An Interview with Dreams-in-Scenes, Hearts Week Guest Director
By Calvus Arcadia, Chronicler for Arts & Artistry

As I prepared for my interview with the esteemed Argonian stage director, Dreams-in-Scenes, I began to worry about the cacophony of carpenters only a stone's throw away from our shaded meeting place. The rapping of hammers and roar of handsaws made for a less-than-ideal backdrop to our interview, an already difficult to schedule back-and-forth squeezed into what little free time the director had available. However, as no doubt those of you familiar with the director already know, I had no reason to fear.

Dreams-in-Scenes entered with a laugh that could fill an opera house twice over. She wore a green, crushed velvet dress, clasped at the back with a gold brooch in the shape of an Argonian egg nest. A symbol of new beginnings, she explained. Without any strain or effort, Dreams-in-Scenes projected her voice over the constant drum of carpentry and thus, our interview began.

Chronicler: I know how busy you are Dreams—may I call you Dreams?

Dreams: If it pleases you, dear.

Chronicler: Dreams, I first want to delve into the inspirations behind this new work of yours, which, if I understand correctly, is a devised piece?

Dreams: You are correct. I thought it prudent that the play be a celebration of love on all levels. And what is love if not a shared labor between hearts and minds?

Chronicler: So, is that to say this is an original work?

Dreams: In part, as all devised plays are. But the core of the work, the flame at its center, is of course the Legend of the Lovers.

Chronicler: Polydor and Eloisa?

Dreams: What celebration of Hearts Day would be complete without at least a blushing nod toward that tragic couple?

Chronicler: So, one part retelling and one part reimagining?

Dreams: Reimagining? Hmm, yes. A recontextualization. A reorientation. A reigniting.

Chronicler: Remarkable.

Dreams: I think so often about the sensibilities of contemporary audiences. Gone are the years of quietly interrogating a play's themes and values. Now, I often find rabbles of theatergoers huddled outside playhouses, wrestling not with the work itself, but with a perceived merit measured against such mindless drivel as plot holes and unlikable characters.

Chronicler: Yes, yes. I've noticed this, too.

Dreams: So, I asked my troupe members, why not wrestle with these audience members ourselves? Why not tussle, not with our fists, but our artistry? Thus, our reinterpretation was born. A retelling of the Legend of the Lovers lifted as a grand epic.

Chronicler: That is quite the departure from the tragic play's often dour depictions.

Dreams: Yes, indeed. But if stories are to survive, they must change with the times, yes? And I hear my critics now. How dare she reduce tragedy to fashionable action? To which I say, do the commoners not deserve art?

Chronicler: That's profound, Dreams. Truly profound.

Dreams: Now, are there any final thoughts? Questions?

Chronicler: Only one more. A quick one. How did you come to be selected as the festival's guest director?

Dreams: I met Kuzam-jo, the Priest of Mara organizing the week's festivities, years ago after I coordinated a traveling puppet play that visited orphanages across southern Tamriel. When he first began to dream up these expansive festivities, he reached out to me. Said he had never before seen a play that so captured a child's unburdened joy.

Chronicler: So the week-long event was his decision?

Dreams: Who else could dream up such an expansive celebration? Kuzam-jo has always carried a heart big enough for the entire continent, a week-long event only scratches at the surface of the love he has to give.

Chronicler: Thank you, Dreams. This has been such a pleasure.

Dreams: Yes, I imagine it was.