Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival
By Ross Rice

It’s an otherwise beautiful July afternoon, with a welcome break from the heat and humidity, heading south on the ThruwayI toward Newbur gh. Ther e is, however, an ominous corner of sky brewing, but it’s far enough away not to warrant concern. We make the switch to 84 East, over the Hudson, then forgetting which Route 9 to take south to Garrison: is it 9D? 9G? The realizition that it’s actually supposed to be 9D occurs seconds after missing the exit. Fortunately, you can take the original Route 9 South, and jog over on Route 301 to Cold Spring. All 9’s will get you there, I suppose.

Wrong turns notwithstanding, it’s a pleasant drive down to Boscobel Restoration, site of the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival, now in its 21st season. An ef€cient crew guides you to parking on the grounds (literally,) from which it’s a short walk over to the box-of€ce building. Then, on through a sweetly fragrant orangery, past a ower-bedecked fountain, and out of the garden into the open € eld leading up the bluff overlooking the...

Wow. I mean, really...wow.

It’s worth the trip for this view alone. You don’t realize you’re up on the high bluff until you look southward down the Hudson. You can well understand why preservationists chose this spot to reassemble Boscobel, a mansion that was originally built in 1804, 15 miles south in nearby Garrison, for New Amsterdam Dutch descendant (and British loyalist in the Revolutionary War) Morris Dyckman. Parts of it were stored in barns for years, then eventually transported to and restored on this particular spot, re-opening in 1961. The price the building was purchased for at auction? 35 dollars.

This place has more than just a view; this is a bona € de vista. People are encouraged to bring picnics to enjoy pre-performance. Strolling groups, with and without baskets and blankets, enjoy the open space, while the lights on West Point on the opposite shore start winking on as the sun sneaks down behind the Hudson Highlands. Suddenly, a clanging bell sounds forth, and your attention is directed toward the enormous white tent about 300 feet from the bluff’s edge.

Shufing through the line for refreshments (beer, wine, sodas... also wraps, cookies, Cheetos!,) and on into the big top. The € rst thing you notice when you get to your seat is the lack of any kind of stage set. There is a sense of circus atmosphere, with well-placed tentpoles and lighting rigs, and sawdust on the stage  oor. And in the background, the enormous €eld leading up to the edge, the hills and clouds in the distance. The clouds that are suddenly looking like impending storm material. Looks like a good night for back-stabbing and power-grabbing. Onstage tonight: Richard III.

Greetings and announcements from a cast member break the ice. Patrons are politely asked to turn off cell phones (in spite of this admonition, somebody’s phone goes off several times during the performance. Why does that happen so often?) Lights down, and then off in the distance, motion. A tasteful slow groove issues from the speakers, with an electronic tribal feel. The cast appears from over the €eld’s edge, slowly making their way as a group across the €eld toward the proscenium, in time with the music. It’s an arresting image. As they enter the shelter of the tent, they fan out across the space, stop, and make almost de€ant eye contact with the audience. They then turn around, €le out, and it’s on with the show. The point is well made: attention must be paid.

As if by cue, lightning streaks the sky to the Northeast, still several miles and minutes off, but de€nitely coming in. Richard (Christopher Edwards) enters with crab-like grace and stealth, pivoting around his one-armed crutch, transmuting his apparent disability into a twisted, almost bionic power. He sets the tone with the €rst of many fourth-wall breaking asides to the audience, allowing them a look inside the Machiavellian dealings, subterfuges, and outright murders he is willing to wage on his closest con€dantes and family members. And once again, it becomes clear the reason why the theatre always comes back to the Bard: his themes and characters are universal and thus always relevant to the times. Without even trying, I can think of at least three people that have Richard-like qualities. This is by no means a comforting thought.

But it all € ts well with the statement of purpose put forth by the company: to produce the works of Shakespeare “with an economy of style that focuses its energy and resources on script, actors, and audience. We communicate the stories with energy, clarity and invention, and we distill rather than embellish the language and action. We challenge ourselves and our audiences to take a fresh look at what is essential in (these) plays.” Unquestionably, they succeed on all counts.

The Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival got off to a modest start in 1987 with a fundraiser produced by actor and recent upstate resident Melissa Stern, on behalf of Manitoga, industrial designer Russell Wright’s Garrison home. Together with director Terrence O’Brien, an ex-colleague from San Francisco’s American Conservatory Theatre, they enlisted the actors of New York-based Twenty-Ninth Str eet Project, and staged an outdoor performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Manitoga, that unfortunately was mostly attended by blustery weather, which eventually forced them inside a local high-school gymnasium for the last two shows. The performances were very well received despite the dif€ culties, and an organizing commitee was recruited from fans in attendance. The following years found them moving the festival to Boscobel, incorporating and achieving non-pro€t and Equity (Actors union) status. Nineteen years later, it’s still going strong.

O’Brien has maintained a high quality level of performances as artistic director, auditioning for cast members in New York as well as upstate. A healthy balance of seasoned professionals and promising interns and apprentices round out the uniformly excellent casts. With two shows per season, he admits to making sure one of them is one of the big ones: a Romeo & Juliet, or Macbeth, while the other is more challenging, or even obscure (this year, it’s the perennial favorite As You Like It utilizing a country/cowboy theme, directed by Kurt Rhoads.) alternating with Richard III. A 1999 version of the lesser-known Titus Andronicus comes to O’Brien’s mind as one of the more succesful endeavors of the company over the years. Although he employs occasional modern ourishes in his presentation of the material, particularly full ensemble dance sequences as momentary relief, he maintains a pleasing ambiguity of time and place, which is reinforced by the polyglot multi-cultural costume design and soundscapes, and variety of idiomatic mannerisms utilized by the cast. The result: fresh and accessible readings of the Bard’s classic work, out under the open sky.

Tonight, however, the open sky is about to open up for real. As the €rst act builds with tension, so does the storm, punctuating the dialogue with ash and rumble. During a particularly intense murder scene, the rain and thunder hit hard, offering celestial enhancement, and it’s downpour time. A cast member appears, and an impromptu intermission is called to wait out the deluge, which has made much of the dialogue inaudible. This proves to be short, and the play picks up where it left off only 5 or 10 minutes later.

What really sets these performances apart from most summer Shakespeare fare is the full use of the €eld. The famous pre-battle dream sequence near the end of Act Two utilizes it to full effect, with blazing green light illuminating cast members draped in white, moving in slow-motion. These vignettes utilize the depth of €eld, giving these scenes an almost cinematic effect. With the expertly staged blocking and timing, and extraordinary lighting design, the show moves briskly along, and the cast has a great handle on the language, keeping it easy to maintain the complex threads of the story.

The weather €nally settles down—now just a cool moist breeze blowing through the big top. The play €nishes to standing ovations from an appreciative house. All in all, the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival lives up to its considerable reputation, offering a quality experience as good as any in the City. Factor in the picnic option, and it’s a summer no-brainer. Like Mozart and Rembrandt, you just can’t go wrong with the man from Stratford-on-Avon. Plus, that view....

A barge sounds a melancholy horn as it makes the turn, heading for the City, and the ocean. A cool breeze, a last remnant of the earlier blow, shake extra raindrops out of the trees, as I €nd my place in the line of cars in search of the right Route 9 (that would be 9D,) meditating on lust, mistrust, and betrayal. Although I thoroughly enjoyed watching twisted Richard under the threatening sky, next time, I’m catching the comedy.