And now for something completely Shakespearean…

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged). Well, the title pretty much says it all. Three actors, as themselves, present (as promised) 37 plays in 97 minutes. The Complete Works was created by the Reduced Shakespeare Company and first performed in the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 1987. The deconstruction and consolidation of Shakespeare’s works would prove a smash hit in England, playing at the Criterion Theatre in London for nine years. The play is currently enjoying a return engagement this summer at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival in Boscobel.

After a brief poll of the audience checking to see who has read King John, the play gets things started with that deathless classic Romeo & Juliet, establishing the sort of evening you are in for. There are the actors, some costume pieces, wigs and in this instance, a wheelbarrow full of props (not to mention the sassy prop mistress/actress). They find various ways of distilling the various tragedies: Othello is performed as a rap, Titus Andronicus as a cooking show, Macbeth is reduced to a single duel complete with overzealous Scottish accents, etc. The comedies are combined into one singular play, as most of them are pretty much formulaic. The history plays are presented as a football game. And so on and so forth…

The script allows room for considerable improvisation and there is no third wall to the action, with consistent acknowledgment and awareness of the audience right from the very start. This later devolves into audience participation in the second act, which is entirely devoted to Hamlet, plus three encores. The sonnets receive their moment in the spotlight – on an index card to be passed around the audience from row to tow. Plus, they also manage to sneak in a bit about the Shakespeare Apocrypha. (That professor of mine should be thrilled).

The three actors taking on this mammoth lampoon are Chris Edwards, Jason O’Connell and Kurt Rhoads. Together, they play an immense number of characters from all plays. Think Man #1 and Man #2 from The 39 Steps, a similarly British romp with considerable parallels. It’s silly, it’s wittty, it’s farce. All three work well with one another, a testament also to director and Artistic Director of HVSF, Terry O’Brien. Back when I sat in on rehearsal, I got to see the four of them work on various sections of the piece. They ran various bits again and again, each time becoming more solid and infinitely funnier just from an hour in the rehearsal room.

Edwards particularly shines in his solo moments with the audience, particularly after the other two have run off at the end of Act One. He’s also a superb foil to the lunacy of the other two (though he’s a riot as Juliet’s nurse). Rhoads displays unexpectedly hilarious gravitas in his sly deconstruction of serious Shakespearean actors, running the gamut from Jack Benny to Charlton Heston. O’Connell gets to do the most outrageous aspects, splaying Shakespearean ingenues as dithering, vomit-prone sprites and tapping into an accomplished trunk of celebrity impersonations. (Two of his standouts include Queen Gertrude as played by Carol Channing and King Claudius by way of Jack Nicholson).

The play is for the most part hilarious, though some sketches work better than others. For instance the set-up for Titus is infinitely funnier than the punchline. O’Connell comments at one point that the tragedies are funnier than the comedies, and in this case that is true. The Hamlet portion is funny, but a bit overlong. However, it’s worth it for the three encores, each one subsequently more outrageous than the first. In spite of those minor quibbles, it doesn’t detract from the overall enjoyment of the sheer lunacy at hand.

During the second act, three things crossed my mind: The 39 Steps, Monty Python and Anna Russell. All three, much like this work, are extracted from an uncanny British sense of humor, reveling in absurdity and steeped in comic tradition and wit. The first two complement Complete Works in its style and structure. Opera parodist Anna Russell popped in my head because she did one of her famed opera analyses on the fictional Verdi opera Hamletto, or Prosciuttino, which itself is a thinly-veiled deconstruction of Hamlet.

I once again brought my friend Dana along, who as an average theatregoer stressed the overwhelming amount of fun she had, especially evidenced at her inability to contain her laughter at Ophelia’s drowning. It’s a rare crowdpleaser, like the sort of small-scale theatrical events that used to dominate Off-Broadway in the days of yore. If you know someone who hates Shakespeare, bring them to this one. If they really hate it, put them in the front row. If you love Shakespeare, you should already have your tickets.

