Written for Hamlet, who suffers from the only thing worse than paranoia.

Being right.

His self-destruction is a measured, deliberate process, and as my friend played him I watched as he went mad with a steady beat. Each measure inevitable, and self-aware. I felt genuine empathy for this prince.

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In 2020 I was in a production of Hamlet.

Watching my fellow actors work I started to jot down a few notes, based on their movements, their cadences. This started a Hamlet suite of compositions that were unfortunately cut down by the COVID lockdown. I often think of returning to this suite, but without the players, I feel I have no muse. Perhaps again sometime.