Shake It Up with the Richmond Shakers

One of the first lessons my wife and I learned after moving to Richmond from the Northeast was that summers in Virginia are not for the faint of heart. With temperatures soaring to well above 100 degrees Fahrenheit and humidity nearing the 100 percent range, most people are content to spend their time indoors, with air conditioning and ice cold drinks only a few short steps away. However, for those willing to brave the heat and venture outdoors, Richmond features a variety of summer festivals that give people the opportunity to get out and explore some new facet of the city and culture. Of particular interest to me, an English major and aspiring writer, was the chance to see Shakespeare performed live in the historic courtyard of one of Richmond’s most unique and storied venues, Agecroft Hall—a sixteenth-century Tudor mansion relocated from England to Richmond, Virginia, in the 1920’s. In other words: the perfect place to experience Shakespeare.

At six p.m. on a Saturday night in late June, the outside temperature was still pushing triple digits and my wife was combing the pages of the Richmond Shakers’ social media outlets to see if the play we were on our way to see was postponed due to extreme heat, or if the show would go on. The play, a rendition of Shakespeare’s famed comedy Much Ado About Nothing, was part of an ongoing summer series of Shakespearean plays performed by the Richmond Shakers—a local theater group (formerly known as the Richmond Shakespeare Festival) who have been putting on classic and contemporary plays at Agecroft Hall, as well as a number of local indoor venues, since 1998—and set to start in just over an hour.

While I scanned the surrounding streets in search of parking, my wife announced from the passenger seat, “I’m not seeing anything that says it’s cancelled.”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I replied, before rolling to a stop beside the tree-lined curbside, slipped from the driver’s seat, and wrestling a pair of lawn chairs from the trunk.

To give some much-needed backstory: the last time we showed up at the Hall’s wrought-iron gates for a performance of Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors it was to the discovery that the show had been cancelled due to weather—an incoming summer storm—and we, alongside a handful of other patrons of the arts, had to schlep our chairs and blankets back to our cars before heading home without the benefit of an evening’s entertainment. But tonight, despite the stifling heat, as we arrived on the pristine lawns of Agecroft Hall a few minutes before the doors opened, we were happy to find a loose congregation of people already picnicking on the swathes of grass surrounding the mansion, while just beyond the stone walls of the courtyard a food truck served Southern staples like pulled-pork sandwiches with sides of mac-and-cheese and collard greens and a number of makeshift vendors dished beer, ice cream and soft drinks out of big, blue coolers. In expectation of the coming performance, an air of casual excitement hung over the grounds and at seven o’clock—a half-hour before curtains opened—a man appeared at the entrance of the courtyard to begin the necessary process of checking people into the venue.

The second we entered the event space, we knew we were in for a special night. Set amongst the beautiful varied flora and fauna of the courtyard’s perimeter garden, a low-lying stage sat amidst rows of fold-out chairs, neatly arranged around the courtyard before continuing up and back in an array of bleacher-style seats that offered even the tiniest of playgoers a clear view of the action. For the next half hour, the courtyard continued to fill with that perfect medley of sundresses and ironed button-downs, jean shorts and flip-flops, black eyeliner and combat boots, that comprises the diverse interests and styles of Richmond, and at 7:30 sharp, after a quick announcement from Jase Sullivan, the group’s managing director, the cast members bounded onto the stage.

Even in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, the heat was stifling and it was hard for me imagine a troupe of actors in full-costume taking the stage and performing for the next two-plus hours with the spirit and vitality needed to capture the essence of Shakespeare, but from the moment the cast stepped onstage they dove head-first into their lines with such energy and enthusiasm that all thought of the heat was immediately swept away. What followed was a contemporary interpretation of the classic, combining a mastery of the Shakespearean language with a few modern elements (like cell phones and dance parties) and a bawdy physical humor that made Shakespeare not only accessible, but fun for the whole family. With minimal props—a wicker bench, a few potted plants, and a patio table and chair set—the troupe had to be creative, and at one point, in the first half of the play, even used the audience as set pieces, getting down on their hands and feet and scrambling through the aisles on all-fours in a fun-filled scene that left even the youngest and most easily-distracted of us enraptured.

Unfortunately, though, that was not to be the case for the second half of the play. By the time intermission was done and the audience restocked on drinks and snacks from the vendors, the sun had gone down, the lights had come on, and the bugs had come out; but not just a few bugs here and there, a whole swarm of them all shapes and sizes suddenly raining down from the sky with the unrelenting fury of a plague. And while most of audience managed to remain seated for the remainder of the play, fanning their faces with the playbills and otherwise swatting at the onslaught of insects, a few people—particularly those higher up on the bleachers and, therefore, closer to the light—scrambled helter-skelter from their seats in between scenes. As for the cast, they did their best to stay focused and in character, but even they could not could not ignore the influx of bugs and proceeded to swat and slap at themselves throughout much of the second half. Eventually, the storm subsided just in time for the play to reach its conclusion and the cast—having endured heat, exhaustion, and an insect invasion—received the standing ovation they were due, lining up outside the gates of the venue and bidding adieu to the departing crowd.

All in all, it was a magical evening under the stars, and while the bugs were an unwelcome surprise, the cast’s unparalleled display of energy and love for acting will surely be enough to bring me back next year for yet another round of mischief and merriment in Shakespeare’s revered comedy, A Midsummer’s Night Dream. In the meantime (and for those terrified of bugs!), they will be finishing the 2024 season inside with Nigel William’s adaption of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies—which I, for one, will be attending—from October 17 to November, 10, 2024, and kicking off the next season with a performance of Florian Zeller’s The Father: A Tragic Farce, beginning at the end of January and continuing through the first two weeks of February, 2025.

For more information regarding upcoming performance, ticket sales and memberships, please visit their website at https://richmondshakespeare.org/.

Compared to the cultural hubs of New York, Washington, D.C. and other large cities, Richmond may not have the reputation and resources to attract the biggest names in music or once-in-a-lifetime cultural exhibitions, but for a city its size there are a surprising number of opportunities to experience plays, ballets, operas and live music performances—of which the Richmond Shakers and its summer Shakespeare series is just one of many. And while it is my job to help keep you up-to-date and in-the-know on the kinds of experiences that bring you closer to Richmond and its unique community of actors, artists and musicians, in the end it’s up to you to brave the heat, step outside your comfort zone, and make the most of what this city has to offer regardless of the season.

And so, with that, I leave you with the question—to be, or not to be, part of Richmond’s unique and ever-changing community?

Written by Carl Smith