Meanwhile, I return for one last visit this Thursday for the third and final entry in the HVSF season, Pericles.

Tony Awards Tribute to Robert Preston

The theatre world lost one of its brightest stars in 1987 when two-time Tony winner Robert Preston died of lung cancer. Preston, a character actor who worked steadily in mostly B-pictures was turned into a major star when he originated the part of Harold Hill in The Music Man, leading the 39 year old actor onto a new career path as musical theatre leading man. Not bad for a person who’d never sung before in his life.

The year of his death, the Tony Awards brought two of his leading ladies, Barbara Cook (The Music Man, 1957) and Bernadette Peters (Mack and Mabel, 1974) onstage in a tribute to their leading man, followed by a rendition of “76 Trombones” led by a chorus and an enormous marching band. Incidentally, Angela Lansbury, the host for the evening, costarred with Preston in the 1960 film adaptation of The Dark at the Top of the Stairs.

One More Time Round and Round the Garden


So in spite of the recession and being broke as a joke on coke, I decided that for my birthday I would treat myself to the final marathon of The Norman Conquests on July 26. The Tony-winning revival, imported from the Old Vic, ends its limited run on that Sunday, and I will be there to cheer on one of the greatest ensemble casts ever assembled. The trilogy of plays by Alan Ayckbourn tells the story of a dysfunctionally melancholy family over the course of a single weekend some time in the 1970s. Each successive play takes place in a separate part of the house, creating a gigantic theatrical puzzle of characters and situations, all based in devastating truth yet all utterly hilarious.

As you may recall, I attended a marathon of the show back in May along with Steve on Broadway his partner Doug. Turned out to be one of the greatest theatrical experiences I have ever had (and you couldn’t ask for better company). Exhilarating, cathartic, alive – it’s everything you would want out of the live theatre experience and then some.

They say you can see any one of the three plays in any particular order (or two, or just one). I gotta tell you: it’s worth it to see all three, especially in the marathon setting. The way I look at it, it’s not so much three plays as one giant play separated into three acts. And for what it’s worth, I would have loved to have sat through a whole other play. The only melancholy I personally felt that day was that it had to end. The characters and the actors playing them are vibrant, fascinating and everything, especially Matthew Warchus’ staging, is just brilliant (and his Tony should have been for this).

If you haven’t had the privilege of seeing The Norman Conquests, I implore you to do so. There are many discounts available, but believe you me, if there weren’t this one would be worth full price. And for those of you have already had the privilege and understand why I have to go back one last time, I hope to see you at the final marathon.

Thinking About "Carnival"


Earlier in the week it was announced that Leslie Caron would be joining Kristin Scott Thomas in the upcoming Paris production of A Little Night Music. If this is at all indicative of my thought processes, I was describing Caron’s career to a friend who had never heard of her and it had me thinking about the musical Carnival.

Caron’s film career got off to an auspicious start as Gene Kelly’s love interest in the 1951 Oscar winning Best Picture, An American in Paris (which has had a musical version in the works for years). She also starred in another Best Picture winner Gigi (later adapted for Broadway), the film version of the musical Fanny (which dropped the songs and adapted Harold Rome’s music for underscoring) and also a little gem of a film called Lili.

Lili, which premiered in 1953, was a hit for MGM garnering an Oscar nomination for Caron and co-starring Mel Ferrer, Jean-Pierre Aumont, Zsa Zsa Gabor and Kurt Kaznar. Based on a short story by Paul Gallico, it’s about an incredibly naive French orphan who is pretty much adopted by a traveling circus troupe. She’s in love with a slick magician who dismisses her as a child, all the while finding herself in a tempestuous relationship with a puppeteer who is embittered because war injuries permanently halted his career as a dancer. The film won an Oscar for its musical scoring (by Bronislau Kaper) and featured a hit song “Hi Lili, Hi Lo.”

