On a warm early-September night, Pete Townshend propels his arm into his signature windmill-thrashing of his guitar to the roar of the thousands who have attended the final concert The Who will ever play in Toronto.
Standing with my eleven-year-old son among the sea of fans in the audience, we listen as Townshend regales us that as a young boy, he read Shakespeare, and that this influenced his lyrical ability. “But of course, you’ve got the Stratford Festival,” he remarks with ringing endorsement. “I’ve had some wonderful times there, and if you haven’t been, you really should go!”
I attended this concert with my son to expose him to the great cultural import of this band, of what their songs have meant and their impact on everyone in the audience clinging to each note. For the exact same reasons, we found ourselves, only a few days later, at the Stratford Festival—on Pete Townshend’s recommendation, of course—comfortably seated in the state-of-the-art Tom Patterson Theatre to experience this season’s productions of The Winter’s Tale and Forgiveness.
Together, we talk about why Shakespeare is considered among the most influential people of the last millennium, alongside Newton and Einstein. He didn’t discover the laws of motion and gravity or the curvatures of space and time. He held up a mirror to our faces, reflecting the human condition in a manner as didactic as inspirational and entertaining. That language of human emotion resonates with as much clarity, depth and relevance today as when it was written. But these plays were not written to be read, but to be acted, to be experienced. As Townshend said, "[we’ve] got the Stratford Festival." Where better to experience the best acting ensemble in Canada breathing life into words, emotions and worlds that speak so profoundly to us?
The lights dim. The actors take the stage. We watch.
The Winter’s Tale explores the infection of jealousy. King Leontes, masterfully played by Graham Abbey, asks, “Is whispering nothing?” His mind twists reality. Like a sickness, his jealousy untreated destroys relationships and the lives of those he loves. The incomparable Yanna McIntosh plays Paulina who, on lamenting the death of Hermione, scolds that jealousy is the cause of unjust suffering: “It is a heretic that makes the fire, not she which burns in’t.” Winter becomes the metaphor for loneliness and the summers lost.
None of this is lost on my son who, observing this demonstration of consequence, becomes educated. We talk about the “what-ifs” after bearing witness to human nature and developing a better understanding of it. “It was so compelling” he tells me. “Not just the story, but how the actors played their parts—they really became their characters, and I really believed them!” In theatre, the audience is immersed in the world of the play, so we can feel that intimacy with the actors on the stage, rather than passively viewing a screen.
Our conversation ensues, and there is so much to talk about! The language, the chemistry between actors, their presence and facility in movement across the stage, the stagecraft and lighting, the intensity of scenes that bring us to tears—and why.
There are as many perspectives to a story as there are characters in it. We talk about each one them. The resolute beauty and command of Sarah Topham’s every word and gesture as Hermione pleads her innocence, and in the end, King Leontes’ realization that fulfillment of the prophesy that reunites his family does not include his only son. These are powerful moments which expose my son to thoughts and life lessons hitherto unknown to him. “Seeing this production makes me think more about Shakespeare,” he tells me, “how someone could come up with all of that, and all of his other plays.” His curiosity is sparked—in theatre, in Shakespeare, in live connections—as well as his sensitivity toward what can happen, followed by accountability and the chance time affords to amend it.
Abbey, who is directing A Midsummer Night’s Dream for the 2026 Festival season, shares that, “In theatre we learn to practice empathy. You spend time in a space with other people, all meditating on a piece of theatre. There is something unique about that. It doesn’t come at you, it’s a communal experience of empathy.” For a younger audience there is opportunity in this that seldom exists elsewhere. Moreover, there are so many distractions today to decrease a child's ability to focus, from devices to soundbites, but theatre engages us for longer periods of time, and stimulates so many questions for dialogue.
One question that Abbey poses is about unbridled power, which children need to understand, too. “What happens when someone in authority is doing something that you know is off-base, but they’re unchecked?” This is a major theme of The Winter’s Tale, and one that we also see playing out in global politics today. How do we defy that? The character of Paulina provides an example of the courage, the temerity to do just that.
In Forgiveness the personal stories of yesteryear revealed before our eyes parallel virulent xenophobia that many communities face today. Collective prejudice in response to global crises and social change is top of mind in those who fear for their security, whether online or in their homes, due to burgeoning antisemitism, transphobia or a host of other forms of racism. How do we talk about this with our children? As Shakespeare wrote, “The play’s the thing.”
Canadians today acknowledge the need for Truth and Reconciliation, but our children still do not learn in school about the unsavoury chapters in our history.
During the World Wars and the interregnum between them, Canada enforced the Chinese Immigration Act, the “None is Too Many" restrictiveness toward Jewish Immigrants, and the internment and disenfranchisement of Canadian citizens of Japanese heritage. Forgiveness takes us back to this time of turmoil in which fear breeds hate, and innocence is inverted into guilt by (perception of) association. The heroism of the protagonists is shown in their trauma and in their resilience—one as soldier, one as civilian—through war, survival and survivor’s guilt. Their timelines converge around the dinner table where their respective hardships are acknowledged with humility and humanity.
Sharing this with a child is an invaluable experience. We live in a multicultural society that teaches our children about anti-bullying and inclusiveness and yet the tired bromides of the past remain, as we encounter daily news of racial intimidation. Watching this production, brilliantly written and directed to weave multiple narratives around the through-line, we see the connections between childhood name-calling and systemic racism manifested in War Measures Acts that stripped Japanese Canadians of their rights. For my son to watch the effects on the characters in this play, whose day to day lives are not too dissimilar from his own, is powerful. As Mitsue Sakamoto, played by Yoshie Bancroft, sardonically chants “Oh Canada!” we can feel it, and we are forced to ask ourselves what does “true patriot love” really mean to us—and require of us.
It's the conversations that these stories inspire that are paramount to the experience. On our walk home, we agree that what makes a country “great” is not the whitewashing of history to promote national feelings of exceptionalism; it’s the recognition of past sins in order to create and maintain a more just society. Even my eleven-year-old son has the awareness to say, “We should learn about these things, and embrace them, and try to learn from them, because otherwise it happens again.”
Going to the theatre with a child is not just about finding kid-friendly shows, it’s about introducing literacy, culture and critical thinking about the larger issues in life that they will one day confront, because “All the worlds a stage.” To do so at the Stratford Festival is such a joy. The walk along the river to and from the theatre, itself, is beautiful. But the energy of the performance, the unique storytelling, the self-awareness it evokes in the eyes of a child, and the imagination it inspires, raises the curtains on all the wonderful possibilities for which, as Paulina instructs, “It is required you do awake your faith.”