Give Us Your Hands If We Be Friends…

Final bows to sold out crowds

Audiences leapt to their feet night after night throughout this past closing weekend of A Midsummer Night’s Dream: the Musical.  It was just the kind of reception that the company had been hoping for from their very first rehearsals – and one that was often repeated throughout the run of the show.  Apparently, there was much magic in the music, and many of those who entered the theater new to Shakespeare left wondering what took everyone so long to infuse it with catchy tunes.

“It really makes it so accessible,” one theater-goer said, grinning from ear to ear as she left the theater humming “So Happy Together.”  Another patron noted that he had been to the show three times.  “I never saw the same play twice,” he said, referring to the energy and acrobatics of the actors and the music.  “It was different each time.”  Another audience member was regretful that she waited until closing to see the show because it was something she would have liked to share with others and to see again.  “Oh, well,” she said.  “I’m sad it’s over.”

She’s not the only one.  After months of time spent in these characters, it takes a minute sometimes for the actors to step away – not only from the show, but from each other.  “I’ll miss everyone,” says Sandy Campbell with a bittersweet smile, as the actors gathered in the lobby to greet family and friends after the final performance.  “This show has really grown and we’ve grown together.”

Savvy Scopelleti agrees.  “It’s really blossomed,” she says.

Eddie Yaroch weighs in.  “The best stage entrance in any play I’ve ever done,” he says, referencing his cruising “Life Could Be a Dream” basketed bicycle ride.

Taylor Peckham admits that he now considers himself a Shakespeare veteran.  Remarkably, this stint as Puck (as well as being the musical director of the entire show), was Taylor’s first experience performing the Bard.  “And I’m not the only one,” he says, puckishly, looking across the lobby at David McBean, Sandy Campbell, and Lauren King.

Tom Stephenson ponders the nomadic nature of theatre as he glances around the bustling lobby.  “It’s always like this,” he says.  “You develop camaraderie for such a short, intense time.  Then you may not see someone for three years, until you do another show together.  But, we’ll always have this – this show will always connect us.”

It is certainly hard to let go of something that has been such an investment of time, talent, and energy.  But it has to happen.  And in the theatre world, it happens quickly.  The company is already looking forward to beginning rehearsals for the next production, Hamlet, which opens in January.  And no, Hamlet will not be a musical, even though the question has been posed by at least one audience member at almost every performance.

But there is one more step to complete before this next journey can begin.

Silently observing the festivities in the lobby, electric drill in hand, Michael McKeon, set designer, waits patiently for his cue.  “Strike,” as it’s known in the theatre world, is usually a group effort, taking place immediately after the last show, when everyone comes together to dismantle the set.  Already some actors have changed into sweats and sneakers to help with the impending task.  There is no room for sentimentality about holding onto things in this place.  Once the last bow is taken, it is time to move on.

Spotting Sean Cox, co-artistic director of the company, Michael calls out over the crowd, “Is it time?”

A few hours later – sets broken, curtains packed, rope swings untied – it’s as if nothing has happened here.  The stage is once again bare, awaiting its next adventure.  — T.T.

The Clayton E. Liggett Theatre at dusk