In what was then a rare occurence, Lili was adapted from the screen as a Broadway musical, retitled Carnival (according to some sources it was Carnival!) The stage musical featured an entirely original score by Bob Merrill, quite easily his greatest achievement as a composer, with a book by Michael Stewart. (In lieu of using the hit film song, Merrill wrote an original song, the haunting “Love Makes the World Go Round” to take its place). Gower Champion made his Broadway directing debut under the guidance of producer David Merrick. Anna Maria Alberghetti in her only Broadway appearance played Lili, Jerry Orbach made his Main Stem bow as the puppeteer. Kaye Ballard took on the Zsa Zsa Gabor role.

The show opened at the Imperial Theatre on April 13, 1961 to rave reviews, winning a Tony for Alberghetti (in a tie with Diahann Carroll in No Strings) and its scenic design. It lost out on the big prize to the Pulitzer Prize winning satire How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying. An original London production opened in 1963 and failed after 34 performances. But aside from regional productions and a popular Encores! mounting starring Anne Hathaway and Brian Stokes Mitchell in 2002, the musical has not seen a major revival on Broadway or in London, though there was talk of an Encores! transfer (as is usually the case when one of their mountings is considered an artistic success).

The original production had its share of backstage lore. The most famous was the all out feud between Merrick and Alberghetti. One time when she called out for illness, Merrick believed her to be faking it and sent her a dozen dead (or depending on the source, plastic) roses and demanded she take a lie detector test. She hung his picture over the toilet in her bathroom. Merrick later claimed one his greatest achievements was “Making sure that Anna Maria Alberghetti never worked on Broadway again.”

Also, Alberghetti was apparently the first actress in a Broadway musical to use a body mike during a performance. During one performance, the actress exited on cue and had two minutes until she reappeared, bee-lining for the ladies room. However, this particular time the actress forgot to turn off her microphone, so during the middle of the show the audience heard the sound of streaming water followed by an unceremonious flush (which in itself was followed by Algerghetti’s re-entry). The audience was beside itself with laughter, but that’s the beauty of live theatre…

In spite of all this, Alberghetti was the toast of Broadway. Susan Watson, Anita Gillette and Carla Alberghetti (you guessed it, her sister) all played Lili during the Broadway run while Ed Ames replaced Jerry Orbach. Another amusing anecdote, this time from Ms. Gillette, was relayed in the dishy Making it on Broadway. When she took over the role of Lili, she was asked if she wanted her name put above the title. She said yes (I mean, who wouldn’t?). A few weeks later she received a bill from the company manager for the cost of the sign. It wasn’t in her contract. She took it to Equity and lost.

I think it’s high time someone revived the show on Broadway, it has such a beautiful score that deserves to be better known than it is. But until we reach that day, here she is, the Tony-winning original assisted by the company performing the spirited “Yes My Heart” followed by Jerry Orbach’s devastating ballad “Her Face” from an appearance on Ed Sullivan:

Katharine Hepburn: Stage to Screen

The New York Public Library is currently offering an exhibition of all Katharine Hepburn’s papers from her extensive theatrical career. “Katharine Hepburn: In Her Own Files” compiles letters, notebooks, sketches, scrapbooks, telegrams, etc. (All of her film related documents have been donated by her estate to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ Margaret Hedrick Library in Los Angeles). The exhibit is on display at the Performing Arts Library, situated in Lincoln Center until October 10, 2009 at the Vincent Astor Gallery.

Throughout her career, Hepburn found herself making the film versions of various plays (the Academy responded: out of 12 nominations, 8 were for play adaptations; 3 of her 4 wins were stage-to-screen translations). Two films (The Philadelphia Story & Without Love) found Hepburn recreating roles she originated on Broadway. In honor of the festivities surrounding her display, there will be free screenings of some of these classics every Saturday at 2:30PM the Bruno Walter Auditorium.

For more information on the exhibit and screenings, visit their website. Here’s the summer film line-up:

July 11
The Philadelphia Story – b&w, 112 minutes
Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn (Oscar nom), James Stewart (Oscar win)
Directed by George Cukor, 1940. Based on a play by Philip Barry.

