[In the following excerpt, Whittaker provides an account of Guthrie's staging of All's Well That Ends Well for the Stratford Festival, maintaining that the production "tops … every other performance at Stratford since, in sheer theatrical magic."]

On December 9, 1952, the announcement of the first Festival programme was made. At Mr. Guinness' suggestion, it stated, the plays would be Richard III and All's Well That Ends Well.

The names of other people who were to create Stratford's Festival were beginning to be known. That of Tanya Moiseiwitsch had been announced with those of Dr. Guthrie and Mr. Guinness on October 1. Her association with the Festival has outlasted those of either Dr. Guthrie or Mr. Guinness; her contribution was not a whit less valuable. The shape of the stage and the theatre, the vision of the productions to come, are all evidence of the contribution of this remarkable artist. The names of Cecil Clarke, the Festival's first production manager, and his wife, Jacqueline Cundall, who created the property department, were made known early in January. Mr. Clarke's ability to plan and organize was to be one of the young Festival's greatest assets.

Then came the news of Mr. Guinness' co-star. It was to be Irene Worth, the California-born actress who had won such high praise as Portia and Desdemona at London's famous Old Vic. Other names were soon to be listed, those of Ray Diffen to head the wardrobe department, and of two actors selected by Dr. Guthrie, one Douglas Campbell, the other Michael Bates. Mr. Diffen was to work miracles of cutting in the Stratford workshops for the next five years. Mr. Campbell was to continue as one of Stratford's most vigorous forces.

In the meantime, Dr. Guthrie had made his emphatic appearance on the Canadian scene. His warning that the Festival must hew to the high line of classical theatre, avoid Tudor touches and never think of itself as a mere tourist attraction set Stratford on a path of artistic austerity from which it has rarely strayed.

Dr. Guthrie's first visit was merely advisory. When next he came it was to scout for Canadian talent in a remarkable whirlwind visit to Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto, during which he made uncanny judgments in a rapid succession of five-minute interviews. With him on that return trip he brought the model of Tanya Moiseiwitsch's design for the Stratford stage, that simple yet subtle classical facade set on a three-step platform.

This stage was to be housed in a tent on the banks of the River Avon. It was to be no ordinary tent, but the largest theatrical tent in North America, second in size only to the Ringling Brothers' circus home. Four poles, a ton and a half each, rose sixty feet in the air, and ten miles of guy rope and cable held taut the canvas. All such rigging was under the personal supervision of the legendary tent man, Skip Manley.

On a day when the face of the civilized world was turned to London awaiting the coronation of the young woman who was to make us all Elizabethans again, the actors gathered at Stratford. They assembled at the Agricultural Hall in the Fair Grounds, wearing the look of the chosen ones, but not quite certain how the chosen were expected to behave. Dr. Guthrie shepherded them in encouragingly and the doors closed on the first rehearsal of the Stratford company.

While the actors thumped about on a mock-up stage in the Agricultural Hall, work proceeded on the tent by the river. Then, the day before the opening, the dedication of the Festival took place. After church, the citizens of Stratford, in summer Sunday garb, entered the tent for the first time, gazed at its billowing blue interior, discreetly eyed such notables as Dr. Guthrie, Mr. Guinness and Miss Worth, and settled down to hear five of their ministers ask blessings for the enterprise. Then tall Dr. Guthrie presented to the Festival's first president, Dr. Harry Show-alter, the flag sent from the Memorial Theatre at Stratford-on-Avon, in Shakespeare's own Warwickshire.

For All's Well That Ends Well, [Tanya Moiseiwitsch] and Dr. Guthrie had decided on a period that was no period—modern, yet fanciful, with a wardrobe that ranged from the most elegant ballgowns to army suntans. Blood-red and black, leather and gold were replaced by cool delicate shades.

Dr. Guthrie's courage in tackling All's Well That Ends Well was rewarded by a most clear, concise statement of a world of honour and guile, priggishness and yearning, which we were induced to accept without question. Helena became a true lady made devious by love, Bertram a reasonable, unthinking deserter. Their coming together at the end of the evening was an occasion for joy.

In his skilful placing of emphasis Dr. Guthrie was immeasurably aided by some superb playing, particularly by Irene Worth as Helena. From her first silent entrance, gazing so longingly after Bertram, Miss Worth had power to move us to tears. She convinced us of her passion before ever she spoke, and we were committed to support her in every device she found to win her love.

There were wonderful moments in this play, but never tableaux: the Countess reading beneath her sunshade; Helena, in a wonderfully classic black dress and grey-blue doctor's robe, wheeling the pale King in a bathchair; Parolles trapped in ambush, betraying himself in an anguish of terror; the splendid ballroom scene in which Dr. Guthrie made the pat winding-up of the plot seem a grand finale we had been eagerly anticipating all evening. The undeniable ladies and gentlemen of rank in full evening dress, the slim young officers vying for Helena's affection and finally, Helena herself, lighting up the whole stage in her sweeping yellow dress, brought a sense of extraordinary satisfaction to the last scenes of the play.

The first season's Richard III provided the most exciting night in the history of Canadian theatre but the second night's All's Well That Ends Well topped it, and every other performance at Stratford since, in sheer theatrical magic, in its discovery of breathless beauty in a dark old Shakespearean comedy.

The most startling result of that first year at Stratford was the range of its success. From the very beginning, the concept of Stratford intrigued a widespread public. From half-way around the world came requests for tickets. From New York came the leading critics, led by Brooks Atkinson of the New York Times. The lovers of Shakespeare in the theatre recognized Stratford as the first full experiment in Shakespearean production along the lines laid down by William Poel and Granville Barker. The general public, who had heard Shakespeare spoken well of all their lives, suspected that this time they might find out what it was all about from "that Alec Guinness". The nationalists were prepared to find something to cheer about, and were startled when they did not have to lead the cheers themselves. Materialistic Canada, tired of being told it had no culture, was able to point smugly to Stratford and still gauge it as a recognizable achievement, from the box-office returns.