January 13th and 15th

“I need to act.” — January 13

The energy in the room was vibrant from the very start. As the group settled in together, there was an immediate sense of anticipation and playfulness—people were eager to move, to imagine, and to create. One participant captured the spirit of the evening perfectly, declaring, “I need to act. I gotta get some energy out.” That sense of urgency and joy carried us through the session.

Much of our time together was devoted to dreaming up the world of Comedy of Errors through costume. The room buzzed with ideas: rainbow tie-dye robes, platform shoes, flower crowns, bell bottoms, fluffy collars, vests, and even a “Cat in the Hat”–style hat. Aupperlee sparked a lively conversation about circular glasses, and soon the group was riffing together about how to bring a 1960s/70s aesthetic to life. Creativity was contagious—participants built on one another’s suggestions, imagining bead curtains for doors, tie-dyed backdrops, and playful, colorful silhouettes that would help tell the story.

There was also a beautiful blend of humor and collaboration. Laughter rippled through the room when one participant confidently began her monologue—only to forget a few words—but the moment felt supportive rather than embarrassing. Everyone cheered each other on.

We moved from design into practice, warming up together before diving into Act 3, Scene 1. Morris encouraged performers to take up more space, filling the room with bigger, bolder presence. The group experimented with staging using music stands as doors, discovering what might work onstage. Even as we wrapped up, the creativity continued—one participant taught the ensemble a hustle dance they hope to use at the end of the show.

The evening left us excited about what’s to come: a production rooted in imagination, play, and collective joy.

“Laughing helps the soul.” — January 15

Our session centered on reflection, connection, and the healing power of laughter. As we gathered, we returned to the question that will guide part of my master’s thesis: What drew you to Comedy of Errors? The responses were thoughtful, heartfelt, and often funny.

Several participants spoke about how rare joy can feel in their daily lives—and how essential it is. One shared simply, “Laughing helps the soul.” Others reflected on how comedy brings lightness, community, and something to look forward to. Many expressed how meaningful it is to be part of a Shakespeare production, recalling past experiences where theatre made them feel “like they were outside” or sparked their imagination in vivid ways.

Fisher-Grant guided the conversation with warmth and curiosity, inviting stories about past SIP performances, including Much Ado About Nothing, and Twelfth Night. Participants spoke with pride about handmade props, inventive costumes, and the way small “mistakes” onstage only made the work feel more human and alive.

We also talked openly about roles in the upcoming production. While there were playful debates, the tone remained supportive and generous—several participants even offered to step back so others could have opportunities. Fisher-Grant encouraged everyone to practice boldly and use their full voices, reminding the group that their sound and presence matter.

The session ended on a lighthearted note. After joking about who might be “Queen of the Jungle,” the group chose to play a dance game together, filling the room with movement, laughter, and camaraderie before we wrapped up for the evening.

January 6th and 8th

“We Don’t Have a Lot of Color Here—I’d Love to See That.” - January 6

The week began with the ensemble returning from a short break and jumping back into creative decision-making together. The focus of the night was concept: what world The Comedy of Errors should live in, and how design choices can support both storytelling and practicality.

After reviewing concepts discussed in previous sessions, the group brainstormed a wide range of ideas—from ancient worlds to playful reimaginings—before narrowing their focus. Through discussion and multiple rounds of voting, the ensemble ultimately chose a 1960s/70s Hippies concept. The conversation centered not only on aesthetics, but on accessibility, color, and joy—what would feel exciting, expressive, and achievable.

Once the concept was chosen, the group began thinking ahead to costumes and character distinctions, especially for mirrored roles like the Antipholuses and Dromios. The evening then shifted into skill-building, with time dedicated to stage directions, spacing, and basic blocking language. Ensemble games reinforced ideas like cheating out, actor distance, and sharing the stage.

The session closed with a brief improvised exploration of Act 5, Scene 1, allowing the group to start imagining how the play might move and feel on its feet. The night ended with a strong sense of collective ownership and creative momentum.

