A Note from the Director:

Ubu Roi (King Ubu) iconoclastically interrupted theatrical tradition when it premiered on December 10, 1896. The groundbreaking absurdist satire by the 23-year-old Alfred Jarry caused a riot in the theater during both of the two performances of its very brief run. Jarry introduced profanity and anti-government sentiment to the canon of European dramatic literature as he attacked the bourgeois sense of decency and propriety. With the exuberance of youth, the playwright had the now-iconic Ubu step down to the footlights and shout “Merde!” (“Shit!”) as the first word of spoken dialogue. He then goes on to liberally pepper the oath throughout his text. Having blasted through this linguistic taboo, he continues his assault on convention as his characters mock the King, deride bourgeois morality, and question established religious doctrine; i.e. the sacrament of marriage, the divine right of kings, and the sanctity of the Ten Commandments of the Old Testament. 

A harbinger and precursor to the Dada movement in art and as protest art since it was first translated into English in 1951 and subsequently into other European languages. The Czech version of the play was banned in that country after the 1968 Soviet invasion. In 1998, an adaptation was produced to focus on the emotional fallout of the atrocities committed during Apartheid that were revealed by the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission. A Polish adaptation was produced as a film in 2003 to protest the rife political corruption in Poland after the fall of Communism. In short, this little play has had a huge influence throughout its artistic life. 

The students performing for you tonight are around the same age as Jarry when he wrote and premiered his work. They, like the young playwright, wrestled with its characters, themes, and complexities as they joyfully adapted a translation of his play script into their twenty-first-century  language. I want to emphasize that they have maintained fidelity to the original plot and spirit of the French-language original - no mean task and one for which they should be very proud.

King Ubu remains, essentially, a revolutionary work of comedic brutality; its message as potent today as when it premiered at the end of the nineteenth century. Now, in 2026, as these talented students step bravely into the arena of public discourse, I encourage you to join them in this raucous celebration of rebellion with a similarly audacious spirit as they laugh at the King, speak truth to power, and exercise their right to engage in vigorous dissent - a foundational touchstone of our beloved democracy - which, if it is to continue for any length of time, will need every one of them as courageously engaged as was our brilliant young playwright one hundred and thirty years ago.