By Paul Horsley

Live music was an essential part of period performances of Shakespeare’s plays, but not until this year has it become central to the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival’s free annual performances in Southmoreland Park. Their presentation of the rare The Winter’s Tale, which runs through July the 6th, incorporates three live musicians playing savvily integrated incidental music between and sometimes during the stage action, as well as a multitalented singer-juggler-mandolinist (Matthew Rapport as the vagabond peddler Autolycus), who brings the weirdly comic section (the original Act IV) vibrantly to life with songs using texts drawn from the bard. Rather than make the obvious choice of injecting fine but random Elizabethan music (of which, to be sure, there is plenty), composer and music director Greg Mackender and two excellent soloists (violinist Laurel Morgan and cellist Sascha Groschang) perform a subtle blend of quasi-improvisatory minimalism with tinges of Renaissance and New Age. In a curtained but prominent “box” placed in the stage-left wing of resident designer Gene Emerson Friedman’s handsome set, Greg plays a number of instruments, some synthesized, into which Laurel and Sascha weave an intricate counterpoint. (The purpose of the curtains we learn only at the end, when they are closed and reopened to reveal one of Shakespeare’s wittiest coups-de-théâtre.)

None of this is to diminish the extraordinary acting in this unjustly neglected tragicomedy, which often strikes one as every bit as good as some of the bard’s better-known works. (Its neglect derives partly, some say, from its bizarre mixture of genres—but then, how many Shakespearean plays really shy from mixing tragedy and comedy?) The lead role of the Sicilian King Leontes, played with studied, focused intensity by the great Bruce Roach (above) is part Othello in his jealous rage, part Richard III in his quick-fire insanity, part Lear in his pathetic misreading of others—and perhaps with a little John Malkovich thrown in. John Rensenhouse is his childhood friend, Polixenes (King of the imaginary “Bohemia”), who is persuaded to extend his visit by Leontes’ faithful and quite pregnant Queen Hermione (Cinnamon Schultz). Leontes grows abruptly invidious, convinced that Hermione’s persuasiveness grows from a passionate attachment to Polixenes, and that the babe in her womb must be his. Turning half-mad, he rejects his friend (who had earlier reminisced of the days when they were “as twinn’d lambs that did frisk i’th’ sun,” a sly foreshadowing, perhaps, of the newborn’s unexpected upbringing).

When the child is born she is banished to the shores of Bohemia, accompanied by the faithful Antigonus (Robert Gibby Brand), with the notion that if the infant survives the elements maybe the king will take her back. Leontes is stricken further with grief by the death of his son, Mamillius (played with remarkable poise by young Marek Burns); eventually Hermione herself succumbs. But in Bohemia all is joy: The infant daughter is rescued by a happy shepherd (Scott Cordes) and his clownish son (Andy Perkins), who raise a girl they call Perdita (the ever-vivacious Emily Peterson). Suddenly she is 16 and being wooed by Florizel (Daniel Fredrick), King Polixenes’ only son—who, like the “bucolics,” is utterly unaware of the girl’s royal lineage. (He does, however, notice there’s something special about her.) Excellent performances are also found in the roles of Leontes’ friend, Camillo (Mark Robbins, obsequious but with tiny facial expressions that at times betray a certain subversive quality) and Paulina, played with such convincing verve by Jan Rogge that she nearly steals every scene she’s in.

Under the confident direction of festival artistic director Sidonie Garrett, who has broken the five-act play into two segments, the “serious” aspects of the play ring true and natural even if the comedy feels willfully silly. The costume designs by Mary Traylor are eclectic, with stately and richly turned-out royal garb for the opening acts (heavy blacks with red and gold trim, suggesting perhaps a later historical period) and a dizzying array of magical, playful buffoonery for Act IV. (Yes, Shakespeare calls for a guy in a bear costume, Taylor St. John in this case, and yes there are sheep-on-sticks for the shepherds.)

In the end the strangeness of the fairy-dust “apotheosis” puts this play in a category by itself, and some viewers find that it’s neither this nor that. But for its delicious, brain-stimulating poetry—especially that about friendship, love and family—it’s a piece of theater I would love to see many more times.

The Winter’s Tale runs through July 6th, with no performance on July 4th. For information on remaining performances, including reservations for up-front seats, call 816-531-7728 or go to kcshakes.org.

To reach Paul Horsley, performing arts editor, email phorsley@sbcglobal.net or find him on Facebook (paul.horsley.501) or Twitter (@phorsleycritic). In addition to his reviews here at kcindependent.com, read his columns in each print edition of The Independent. To subscribe, call 816-471-2800.

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