Deputy News Editor Emma Burris and Staff Writers Gina Brown and Jack Rado attended performances of the Barnard Theatre Department production of Twelfth Night

In William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, nothing has a straightforward answer. The Duke of Illyria, Orsino (Taylor Richardson, GS ‘25), loves a countess, Olivia (Sydney Gerlach, BC ‘24), who wants nothing to do with him. Orsino hires a young man, Cesario (Thaleia Dasberg, BC ‘24), to negotiate for her hand, but instead the countess falls in love with the lowly messenger. This whole situation is complicated by the fact that Cesario isn’t a young man at all—he’s Viola, a woman who has just lost her livelihood and her twin brother, Sebastian (Maxwell Beck Seelig, CC ‘26), in a shipwreck off Illyria’s coast. A motley crew of uptight stewards, drunken uncles, and fools add levity—and a great deal of it—to the drama of this situation.

For the show, the Glicker-Milstein Theater was transformed into a ship, complete with several dozen thick ropes hanging down from the ceiling. Audience members were seated all around the stage, many on wooden benches, inches away from the actors. Moveable props only included a wooden crate, a barrel, and two chairs. Regardless, the actors were able to create a convincing story from just this. In one scene, the ropes would be lashed together to suggest the mast of a sailing ship; in another, they would fall down in bundles to recreate the tapestries of a medieval throne-room. They’re even used to tie up poor, abused Malvolio (John R. Howley, CC ‘25) at the end of the play. 

The music was similarly minimal, composed of simple strings that played throughout the production, further establishing ambience. Many songs were included during the show, melodies that were both extremely catchy and fit the atmosphere cultivated by the setting and background instruments. Sound designer and composer Eden Segbefia (BC ‘23) showed an intuitive understanding of the style of music most suitable for the show. Brooks Gillespie (BC ‘25) also created melodies for the show; her composition of the final song “The Wind and the Rain,” where the entire cast sang along, was a poignant and memorable way to end the performance.

By contrast, the costumes were, for the most part, rather involved and eclectic: Olivia, wearing a full goth-princess extravaganza, played against Sir Toby (Gillespie) in a cape and waistcoat, and Orsino was dressed in a flamboyant Mad Hatter-esque plaid vest with pants to match. A few costume choices were particularly inspired. In a slapstick sequence, Sir Toby snapped off the little pink party hat that Sir Andrew (Is Perlman, CC ‘25) was never seen without, which elicited a hearty laugh from the audience. The party hat functioned as a substitute for a knight’s helmet, highlighting Sir Andrew’s hilarity as did his comically small tie. The fool Feste (Esther Lee, CC ‘25) donned donkey ears, a physical representation of his being referred to as an “ass” by other characters. Antonio (Eduardo Ramirez, CC ‘25), however, exudes coolness, flipping on a pair of sunglasses as he said “That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.” Malvolio dons a tight black garment around his face and body, a choice reminiscent more of New York Fashion Week than that of a steward. Overall, the costumes in Twelfth Night served as a parallel to the characters’ charming quirks. Two notable exceptions were Viola and Sebastian, who were dressed in simple white shirts and blue sailors’ pants, possibly to separate them visually from the Illyrian natives. 

Feste and Olivia ponder, two examples of effective costuming choices. 

As a rule, all of the cast’s performances were strong; every actor worked hard to embody the witty, romantic, and chaotic nature of Shakespeare’s text. In particular, they made good use of the intimate space the Glicker-Milstein Theater provides, delivering certain asides directly to specific audience members and at one point dropping a megaphone in an unsuspecting theatergoer’s lap. Director Alice Reagan perfectly captured the nuances of the characters with respect to the original text, as well as adding a simultaneously antiquated yet modern touch. The comedy of the play was perfectly executed in both words and movements.

As for individual characters, Duke Orsino wonderfully exuded the confidence and body language of a self-satisfied, jovial nobleman, strutting around the stage in glittery eye makeup and boots. Richardson’s fiery red hair matched her character well. On the other hand, Olivia, the object of Orsino’s advances, played her part with the staid grace of an experienced noblewoman. Her aloofness made Shakespeare’s clapbacks even funnier, and provided a useful contrast with her later scenes, where she’s beside herself with love for Cesario.

