Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale is one of his oddest plays. It’s essentially divided between two halves, the one set in the court of Sicily and the other in the pastoral idyll of Bohemia. The first half is a psychological portrait of paranoia, violence, and oppressive patriarchy, and the second half blends rustic charm with redemptive reunifications.

The play begins in the court of Leontes, king of Sicily, who is hosting his childhood friend Polixenes, king of Bohemia. Polixenes insists he must go home, but the pregnant queen Hermione (Leontes’ wife) entreats him to stay and Polixenes agrees. This raises Leontes’ suspicion who rapidly convinces himself, despite the testimony of the entire court and Apollo’s oracle, that Hermione cheated on him with Polixenes, and that she’s pregnant with the Bohemian’s baby. Polixenes is warned of Leontes’ plot to murder him and heads home, but Hermione is arrested and tried for treason. She has her baby in jail, and Leontes orders a courtier to take it out and expose it in a deserted area. During Hermione’s trial, it’s reported that their son has died, whereupon Hermione dies of grief, and Leontes promptly repents his tyranny seeing the deaths of all his family members as Apollo’s punishment for doubting the oracle. In the following scene, we see the courtier leave the royal baby, named Perdita, in Bohemia (then immediately get eaten by a bear, in a bizarre twist), where she is found by two shepherds who decide to raise her as their own. Sixteen years go by, and Florizel, prince of Bohemia, has fallen in love with a shepherd girl, much to the chagrin of his father. After Polixenes threatens to disinherit Florizel if he goes through with the marriage, the two lovers flee to Sicily to try and find sanctuary in Leontes’ court, but Polixenes follows them, bringing along the two shepherd who had raised Perdita. When they all arrive, it is promptly revealed that Perdita was the royal baby left to die, therefore, the living daughter of Leontes, making her both his only surviving family and a fit match for Florizel (because she’s royal and the marriage will restore amity between the two estranged kings). Paulina, one of Hermione’s fiercest champions, reveals that she’s had an incredibly live like statue of Hermione made, and Leontes and Perdita decide to go see it. After some musing about how awesome Hermione was, Paulina “casts a spell” and the statue begins to move, revealing that it wasn’t a statue at all, but Hermione herself, who didn’t really die but has just been hiding with Paulina for sixteen years hoping her daughter would turn back up.

The ASC production, directed by Kevin Rich as part of their Hand of Time tour, did an excellent job blending these two different styles/aesthetics into one generally coherent play, in part by not trying too hard to smooth over the contrasts. The aesthetics of the Sicilian court were definitely different than the visual aspects of rural Bohemia. In Sicily, the costumes were very Renaissance-inspired, with rich tapestry type patterns in heavy fabrics. In the Bohemia scenes, the costumes were more Germanic, with simpler solid colored fabrics, sashes for the men, and kroje-style dresses (a Czech style, similar to the German dirndl) for the women.

While the costuming distinguished the two portions of the play, the performances often echoed one another between the two portions. In particular, Kenn Hopkins Jr. (Polixenes) took his cue from Ronald Román-Meléndez (Leontes) when he raged at Florizel (Josh Clark) over the prince’s plan to marry Perdita (Constance Swain). The two performances of tyrannical jealousy/domineering were very similar. The tendency to tower over others and shout down any attempt to offer explanations, justifications, or alternative perspectives really showed a thematic links between the two otherwise very different kingdoms.

However, the most distinct and moving performance of the night was Ally Farzetta’s Hermione. During her trial scene, Hermione’s speech is a rhetorical tour de force, and Farzetta’s delivery was perfect. Hermione masterfully generates arguments based on the violent but unfounded distrust Leontes bears for her, and Farzetta played that speech superbly, blending a kind of retiring introspection with a passionate desire to get back her husband’s love and her position within the family, and with a deep despair at having lost her husband’s love. The emotions of the speech are a good part of its power, and Farzetta matched the emotions precisely to the rhetoric.