New Play Festival always arrives at an interesting time for me—a moment in the year that feels like closing one chapter and stepping into another. It’s a time for reflection, for preparing to grieve what has passed, and to remain open to what’s to come.

My first NPF was marked by personal loss, and I found myself directing a play that grappled with generational trauma, ancestry, and the ghosts—both literal and metaphorical—that linger around us. This year, I find myself orbiting similar themes once again. Mortality surfaces repeatedly in many of these scripts, alongside an aching desire for simple human connection.

Back in January, I spoke with Lisa Schlesinger, co-head of Playwriting, as I began preparations to direct 13 new plays written by undergraduate playwrights. I asked her what common thread might link these diverse voices. She told me about the initial prompt given to the writers: three cubes and a ghostlight.

As we began building these multiple worlds, I kept returning to the ghostlight—its symbolism, its permanence, its quiet watchfulness. In collaboration with our ensemble and dramaturg Adrian Enzastiga, we leaned into the idea of the performers as ghosts—spirits who haunt the theatre, waiting for their chance to perform again, or for the first time.

This piece is dedicated to those who never had the chance to live their dreams.

To the 13 playwrights: thank you for your trust, your vulnerability, and your words.

To the department: thank you for making space for these voices and for continuing to uplift the work of the Undergraduate Playwrights Workshop.

Thank you.