July 18
Morning Glory – b&w, 75 minutes
Katharine Hepburn (Oscar win), Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Adolphe Menjou
Directed by Lowell Sherman, 1933. Based on a play by Zoë Akins.

July 25
Holiday – b&w, 96 minutes
Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, Doris Nolan, Lew Ayres
Directed by George Cukor, 1938. Based on a play by Philip Barry.

Aug. 1
State of the Union – color, 122 minutes
Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn, Van Johnson, Angela Lansbury
Directed by Frank Capra, 1948. Based on a play by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse.

Aug. 8
Summertime – color, 98 minutes
Katharine Hepburn (Oscar nom), Rossano Brazzi, Isa Miranda, Darren McGavin
Directed by David Lean, 1955. Based on a play by Arthur Laurents.

Aug. 15
Suddenly, Last Summer – b&w, 115 minutes
Elizabeth Taylor (Oscar nom), Katharine Hepburn (Oscar nom), Montgomery Clift
Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1959. Based on a play by Tennessee Williams.

Aug. 22
The Trojan Women – color, 105 minutes
Katharine Hepburn, Vanessa Redgrave, Genevieve Bujold, Irene Papas
Directed by Michael Cacoyannis, 1971. Based on a play by Euripides.

Aug. 29
A Delicate Balance – color, 132 minutes
Katharine Hepburn, Paul Scofield, Lee Remick, Kate Reid, Joseph Cotten
Directed by Michael Tony Richardson, 1973. Based on a play by Edward Albee.

The Mystery of Patricia Neway

Calling all sleuths! We’ve got ourselves a musical theatre mystery here.

I was talking to my friend Chris, who is working at Glimmerglass Opera this summer, about The Consul by Gian-Carlo Menotti (who was born on this day in 1911, I might add). Glimmerglass, located in Cooperstown, NY, is presenting the opera this summer in repertory with more traditional fare such as La Traviata, La Cenerentola and Dido and Aeneas.

The Consul fascinates me because it one of the few operas that was composed specifically for Broadway. The original production opened at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre on March 15, 1950 running for 269 performances (don’t let the tally fool you, the show was actually a financial success) before it became a staple of opera companies worldwide. The opera showcased young soprano Patricia Neway in the leading role of the oppressed everywoman Magda Sorel and established her as a force to be reckoned with in the opera and theatre world. Neway would also recreate her role in the original London and Paris productions and in a European tour.

Neway was born in Brooklyn, NY on September 20, 1919. She studied voice at the Mannes College of Music (now part of the New School) and with private coaches, making her debut on Broadway in 1942 in the chorus of Offenbach’s La Vie Parisienne. Neway’s voice, strong acting ability and striking figure onstage (she stood six feet tall) combined to create a popular presence in the world of opera and musical theatre.

Here is what I had to say about the The Consul on July 21, 2008:

‘The three-act opera follows the tragic story (it’s an opera about the horrors of dictatorship, this cannot possibly end well) of Magda Sorel, a young wife and mother in a deliberately unnamed totalitarian nation whose husband is a rebel wanted by the secret police. After he is wounded, her husband makes a run to the border to hide while Magda is left to make arrangements to transport the family out of the country safely. Magda’s troubles multiply as her mother-in-law and child become seriously ill and she finds herself constantly followed and interrogated by the secret police. Much to her growing frustration finds that the bureaucracy at the consulate is unstoppable, leaving herself and many others stranded vis-a-vis the monikers of red tape and paperwork. When her child dies, she makes another imploring visit to the consulate and when rejected once again by the callous secretary, her emotions and anger explode in this second show-stopping aria “To This We’ve Come,” a release of a leitmotif heard in the recitative between Magda and her husband early in the first act, with one of the few moments of musical assonance experienced in the score.’

The opera won the Pulitzer Prize for Music and the NY Drama Critics Award as Best Musical. Decca recorded an original cast album of musical highlights that has yet to be released on CD. Menotti and Neway would work again in the short-lived Maria Golovin in 1958 at the Broadway Theatre. The following year, Neway would score great success on Broadway opposite Mary Martin as the original Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music, winning the 1960 Tony for Best Featured Actress. (I’ve always been amused that the actress playing Maria was six years older than the actress portraying the Reverend Mother).

