together? Smack in the middle of this delightful friction, the comedy Much Ado About Nothing lives a breath away from a tragedy. We meet the characters already world-weary, paranoid, tired. They avoid talking directly with one another, deceive, and regret. However, they also courageously follow their overwhelming need to redefine and reclaim their lives, relationships, and joy. Emerging from our global ordeal, I notice many of us have told ourselves story after story after story to survive—sometimes renouncing the lofty goals of living loudly.
But as humans, we only get one story. I am a little tired of living in the mindspace of a party to joy, in theorizing it, in talking about it. I want to live it. When thinking about how to make art after this strange and unusual time, Mark, our team, the cast, and I sought an experience that audiences might actually hope for and need. One that might fit within one’s tapestry of healing. We feel unspeakably grateful for the opportunity to share this project, this physical space, and this energy with you. I don’t think any of us can take this for granted. We wish you an absolutely beautiful time at this party and encourage you to embody joy in its many forms—dance, snap, holler, laugh wondrously loud… until you can sing you’ll “vivir mi vida.”
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For more information or a full recording, contact Gabriela Furtado Coutinho at gabriela[dot]furtado[dot]coutinho[dot]us[at]gmail[dot]com.
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Cast
Beatrice - Olivia Pryor
Benedick - Eitan Pessah
Hero - Mariana Reyes Daza
Claudio - Jared Son
Don Pedro - Emily Zhang
Leonardo - Jordan Muhammad
Don Juan - Reilly Oh
Ursula/Sexton - Maddie Hughes
Margaret - Anelga Hajjar
Borachio - Alexander Christie
Dogberry - Ben Jouras
Verges/Friar/Musician - Carter Popkin
Watchman/Choreographer - Brennan Pringle
Watchman/Choreographer - Laurisa Sastoque
Creative Team
Assistant Director - Alondra Rios
Stage Manager - Anna Margevich
Assistant Stage Manager - Julie Monteleone
Music Director/Composer - Brandon Acosta
Costume Designers - Claire Scavone and Jasmine Ali-Diaz
Set Designer - Ryan Nguyen
Lighting Designer - Rishi Varma
Props Designer - Tamara Sanchez
Hair & Makeup - Kenny Davis
Dramaturgs - Dan Calderon and Molly McCarthy
Intimacy Consultant - Jonathan Van De Loo
Technical Director - Gillian Finnegan
Master Electrician - Henry Muller
Joy Chair - Sydney Hastings-Smith
Audience Experience Coordinator - Danielle Llevada
Marketing Director - Maelea Tan
Marketing Mentor - Arella Flur
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Photography by Joanne Haner
Courtesy of Gabriela Furtado Coutinho



