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…Everyone’s Carol

If we had a million dollars…wouldn’t change a thing.

Think Anthropologie meets the 19th century and everyman. We don’t want, in any way, to deny that we are performing in 2017, in the now. But we don’t want to scream anything particular regarding place, period, or time. You could meet these people on the street, see them on the subway.

This book. This little book.

I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.
Their faithful Friend and Servant,
C. D.

We would do this on Broadway…the text is at the heart of it all.

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13 chairs on stage. 13 performers and a lone violinist. A pocket watch, specifically mindful of the time as it passes. A candle in a Mason jar. A trinkle of snow. Each person carries a book. Some casually carries a bag, as if they are traveling somewhere.

It’s simple. It’s elegant. They’re going to tell us a story.

The text. We are all familiar with it. We know it. Yet, let’s hear it again, anew.


In London in 2014, Everyone’s Carol actually partnered with Anthropologie and Urban Outfitters EU, an organization that had a significant influence over the development of our aesthetic, particularly the wardrobe of the ensemble. There’s a certain ease and comfort to this style. Timeless. Classic. During our holiday in London, the Everyone’s Carol ensemble moved through the flagship store at Richmond on the Thames, telling that same old story. Laughter, music, and caring voices that assured us that there was another opportunity for each and every one. A second chance. Welcome to Anthropologie on this night, join us inside for a familiar story, but hear it for the first time, again. 

The Script

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The script is bound into old hardback copies of the story, A Christmas Carol in Prose, Being a Ghost Story of Christmas. Each member of the ensemble has their own text, to be kept with them, read from, referred to. When it is said that we were clinging to the text, it will be true. Even when not guided literally by it at all, you may still carry it with you, clutching it as a security blanket, keeping the story and all it conveys close to the heart.

We still give meaningful books as gifts, sharing stories we care about with people we care about. There will never be anything that can replace the feel of the book in your hand, the anticipation as the story unfolds with each turn of the page. This little book, published in 1843, 174 years ago, still has a profound effect on lives all over the world. Do you remember the first copy you had?

We cannot forget that it started as a story scribbled madly down on paper by a man obsessed with this message of hope. So, what other way should the story be passed on but from the page it was created? There is care in the words. We feel it an honor to steward those on to you.     


Over the years, we have been fortunate to meet people who have also been touched in some way by this little book. Particularly some folks who understand the value of the word on the page, the feel of the hardback cover in your hand. For the first few years that we inserted the script into vintage covers of the text, LeAnne and Dave Meadows Bookbinding in Atlanta, Georgia, were our partners in the endeavor; taking our adaptation and putting it in the hands of the ensemble in a familiar package. For this year, and our performances at the Morgan Library & Museum and St. Marks in the Bowery, we met an additional kindred spirit in Henry Bookbinding, in NYC. Find out more about Henry in this article in the New York Times.

Telling this story. Everyone in the audience, each ensemble member, hearing this text for the first time again.