That same year, she starred in a revival of The Consul at the City Center. Her performance was taped for an early attempt at pay-per-view television. That taping, considered lost, was discovered in a vault somewhere and released on DVD by VAI and it is an extraordinary document featuring a performance of a lifetime.

The Sound of Music marked Neway’s last appearance on Broadway, but she continued her association with Rodgers and Hammerstein by appearing in the 1964 Lincoln Center revival of The King and I as Lady Thiang as well as a 1966 City Center revival and unrelated 1967 TV production of Carousel as Nettie. Neway sang in numerous productions at the NYCO, including the debut of Six Characters in Search of an Author, sharing the stage with the late, great Beverly Sills.

While talking about the excitement and going on up at Glimmerglass, Chris sent me a youtube link of Patricia’s performance of “To This We’ve Come” this evening. In the title it says “Patricia Neway (aka Frances Breeze) in The Consul.” At first I didn’t know what to make of it, until I decided to google the two names together. What came up in the search was a link to the youtube clip I had just seen as well as one for her Biography page on IMDb. There was this blurb:

“After The Sound of Music, Patricia Neway settled down in Hampton, Virginia and taught voice under her married name “Frances Breeze” until The College of William and Mary recruited her as the head of their singing department. Her last performance was as the mother in Gian Carlo Menotti’s “Amahl and the Night Visitors” in 1974, although she taught voice and directed choir until her death in 2003.”

I’m forced to take this information with some reticence. There is no date of death listed on her IMDb, IBDb or Wikipedia pages. In searching through various databases and periodicals I’ve not been able to locate any sort of obituary for her under either name. I know she was married to opera singer and voice teacher Morris Gesell around the time of The Consul, but the NY Times lists nothing in its archives about her past 1966. If Neway has passed away six years ago, it does seem strange that not one single news source picked up on it.

As for Frances Breeze of William and Mary College, it appears she was a highly respected voice teacher, beloved by her students and dedicated to teaching the art of vocal technique as well as instilling her students confidence and determination. She retired from the school for health reasons in 1983, and moved to St. Croix. Breeze returned to the Virginia peninsula where she died in 2003. In her memory, the Alumni Association established an endowment in her memory providing scholarships to vocal students.

However I have been unable to make a connection between the two names aside from the information I’ve gathered on Youtube and IMDb. Plus, Patricia Neway’s signature is present on the 2009 Broadway Bear of the Mother Abbess (decked out in the striking black and red formal habit Lucinda Ballard designed for the original production). I’m not sure that they would keep a bear for six whole years before they placed it on auction, but I am not familiar with how this branch of BC/EFA functions.

The facts are few and far between and I feel there is more to the story than what I’ve found. I’m going to do further research to find concrete evidence to determine whether or not Frances Breeze and Patricia Neway are one and the same. Unless perhaps any of my regular readers might be able to help?

So until I get to the bottom of this enigma, here is the aforementioned clip of Patricia Neway singing “To This We’ve Come”

"Stars of the Future"


“Talented ladies the pros think will make it on Broadway”

While browsing through my Playbill for the musical The Girl Who Came to Supper (which ran for 112 performances at the Broadway Theatre from December 8, 1963 to March 14, 1964), I came across this particular feature in which producers picked the actresses they felt were most destined for stardom. This seems like the type of feature that I would prefer to see today, rather than the phony restaurant recommendations.

Let’s see if their predictions were correct…

David Merrick:

“If the axiom that stars are born, not made, is true, it is equally true that opportunity and luck are an important part of the picture. There’s a 17 year old named Lesley Ann Warren in 110 in the Shade, and if the reactions of the audiences and my associates mean anything, she is headed for stardom. Lesley has the radiance and the special magic about her that, combined with her talent for singing, dancing and acting, insure her a happy future in the theatre. When she first auditioned for me, without benefit of previous stage experience, I knew she would not disappoint me. I was right.”

