While the phrase "Shakespeare in the Park" brings to most New Yorker's minds thoughts of getting up early and waiting in line for hours to see one of the Public Theater's Delecorte productions, savvy Gothamites know that the warmer weather annually brings dozens of free outdoor Shakespeare performances to many of our public parks and community gardens that can be enjoyed by just showing up (usually with your own blanket or chair) at showtime.
And while these presentations are certainly a valuable part of NYC culture, there are always problems that crop up when actors and audience gather for theatre in a public space.
Back in my own acting days I did my share of free theatre in community gardens, and while those who ran the outdoor spaces we performed in were delighted to have us, the people whose apartment windows faced the playing area of one particular garden didn't seem especially thrilled to hear the sounds of Hamlet's soliloquy permeating into their living rooms every Saturday and Sunday afternoon. Actors soon found themselves having to compete with reverberating classic rock played on boom boxes placed on their fire escapes.
Another time, in a less hostile environment, we were in the middle of performing
A Midsummer Night's Dream when good ol' Mister Softee, seeing we had a nice crowd gathered, parked his truck a few yards away and starting playing that familiar theme song while Oberon was trying to cast his spell on Titania.
I was chatting a bit with Clara Barton Green, Artistic Director and Producer of the
Holla Holla Theatre Company (whose production of
Romeo and Juliet ends its early autumn run this weekend with 3pm and 7pm performances both Saturday and Sunday) about some of the special challenges of outdoor theatre in public spaces. Aside from common headaches like arriving at the playing space to find people sleeping on the set, nearby children loudly at play and romantic couples getting overly demonstrative with their public displays of affection, she had a few other doozies to share; like the time in Central Park when another group had a permit to throw a loud roller disco party an audible distance from their
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
"Sometimes the problem is people who don't quite get the concept," says Green. We've had joggers and bicyclists march grimly across the playing space, oblivious to the man in the jester outfit quoting verse to them, and children who wanted to play with us. We've even had the Park Enforcement Patrol drive right in up in the middle of the stage and ask to see our permit while a scene was playing!" (The actors kept going while others not in the scene scrambled to show them the paper work.)
"Last year we performed
Twelfth Night in a beautiful space in Clinton Cove Park right on the water. As gorgeous as it was, there were noise issues there as well, with the river sucking away our sound. Of course, being right on the river, there were helicopters passing above us. One actor joked that we should do
Henry V and set it during the Korean War to accommodate the choppers."
While still performing in Clinton Cove Park, this year the company moved the playing space from the sidewalk pier to the grassy field where sunbathers are now part of the backdrop.
"We've been able to cut down on distractions and can now use the walkway to draw in audiences. We had one couple last weekend that had come to Clinton Cove Park to go kayaking but they saw us performing and decided to stay for the rest of the show."
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