“I Just Want Him to Be Funny.” - January 8

With rehearsal scripts officially in hand, the ensemble dove into blocking and scene work, eager to bring the play to life. The group began by revisiting rehearsal room values—how to offer notes, how to receive feedback, and how to balance collaboration with individual choice. The emphasis was clear: actors are encouraged to experiment, but ultimately decide what works best for them.

Blocking began with the opening scenes of the play, quickly revealing opportunities for added stage business and physical storytelling. Ensemble members stepped into both primary and supporting roles, finding inventive ways to stay active and engaged onstage—even when characters weren’t speaking. Moments of improvisation brought humor and surprise, including spontaneous character beats that immediately energized the room.

As scene work continued, the group navigated the balance between specificity and overload. When feedback became dense, the ensemble practiced slowing down and offering one clear note at a time. These moments became opportunities to reinforce trust and care within the room, especially as actors worked through challenging monologues and physical comedy.

The session also featured lively stage combat, playful repetition, and growing confidence—particularly among actors tackling demanding roles with both language and movement. By the end of the night, the ensemble had successfully blocked through multiple scenes, laying strong groundwork for future rehearsals.

The evening closed with ensemble games that emphasized listening and patience, along with early conversations about costumes and upcoming creative choices. Together, the two sessions reflected a rehearsal room full of curiosity, laughter, and forward motion—an ensemble actively shaping The Comedy of Errors with care, courage, and joy.

November and December Wrap Up

“It’s Time for Some Serious Laughter.”

As the year came to a close, Shakespeare in Prison spent November and December grounded in connection, creativity, and care. These final months of the calendar year offered space for the ensemble to reflect on how far they’ve come, deepen trust with one another, and lean into the joy of making theatre together.

Throughout November, the ensemble focused on The Comedy of Errors, diving into the language, humor, and physicality of the play. Ensemble members auditioned for roles and participated in a collaborative voting process, reinforcing SIP’s commitment to shared leadership and collective decision-making. The audition process was marked by courage, generosity, and mutual support, with the group holding space for one another through both excitement and vulnerability.

In December, the ensemble shifted from possibility into discovery. Members began exploring their assigned roles, testing instincts, and building early character relationships. The group also watched a filmed version of The Comedy of Errors, using it as a springboard for discussion. These conversations opened up creative dialogue about tone, style, and the setting they want to place their own production in, sparking imagination and collective visioning for the months ahead. Alongside this, the ensemble reflected on past SIP work, sharing pride in what they have created and excitement for what’s next.

As the year wrapped up, the room felt full of momentum and care. November and December served as a reminder that SIP is not only about performance, but about presence: showing up, listening deeply, laughing often, and continuing to build something meaningful together.

October 28th and 30th

“Straight Up!”

This week’s gathering was a joyful reminder of what makes the ensemble special—collaboration, humor, and shared ownership of the process. The evening was devoted to one of the most important decisions of the season: how auditions would work.

After warm laughter during check-in, the ensemble discussed several options. Should auditions be before or after Thanksgiving? Should they keep the traditional SIP style of performing solo monologues? Every opinion was heard. One member pointed out that holding auditions before the holiday would avoid scheduling conflicts; another agreed that it would “leave more time for the read-through before the break.” A single voice spoke up for post-holiday auditions, but when it came to a vote, the decision was clear—pre-Thanksgiving auditions won overwhelmingly.

The conversation then turned to the format. The group quickly agreed to return to the traditional style—each person performing a monologue on stage—and began calling out suggestions. The list grew fast: Adriana 2.2, Luciana 3.2, Antipholus 3.2, Egeon 1.1, and Dromio 4.4. One participant read Adriana’s piece and admitted, “I didn’t like it—there were a lot of words I didn’t know.” Another followed and declared, “I loved it! Straight up!” which sent the group into laughter.