Frederick Brisson:

“Next year’s star? I nominate Carolan Daniels, an almost terrifyingly gifted emigree from California who is playing a half-dozen different characters in the fascinating off-Broadway charade called Telemachus Clay. She has incredible grace, delicacy and charm. Young Miss Daniels looks like a Eurasian pixie, which should be no drawback in a business always seeking the new, interesting, off-beat and beautiful in looks and talent. All of these adjectives apply to Carolan. But there is no adjective adequate to describe the personal poetry with which she infuses every line she reads and every character she portrays. It is the stuff that stars are made on, and the stuff that makes stuff. I believe it will make Carolan Daniels.”

Theodore Mann:

“I look at an actor’s movements and the excitement generated by his performance, when I judge a potential “star.” It becomes a matter of personal involvement, what does the actor do to me? Is there variety within their acting ability? And the most essential element… the actor’s level of communication with his audience.
With the aforementioned in mind, I submit Miss Cicely Tyson as a potential star. Cicely is unusually attractive, even exciting looking, and moves beautifully. Her performances have generated a great deal of empathy every time I’ve seen her on stage. She needs only the opportunity to work to further develop her craft to become a complete star, in the true sense of the term.
I firmly believe she will be one of the first in a new wave of Negro stars to emerge within the American theatre. The “Negro problem,” robbing America of many fine artists, has consumed us for too long a time, and I truly feel that the climate is such that complete acceptance by all Americans of the outstanding actor, regardless of race, is now within us, insuring Miss Tyson of an honest appraisal, a just critique and an assured acceptance.”

Saint Subber:

“Next year’s star may very well be a bit of this year’s sunshine, named Penny Fuller. She has beauty, she has intelligence, she has great warmth and charm, she has a kind of self-generated incandescence that is simply too big and bright to be confined. Soon, I suspect, it will illuminate entire theatres, marquees included. This little dynamo is currently whirring away pretty much unseen as Elizabeth Ashley’s understudy in Barefoot in the Park. But one of these days she is bound to have a good part of her own. Then watch her glow, glow, glow!”

"Much Ado About Nothing" @ HVSF

“Speak low if you speak love.”

Whenever I think about William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, I think of this particular line, mostly because of an encounter I had with a college professor. I was taking a Shakespeare class with a 30 year tenured professor who wore pomposity like a glove and he assigned this as our second play after The Comedy of Errors. His idea of teaching was to read through the text – himself (he probably wanted to be a performer) and discuss the great meaning of each passage, occasionally shooting out questions among the students arbitrarily.

He said this passage and stopped and said, “You know, there is a really beautiful song by George Gershwin written that is based on this one line.” Yours truly knew that to be inaccurate and piped up with complete innocence “Actually, I think it was Kurt Weill.”

“Kurt Weill, you say? Really? My goodness. I’m amazed you know this song. You’re the first student I’ve ever had who ever did. SING IT!”

That little exchange, for whatever reason, made me a favorite of the teacher and I actually subjected myself to a second semester of Shakespeare with him. The song of course is the enchanting “Speak Low” by Weill & Ogden Nash from their 1943 musical One Touch of Venus.

But aside from all that, Much Ado About Nothing is my favorite Shakespeare comedy. Plot machinations aside, it offers two of Shakespeare’s wittiest creations, Beatrice and Benedick. Their repartee is often the high point of the entire evening, and my first exposure was through the 1993 film adaptation with Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson going to town on this delicious dialogue.

A few weeks ago, I blogged about the chance to sit in on a rehearsal with the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival. During those three hours, I got a chance to see the actors and HVSF Artistic Director Terry O’Brien work on scenes from Pericles and Complete Works (Abridged). Last Saturday night I had the unexpected pleasure to be on hand for the opening night performance of their Much Ado on the grounds of the historic Boscobel near Cold Spring, NY.

