When I first conceived of this production in 2010, I was living in Montreal and operating Jingju Canada, a Beijing Opera theatre company. The original concept was high-concept, high-art, and demanded a high budget. Over the subsequent 15 years, a lot has changed in both my life and the world; yet The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet has remained like a sliver in my artistic soul.

The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet is not that two young people from opposing families fall in love. The tragedy is that they live in a world which refuses to allow them to express their love openly.  Verona is a loveless and violent polity ruled by fear, disdain and self-preservation. Even in this oppressive and urban landscape, the flowers of love can blossom — but they are never allowed to grow. They are pulled as weeds, exploited for their nectar, or plucked for vanity.

It takes the love of two children, not yet hardened by the politics of their world, to wake up their families to the true cost of violence: the loss of one's heart. But even this final revelation is tragic, for while the Montagues and Capulets are able to resolve their conflict in Act V, they are two houses without heirs. Their reconciliation is also the death knell of their families. Even the Prince has lost an heir. All Are Punished.

Love is a promise to grieve, for we cannot mourn what we do not love. But this does not mean we must stop loving. We must love more. Love fearlessly. Love loudly. Everything ends. The worst tragedy is to not allow love to begin.

— Nicholas Koy Santillo