Another member gave a lively reading of Luciana’s speech that earned enthusiastic cheers from her peers. The discussion that followed was full of encouragement and curiosity. Together, the ensemble narrowed the options down to five audition pieces:

1. Adriana 2.2

2. Duke 1.1

3. Luciana 3.2

4. Antipholus 3.2 (paired with #3 for a optional scene)

5. Dromio 4.4

6. Or any other piece that “speaks to you”

The evening closed with everyone sharing which roles they hoped to explore. The room buzzed with anticipation—some dreaming of leads, others of comic side roles—and plenty of laughter along the way. By night’s end, the group had charted the path forward democratically and joyfully.

“We Don’t Consider This to Be a Gift!”

Two days later, the ensemble reached another major milestone: stepping into the proscenium for the first time this season. That shift—from sitting in the circle to standing on the stage—is always a thrilling one. It signals that the work is transforming from exploration to performance.

The evening began lightheartedly, with jokes and laughter. When the audition packets were handed out, someone quipped, “We don’t consider this to be a gift!” and the room erupted. After a brief conversation about the coming weeks—practicing audition pieces, exploring roles, and building confidence—the ensemble moved eagerly into the performance space.

The first scene opened with two participants playing Luciana and Antipholus, running their lines twice and finding more confidence each time. Another group followed with a fast-paced exchange between Dromio and the Courtesan, and soon the stage was alive with motion and laughter. When one actor froze mid-scene, a voice from the house called out, “Move around! Stop standing in one spot!”—drawing good-natured cheers and helping everyone loosen up.

Throughout the evening, performers experimented with rhythm, projection, and physicality. One ensemble member presented the Duke’s monologue, standing tall at the podium while peers offered encouraging notes—“slow down,” “take a breath,” “stand proud.” Another scene drew big laughs when an actor was told to “seduce the audience,” and a friend in the seats pretended to swoon, clapping and laughing along.

There wasn’t much discussion that night because no one wanted to stop performing. One scene after another flowed naturally; people were volunteering before the previous one had even ended. It was clear that the ensemble had leveled up. The nervous excitement of stepping onto the stage for the first time mixed with the joy of seeing each other shine.

As October closed, the Comedy of Errors ensemble stood quite literally on its feet—ready for auditions, brimming with courage, and united in their shared leap forward.

October 21st and 23rd

“With Shakespeare You Get Lost in the Sauce”

By late October, the ensemble was flying through the No Fear text. The experiment—voted on earlier in the month—had become a bonding experience. Even those who were initially skeptical began to see the benefits. “It gets you in the mindset of these characters—their emotions,” one participant said. “With Shakespeare you get lost in the sauce. With the No Fear, the proof is in the pudding.” Another added simply, “This makes sense.”

Act 3.2 brought flirtation and wit, with Antipholus wooing Luciana and Dromio cracking nonstop jokes. “It was the first time I took a role that big,” one participant said after reading. Every time a Dromio joke landed, the whole group shouted “Ay-oh!” until laughter filled the room.

In Act 4.1, Antipholus of Ephesus found himself in debt and under arrest, and the ensemble worked to untangle who owed whom. By the time they reached Act 4.2, Adriana’s jealousy had the room buzzing again. One performer sprinted into her entrance, breathlessly accusing her sister of betrayal. Her timing was impeccable, and the group snapped and laughed in appreciation. “That was really funny,” one participant said admiringly.

On October 23, the ensemble revisited Act 4.4 and the play’s climactic final scene. The language was modern, but the emotion still rang true. “That was fun!” one participant said after finishing. “Let’s do it again!” As the group finished the No Fear side, attention turned toward the production. Costume and setting ideas flew around the room: “Renaissance!” someone shouted. “Bougie pirates!” another suggested. “1920s flapper and gangster attire—because we’re in our own 20s!” someone added. The idea stuck, filling the group with excitement for what’s next.

Auditions were right around the corner, and anticipation was palpable. The ensemble had read, laughed, argued, and reflected their way through The Comedy of Errors. As one participant said earlier in the season, “I used to be like, ‘not me,’ and now I’m ready to read.” The story of mistaken identity had become something more—a story about finding voice, purpose, and joy together.