Words do not do the Boscobel experience justice. The grounds open at 6PM, allowing patrons the chance to picnic on the lawn with a picturesque view of the Hudson River, overlooking Constitution Island, West Point and several miles of the river itself. It’s an absolute stunner. I brought my friend Dana up with me and we relaxed on lawn with other patrons, the first clear dry evening in recent memory.

At about 7:30, we are requested to clear the lawn and make our way to the tent for performance. It becomes quite clear as the lawn upon which we were sitting becomes part of the performance space, with the classic scenic design of the Man Upstairs. The tent is set-up in a modified thrust space, with a patch of dirt for the stage. The backdrop is that of the Hudson River, surrounding mountains set against the backdrop of a clear sunset.

After an amusing opening requesting monetary support (presented tongue-in-cheek as a lost 2-page play from Shakespeare’s visit to the region with Henry Hudson in 1609), the play began. Things got off to a thrilling start as Don Pedro and his men (and woman, more on that in a bit) made an entrance over the crest of the hill, walking across the lawn to the stage accompanied by pipe and drum. The audience went wild with applause when they were halfway to the stage, and only ceasing once the actors hit their marks under the tent. One of the most electrifying uses of space I have ever seen in all my years of theatregoing.

The company is uniformly excellent. Katie Hartke makes a gamine Hero, with (real-life husband) Ryan Quinn as her impassioned Claudio. The characters generally feel rather maudlin and truth be told, boring compared to the other couple, especially since the others get the best lines. However, these two actors brought enough substance to make them feel more dimensionalized and sensual than usual.

Jason O’Connell as Benedick and Nance Williamson as Beatrice trade those quips and zingers with aplomb. One of the more amusing aspects of the play are the parallel contrivances to bring both couples together; think Hero and Claudio as Sarah Brown and Sky Masterson, with Beatrice and Benedick as Miss Adelaide and Nathan Detroit. It’s a rudimentary comparison, but Much Ado About Nothing feels like a Golden Age musical with its serious legit couple and a secondary comic couple. Like Guys and Dolls, Much Ado’s two couples both function in leading capacities. O’Connell embodies Benedick with a physicality and bravado that makes me long for the opportunity to see his Falstaff. Williamson, looking uncannily like Diane Keaton on Oscar night, makes a formidable counterpart, with delicious line delivery and an elegant stage presence.

Michael Borrelli is an audience favorite as the inept, malaprop prone Dogberry, with Prentiss Standridge his comic sidekick (both giving the characters a redneck spin). Wesley Mann is formidable as Leonato. It is an utter thrill to watch Gabra Zackman onstage; here playing Margaret, who becomes a pawn in the plot to destroy Hero and Claudio’s impending nuptials.

Director John Christian Plummer has cast actress Maia Guest in the role of the villain Don John, here Dona Johana. Usually such stunt casting is circumspect, but here it works to the play’s benefit. Guest finds unexpected layers to what is nothing more than a glorified stock villain, with a feminist angle (and dare I say romantic jealousy angle as well?) Suddenly the conflict of the plot is inherently more interesting and works better than I’ve seen it before.

I’ve already credited the Lord with the scenic design, but I wanted to throw a shout out to Dan Scully for his subtle lighting design, that complements the action onstage as well as the action across the lawn. Melissa Schlactmeyer’s inventive costume design offers the production a unique look; the ladies look like they’ve stepped out of Desperately Seeking Susan with a grey and black 80s punk look. The men are a bit more traditional in their get up (and they wear the corsets this time).

As Dana and I were leaving the grounds, we remarked to one another how this particular setting and staging really enhance the story, in its complete pastoralism (and green) staging. She also said something that really hit the nail on the head about the experience. She had read the play and watched the 1993 film, which made her really interested in going with me, but admitted that this production helped her fully comprehended what was happening plotwise.

The other plus? The house is really a proper theatre disguised by a tent. So rain or shine, the show will go on. And be sure to bring a picnic (and wine) and you’re guaranteed a classy time.

Happy Fourth of July

From that classic musical about this very day… 1776.

William Daniels as John Adams…”Is Anybody There?”

And for good luck, here’s Joel Grey and the original cast of “George M!”