From TheatrePhiladelphia: Twelfth Night and the Accessibility of Outdoor Theatre in Philadelphia

By Angela Bey

“To neglect companies like Shakespeare in Clark Park, Theatre in the X, and Revolution Shakespeare is to overlook the pulse of form. The griots of West Africa, the thespians of Greece, and the kyōgens of Japan were oral, outdoor storytellers-- for the communites, by the communities. These are the true origins of theatre. Why have some of us diverged so far from this history? This dissent is much deeper than enclosed, proscenium spaces.

Free, outdoor theatre in Philadelphia helps wipe away the greasy sheen of elitism. It emphasizes accessiblity and normalizes diversity. It welcomes "non-traditional" audiences  and voices to the mainstream. It reminds us of the electric spirit of the form.”

Read more

From TheatrePhiladelphia: The Community’s King Lear

By Barbora Příhodová

“The communal aspect and the invigorating green setting is what gives this two-and-a half hour production its unique charm, casting one of Shakespeare’s late masterpieces as a treat that anyone can enjoy and, importantly, enjoy with loved ones and as part of the community. Whether intentional or not, this set-up also brings the audience closer to Shakespeare’s times, when theater was a popular, low-cost form of entertainment that took place on bare stages in full daylight, with spectators moving around freely.”

Read more

From HowlRound: A Non-Binary Awakening in Philadelphia

By Pax Ressler

“This is one of the reasons that exploring Viola’s identity as gender non-binary in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night felt rich and expansive. In the play, shipwrecked Viola disguises herself as a man—essentially, to get a job. As a woman, she doesn’t have access to social standing without working in a court, and the only position available is as a gentleman of Duke Orsino’s court. But what would happen if Viola’s decision to disguise herself wasn’t just out of necessity, but out of a genuine desire to alter her gender presentation in a new land where no one knows her? This is a question that director Jack Tamburri and I set out to explore in our glam-rock production of the play.

What we found was unconventional. We discovered that our main character chooses to be called Vi and uses the pronouns ze/zir. While the traditional comedy ends with the promise that all gender will once again default to the binary, our production challenges that notion and allows Vi to live as zir genderful self. We chose to make changes to Shakespeare’s text to allow for Vi’s autonomy, so ze can present however ze chooses.”

Read more