Director

Scenic Designer

Costume Designer

Lighting Designer

Sound Designer

Technical Director

Scenic Charge

Properties Heads

Production Manager

Stage Manager

Nisi Sturgis

Will Sexton

Hetag Tsabolov

Kyle Wurtz

Sarah Calvert

Ryan Schultz

Kate Spademan

Bridgette Dona, Kenneth W Church

Julia Colpitts

Meghan Kegeris

OLYMPE DE GOUGES

CHARLOTTE CORDAY

MARIE-ANTOINETTE

MARIANNE ANGELLE

u/s CHARLOTTE CORDAY / Ensemble Crew

u/s OLYMPE DE GOUGES / Ensemble Crew

u/s MARIE ANTOINETTE / Ensemble Crew

ENSEMBLE CREW

Lauren Ashley Hayes

Kim Fernandez

Vivien Cohen

Noelle Moriah Klyce

Cocoa Afonso

Gina White

Gracie Benson

Konstanza Stormont, Madelyn Childress, Evan Arnold

Director’s Notes

So, the “revolution” the title of this play refers to is the French one back in the late 1700s. That blade in the air is made for a guillotine (gee-oteen if you want to sound all French about it), which is a method of execution that got verrry popular in that particular time and place.

It’s pretty secure up there. I wouldn’t worry about it.

The ”-ists” the title refers to are four women. You may recognize some of them from your history classes. You may not.

A thing about a big revolution like the French one:

One person’s treason is another person’s liberty.

One person’s murder is another person’s capital punishment.

One person’s insanity is another person’s genius.

It depends on who wins.

History, as they say, is written by the victors. And the victors are, historically, men. So women are, historically, foutues.

Especially the revolutionary ones. The radical, subversive, insurgent, rebellious, rioting, anarchistic, defiant, disobedient women are all too easily labeled crazy, emotional, weak, slutty, bitchy, hormonal, hysterical, irrational by those who fear them. They are dismissed and forgotten or remembered as cautionary tales or—worst— punchlines.

Still, history is not set in stone. When new facts emerge, it gets revisited.

Contexts become evident, complexities are unraveled, and legacies are recast.

Anyway, you aren’t in a history class—you’re in a theater. You’re here to see and hear a story. Why? Were you dragged? Did you think it’d be fun? Are you starting to worry you’ve made a horrible mistake? Did you think something interesting might happen: you might be entertained, surprised, moved? Did you think this play might matter? Does it matter?

You’re in Urbana, Illinois in 2022 watching a made-up play about four women in eighteenth-century Paris. So what? It’s funny— one of the characters is a playwright wondering if her work can make a difference (in a play written by a playwright wondering if her work can make a difference).

We are not in control of our legacies, no matter how much we try with famous last words, names on buildings, memoirs, wills, curated social media pages. In the end, once we’ve sailed off, it isn’t up to us what we leave in our wake. It’s up to the people who tell our story.

The fact is, we are in a constant state of revolution, of growth and change—sometimes violent, sometimes gentle, sometimes great, sometimes nearly imperceptible, sometimes French, sometimes not-so-French. That kind of revolution gets helped along by stories like this one that might entertain, surprise, move you. So, in whatever way, this story will be part of your revolution, your change, and the histories of these women will then be written by you.

And that matters.

Revolutionists Playlist