William Fettes Douglas, “The Alchemist” (photo: wikimedia.org)

You might think Ben Jonson doesn’t have anything to say to modern audiences, and that whatever he did have to say, he said 400 years ago. In the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey’s production of his “satiric masterwork” The Alchemist, the audience finds, as director Bonnie Monte says, “the one thing that hasn’t changed is human nature.” In a talkback after the show, a director who’d put on this rarely-produced play free outdoors in Manhattan in 2008 said it made an almost painfully apt commentary on 21st century greed in the midst of the economic crisis.

Every variation on wanting something for nothing is displayed by the Londoners who visit the den of the Alchemist and his confederates. The marks are blinded by their fantasies, their lust for gold and, while they’re at it, the favors of one particularly comely young widow. We laugh out loud at their ridiculous and sybaritic pretensions, mainly because we recognize them.

For this production, much of the language was updated so modern ears could catch the lightning-fast and witty dialog, and the whole play was cut in about half by eliminating secondary characters and scenes, for modern attention spans (and bladders). It’s still two and a half fast-moving hours. All the acting is excellent, but special mention should be made of the three principal actors Jon Barker (Face), Bruce Cromer (Subtle: the Alchemist), and Aedin Moloney (Dol Common). Brilliant. In Madison through August 31.

Learned Ladies stage set (photo: author)

Outdoor theatre has tremendous pleasures—and perils. For once, the sun wasn’t broiling last Saturday when we saw Moliere’s The Learned Ladies at The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey’s outdoor stage (the charming 1932 Greek Theatre at the College of St. Elizabeth). Probably because I had with me the new sun parasol I’d bought in Vancouver! The STNJ does classic comedies in this venue, and the poor actors are always costumed in layer upon layer, wearing wigs—particularly hilarious in this production. It makes you light-headed to look at them.

Planes routinely take off flying low overhead from the small airport is near the theatre. This year, the players responded by yelling “Maestro!”, a harpsichord would play, they’d do some bouncy minuet steps, and a page would run by with a sign reading “Flying Machine Interval” until the noise subsided. Got a laugh every time.

I was in Regent’s Park, London, at a performance of The Tempest as a real storm approached, frightening the unprepared audience members, and at a performance of Doctor Faustus at Wolf Trap, when a giant Washington summer lightning-and-thunder extravaganza broke, just as the devil appeared (nervous laughter). We lived near a tiny outdoor theatre in Arlington, Virginia, where we could push our stroller and lurk near the back if a hasty departure was needed. We saw a sweet production of Carousel there. Baby slept.

Shakespeare is a staple of summer theaters, though many do history plays, and some do musicals or religious plays. Almost 1.4 million Americans attended an outdoor performance in 2013, according to 67 reporting members of the Institute of Outdoor Theatre (hardly a complete sample).

“An evening on the turf (is) real in a way indoor performances are not. We may think we’re distracted when we notice the pair of bunnies seated next to the stage earnestly observing the bipeds, but we’re actually becoming aware of the whole environment in which theater takes place,” said Kelly Kleiman in a comment on Chicago’s theater scene. And, you can have fireworks—onstage and off!

(photo: Adam Baker, flickr, cc)