Taylor Richardson as Duke Orsino. 

Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Sir Toby Belch were equally hilarious. Every turn of phrase was accompanied by a sardonic expression—it hardly mattered what they were saying, their faces showed it all. Whenever these two were on stage together, the audience was sure to laugh—a folie à deux of these two fools. The servant Maria (Ava Blum, BC ‘27) had well-placed and exuberant facial expressions, gleefully watching the events of the play transpire.

Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Feste, and Valentine (Mimi Wu, CC ‘26) sing, followed by Maria.

As one of the few serious characters on this ship of fools, Viola’s actress Dasberg had an interesting challenge in front of her, one she met with aplomb. In the moments she had to express lament or internal struggle, she did so without chewing up the scenery. In the moments where she was allowed to bring out her comedic side—for example, the quick mouth-twitch and look to the audience she gives when Orsino says “Cesario” reminds her of a woman—she did so subtly but effectively.

Orsino and Viola/Cesario talk. 

Malvolio was a standout performance. His devotion to Olivia grew from bordering on comical to the pinnacle of hilarity throughout the show. The scene of Malvolio reading the fake love letter from Olivia was the highlight of the entire night, as Howley’s vocal and physical acting stole the show. When Malvolio returned later dressed in yellow stockings and cross-gartered, slapping himself with promiscuity, he drew roaring laughs from the audience. Howley also captured intense upset and hurt, rare for a Shakespearean comedy. In scenes of being locked up and confronting Olivia, Malvolio broke down into painful tears, moving the audience and instilling feelings of secondhand suffering. While Howley’s performance was outstanding, some thought it overacting for a Shakespearean comedy where other moments of grief or sadness weren’t given the same extent of emotion. However, it also reminded viewers that this production was more than a typical comedy—Howley’s dramatic performance illuminated just how sorrowful Malvolio’s fate was, reminding the audience that not everyone got a happy ending.

Malvolio reads the letter. 

To review Twelfth Night and not discuss gender would be a crime. Of course, there is the obvious subversion of gender roles when Viola dresses up as a man and ends up looking just like her brother Sebastian, but this production goes even further by having other roles played by actors of different genders. Twelfth Night creates a space to play with traditional gender roles in a fun and comedic way. A play that may seem antiquated at first glance has a revitalized relevance in this interpretation. Actors of one gender may play a character of another, while a character like Malvolio seems almost genderless—donning a hood and black tunic—only to wear fanciful yellow stockings to gain the admiration of his beloved Olivia. Barnard’s production of Twelfth Night suggests that gender, like theater, is a performance. 

Olivia and Viola/Cesario speak.
Sebastian effortlessly holds off Sir Toby. 

In the program distributed at the performance, director Alice Reagan emphasized the inclusion of narratives of grief and loss told in a comedic setting. Characters experienced all types of grief, both before the play began and as it ran, ranging from loss of parents, siblings, friends, and hoped-upon lovers. Reagan stated, “I believe grief and loss are not experiences to run away from, but are feelings we would do well to weave into our daily lives…we are constantly changing, learning, growing, and leaving behind, even as we cling to the familiar.” In Reagan’s interpretation, Shakespeare highlights loss as a tool through themes of confusion and disarray, playing with the impact of different realities on his characters. Reagan continued, “for Shakespeare and for us, wholeness might not mean perfection or being perfectly happy in love,” ending, “Shakespeare has his eye on the clear light of tomorrow morning, when we may not be at our best, but we’ll be ourselves.” In the end, Twelfth Night left a remarkable impression on the audience, proving to be an unforgettable weekend of performances.


The Twelfth Night team was also dedicated to circular design and production practices. The production materials were 10% reused, 46% from departmental stock, and 44% bought new. Props purchased were 33% used, 26% from stock, and 42% new. Scenic materials were 53% from stock and 47% purchased new. As stated in the production program, the team’s goal was “to create a systemic, trackable, institutional approach to reducing the emissions created in the production of sets, props, and costumes. We believe that environmental impact should be a critical and necessary constraint of the artistic process, one that will make our work stronger and bring it more in tune with the world in which we live.”

Photos via Hunter Canning