Contact Us
American Players Theatre
5950 Golf Course Road
P.O. Box 819
Spring Green, WI 53588
(Map)
Box Office: 608-588-2361
Administration: 608-588-7401
Fax: 608-588-7085
American Players Theatre
5950 Golf Course Road
P.O. Box 819
Spring Green, WI 53588
(Map)
Box Office: 608-588-2361
Administration: 608-588-7401
Fax: 608-588-7085
The Heart Holds Multitudes
An instant of connection unfurls infinite possibilities – a single moment that explodes into shards, each projecting its own unique outcome. Every new relationship is exquisite in its promise. Whether it blazes on or burns out, it is unique to the people who share it. Love, after all, is the ultimate mind-bender, flowing through countless embodiments from beginning to end. Or to infinity. Or to any of the endless in-betweens – romantic, infuriating, dangerous, funny and ultimately, utterly human. A kaleidoscopic look at love, and the everyday decisions that echo endlessly through time. Running August 10 - September 28.
Featuring Phoebe González, Casey Hoekstra
Contains adult themes & language, and flashing lights & strobing effects. Please contact the Box Office at 608-588-2361, or email [email protected] for specifics.
Summary
When two people meet for the very first time, the possibilities may just literally be infinite. But what about their choices? Nick Payne’s dazzling, mind-bending romance, Constellations investigates humanity from every different angle through the eyes of Marianne and Roland – a string theorist and a beekeeper, each decision a fork in the road that leads to everywhere. A play about love, physics and how the choices we make echo through time.
Constellations - Portable Prologue (Apple Podcasts)
Constellations - Portable Prologue (Spotify)
Marry me in the multiverse: 'Constellations' at APT hits reset
Lindsay Christians, The Cap Times
If, If Only and What If: A Review of "Constellations" at American Players Theatre
Mary Wisniewski, NewCity Stage
Future Shock
Janet Clear, Isthmus
American Players Theatre's "Constellations" navigates romance in the multiverse
Aaron R. Conklin, Madison Magazine
Director's Note
When I was around seven years old, I learned that before meeting my father, my mom had dated a man from a very wealthy family. Let’s just say you’ve probably eaten this family’s ketchup. As a naïve little girl, I lamented to my mother, “Ah man mom, if you had stayed with him instead of dad I would have a horse right now!” Little did I know my mother’s experience with that guy would lead her to one day recommend to my older self to have “mad money” on hand, so I can independently grab a cab if I ever need to leave a date. But at that moment, she simply looked at me and gently said something like, “No honey, you wouldn’t have a horse.” Because duh! I wouldn’t have even existed. And what a brat to disrespect my father so. He passed away in 2011, of a glioblastoma. My mother would follow a little while after in 2018, due to complications with Parkinson's Disease. I miss them. They were really great parents and there is no way I’d be where I am right now without them. Literally! I am in awe when I reflect on the infinite number of random occurrences that happened in order to bring my parents together (including that my dad went on a date with my aunt first! Which is how he got introduced to my mom…but that’s a tale for another time).
Living in Nick Payne’s Constellations for these last several months has been a true gift, inviting moments of reflection like the above, inspired by possibilities within quantum theory and infinity. I hope it brings the same gift to you. A faith we are a part of something much larger than ourselves. Have no fear if you struggle to wrap your brain around physics of this nature (you won’t be alone!). Luckily we are in excellent hands with the gifted playwright, Nick Payne, who translates this science into art, into story, into a form that invites a moving experience of the possibilities behind the magic of connection.
And if you’ll allow me one more reflection of my mother - which I promise is relevant. Sitting at the kitchen table one night, I asked my mom what I thought was a simple question. I said, “Mom, when does space end?” While seated at the table my mom put her hand at the edge of the table while she said, “see how the table ends here?” “Uh huh,” I nodded. And with a simple gesture she lifted her hand up, off and away and said, “Well space doesn’t.”
- Vanessa Stalling, Director of Constellations