Fête, Part One

One assumes risk when one says, "We can do whatever you like for your birthday." Just ask J. Granted, he was spared having to shop for a gift (not absolved from a card, though), but he is now obliged to attend two performances with me: a Shakespeare troop's performance of Richard III and the Boston Symphony Orchestra's presentation of Goethe's Faust in French and in operatic form.

Last night, we attended Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival's Richard III at Boscobel. The weather cooperated nicely, though it was a bit humid at the beginning. We picnicked and roamed the manicured grounds at Boscobel before the performance. The view of the academy from Boscobel was spectacular: full-on and all encompassing. The only pity was that a humidity/smog-blanket engulfed the academy (indeed, the lower Hudson Valley in its entirety) and made it virtually impossible to discern architectural details to the fullest potential.

Picnickers in front of Boscobel

Our picnic spot View of the Hudson from Boscobel; The Academy is on the right

At 1845, we were ushered to our seats (first row!) in a massive tent erected for the purpose of sheltering the troop as they perform rain or shine. Seats were situated in a "U" shape, rising several levels in stadium fashion, overlooking a bare, earthen stage. Because of our positioning in the first row, we were so close to the stage that, on several occasions, the actors brushed against us. The actors entered the stage through a frontal opening in the tent that opened to reveal a magnificent view of the Hudson. The tent made us think of what the olfactory sensation in the Globe Theatre in London might have been: a few hundred bodies, who had picnicked in full sun hours before, sitting in close proximity, outdoors, making the air thick with a multitude of odors, some more pleasant than others.

The Tent

The troop performed the play with a great deal of integrity, closely keeping to the original dialogue. The troop did take some artistic license in that the costumes and sound had a definitive roman legion-meets gypsy band-in an ultra urban landscape feel to it (think Mad Max). The actors were clad in leather motorcycle boots; ethereal, torn clothing; stark make-up and dread locks. The artistic license enhanced the production and J was thankful he was not forced to listen to soliloquies from actors sporting Elizabethan dress. I'm not sure that the modernization sat well with the largely septuagenarian audience, but J and I found it clever. The actors gave powerful and provocative performances.

J, with the Academy behind him

C on the grounds

The play was fantastic! J, to his own surprise, enjoyed it as well. One down and one to go!