The opportunity to stage this play in the small, black-box Windsor Theatre, in a small university town was welcome. It was certain that none of the audience had any expectations from the story, even though many will have had some experience reading Greek tragedy in translation. The choice of Children of Heracles was motivated in part by the opportunity to perform this rarely seen work, free of the presuppositions that it is 'bad' Euripides. It also allowed us for the first time to divide all roles between only three actors, for which, see C. W. Marshall, "The Rule of Three Actors in Practice", Text and Presentation 15 (1994): 53-61.

	The chorus of three women were made as non-naturalistic as possible, their angular and at times feral movements, with the striking make-up complemented their unison speaking and singing of all choral lines (including those often assigned to a Chorus Leader).
	The role divisions in the play were assigned as follows: one actor played Iolaus and Eurystheus; a second actor played Copreus, Macaria, and Alc mene; the third played Demophon, the Servant and the Messenger. All three can be seen here in their initial incarnations: Demophon, Copreus, and Iolaus, with the Chorus.

The sanctuary area , sacred to Zeus, was marked out on the black fl oor. Within this was a copper flame-like sculpture, and twelve students from the local elementary school, coaxed into being the mute title characters of the play. All were about ten years old, and their continued presence through the play helped to give the stage a life of its own. It was never possible to forget their presence and their dependence on Iolaus and Alcmene. The young actors moved and made sounds in response to the threat posed by characters as they came in, and served as a very functional guide for the emotional levels of the play, which are constantly changing (cf. C. W. Marshall, "The Children of Heracles in The Children of Heracles",Text and Presentation 19 (1998), forthcoming). Costumes generally were stylised, generic, twentieth-century clothes, not from any consistant decade or geographical area.

	Here, Macaria (the Copreus-actor) crouches and says goodbye to her siblings, who are clustering around her, while Iolaus looks on. The entrance to the sanctuary temple is visible upstage.
	Alcmene (the Copreus-Macaria actor) berates the servant bearing news about Eurystheus, while Iolaus tries to set her straight. Unlike the earlier Electra production, there was no effort made at keeping the role divisions invisible.
	Arms are taken from within the temple, and an on-stage comic arming scene followed, in which Iolaus' expectations of himself outperform any reasonable audience expectations.
	The Messenger (who was the Servant and Demophon-actor) relates the battle narrative while the Chorus listen. The inadequacy of thinking of this character as just the Messenger became very clear in the rehearsal process: all decisions about his voice, intonation, costume, involved turning him into a real person, and not just a function.
	When the Iolaus-actor returns as the enemy hero Eurystheus, the children respond negatively, fleeing the same actor from whom they had earlier sought protection. Alcmene's insults to the captive became more poignant, and from the performer's perspective, the conclusion was sufficiently satisfying: there was no sense of a substantial lacuna at the play's conclusion.

In many ways, this production marked the beginning of a number of features fond in later plays done by MASC, including:

1. An aggressive use of the Chorus, not apologizing for its presence but seeking to present it meaningfully, with its complexiti es.
2. Use of authentic role division for the non-choral parts, believing this to be an essential part of the way ancient playwrights developed characters.
3. Use of contemporary design, consciously suited for the modern theatrical idiom of the given performance space, whether it be a small black-box or an outdoor found space.

© C.W. Marshall 1997 Last updated March 2000