On the journey of a lifetime to perform in England, the young actors of the Robinson Shakespeare Company experience the power of words and the dazzle of spectacle, the weight of history and the height of creativity.
After months of preparation and anticipation, the Robinson Shakespeare Company travels to England to perform Cymbeline and explore Shakespearean history in Stratford-upon-Avon and London.
Rome is the epicenter of the Catholic Church, but there is much more to the Eternal City than papal authority and Baroque architecture. It has many of the same problems that cities face the world over. East of the Vatican lies Termini railway station. Here, the train tracks end. So does the hope of the refugee.
I often ask myself if I love God. I know for sure that I want to love God with all my heart and soul and mind and being. But I don’t know if I do. Here is one thing I can point to.
Some things to know about Notre Dame, its life and times.
The Urban Plunge. Summer service projects. The Center for Social Concerns. Father Don McNeill, CSC, ’58, the man whose hunger and thirst for social justice created a culture of service learning inspired by Catholic social teaching that still beckons more than 85 percent of Notre Dame undergraduates toward volunteer work each year, died Thursday, August 24, at Holy Cross House near the Notre Dame campus. "Padre Don" was 81.
Thomas Bulla and Father Sorin were neighbors back when fugitive slaves were riding the Underground Railroad, their flight through South Bend aided by the man who lived about where Flanner Hall stands today — and whose sense of "neighbor" followed biblical ideals.
Rock ’n’ roll biographies generally aren’t much better than the National Enquirer. You get some growing-up snippets. The rest is about gold records, squabbles with band members or record companies, and romances with women named Britt, Anita or Marianne. The reason you read is you have hope that you might find a worthy book. You win with Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run.
The fruit on the tree of gratitude often hangs surprisingly low.
Ophelia Emmons is named after the Ophelia, of Denmark, so Ophelia of Indiana’s place on the Shakespearean stage seems like a matter of destiny. She rejects any stars-aligning interpretation.
Pioneers, priests and warriors invade the Potawatomi world.
Blank! The Musical, created by Michael Girts ’07MBA, isn’t your typical musical — and not just because it is all improvised.
When you're saying goodbye to one of the greats, the moment just speaks for itself.
I still remember the thrill I got years ago when I finished hanging wall shelves in my bedroom closet. It was the first time I’d actually drilled holes in walls and the first time I’d ever attempted a home improvement project. Michelle Janning, author of The Stuff of Family Life, would, I think, be proud of me.
For an hour Thursday morning, the stage at the Globe Theatre in London belonged to the Robinson Shakespeare Company.
Campus security here. Asking you to, ah, take a bite outta crime.
To understand their daughter's rare disease, a couple turns to Notre Dame.
Ara Parseghian, whose Fighting Irish teams won two national championships during his tenure as head football coach from 1963 to 1974, died early this morning (August 2) at his home in Granger, Indiana. We republish this interview piece written in 2014 by then-alumni editor Kevin Brennan ’07, along with stories about the Parseghian family’s battle against a rare disease and their ongoing contributions to scientific research at Notre Dame, in his honor.
Everyone has a saturation point. After a rainy walk across London’s Tower Bridge on Wednesday afternoon, facing the prospect of watching a three-hour outdoor performance, members of the Robinson Shakespeare Company approached theirs.
Robinson Shakespeare Company members take in the sights in London.
A glimpse into the lighter moments during the Robinson Shakespeare Company's adventure in England — from the struggle against jet lag on their first day to whiffs of 16th-century scents in a box to the sweet taste of mulberries fresh from a tree on William Shakespeare's land.
The plane’s engine gently comes to life, subtle and quiet as a dishwasher, and soon we accelerate through takeoff, forced back into our seats by the mounting speed. I turn to the only other passengers — a mother and her son, who one month ago suffered extensive burns over his body, burns that are healing, but not well. “Eske nou anfom?” — Are you OK? — I ask.