Arts & Entertainment
‘Midsummer’ magic
Cleverly staged production transports action to the 1940s
‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’
Through Dec. 30
Shakespeare Theatre Company
Sidney Harman Hall
610 F Street NW
$43-$105
202-547-1122

Christiana Clark as Helena and Amelia Pedlow as Hermia in Shakespeare Theatre Company’s production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ (Photo by Scott Suchman; courtesy of Shakespeare Theatre Company)
Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” brings together fairies, high-born Athenians and a sextet of skilled workmen with theatrical aspirations to create an improbable but magical world where even the most extreme situations end happily. In a visually exciting and extremely fun production currently playing at Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Sidney Harman Hall, director Ethan McSweeny keeps the old material fresh.
McSweeny’s take is appropriately magic-filled and newly theatrical. He sets the story in the 1940s inside an empty theater where possibilities are boundless. After all, as the program points out, Shakespeare premiered this play on a bare stage. With two balconies, a couple chandeliers, fly ropes, trap doors, Lee Savage’s beautiful set — a once grand theater — is essentially a blank slate, allowing the action to move convincingly (with the help of Tyler Micoleau’s skilled lighting) from Athens to an enchanted forest.
Cast members are equally versatile. Tim Cambell and Sara Topham appealingly play the comely ruling couple Theseus, Duke of Athens, and Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, as well as Oberon and Titania, King and Queen of the fairies. Adam Green splendidly transforms from Theseus’ oddly buttoned up assistant to literature’s mischief maker extraordinaire, Puck. Dressed in a corset and breeches, Green’s agile fairy nimbly traverses the set delighting in the mayhem he initiates without ever being too cutesy or grating. It’s a terrific performance.
“Dream” is a comic tale of young love, both requited and not. Hermia (Amelia Pedlow) cannot bear Demetrius (Chris Myers), the preppy boy her father insists she must marry. Instead she loves Lysander (Robert Beitzel), a folksy poet who is never without his acoustic guitar. Hermia’s best friend Helena (the excellent Christiana Clark), whose taste runs toward shopping and chocolates, loves Demetrius; but alas Demetrius loves Hermia. In order escape her father’s commands, Hermia and Lysander retreat to the woods.
Along the way, before all ends well, Hermia and Helena, clad only in their underthings, fall into a long, drawn out cat fight (staged wet and goopy by McSweeny). The boys (also stripped to their skivvies) get involved too. Puck watches from the sidelines perched in a theater balcony nibbling on popcorn. Invisible to the young lovers, he descends into the fray, cleverly egging on the battle. It’s a wonderfully well-rehearsed scene that comes off without a hitch.
“Dream’s” amusing subplot focuses on the rude mechanicals, a group of workers including a tinker and a tailor who are keen to perform a work of their own making (Shakespeare’s enduring slapstick-filled skit within the play) for the Duke and Queen. Led by Ted van Griethuysen as Peter Quince, the group of avid amateur thespians includes Robin Starveling (Christopher Bloch), Tom Snout (a dour Herschel Sparber), the slowwitted Snug (Robert Dorfman) and the wonderful David Graham Jones as Francis Flute who plays the mechanical’s enthusiastic ingénue. The group’s most eager member, Nick Bottom, is hilariously played by Bruce Dow as a total drama queen, more than ready for his close up.
McSweeney’s imagery is unforgettable: The show strikingly opens with the Duke (covered in medals) and his first lady (looking more than a little Evita-ish with a chic hat and carefully arranged fur piece), addressing their drab public from the palace balcony. There is the moving tableau featuring an ardent Titania and her disinterested paramour Bottom (who has been magically made into an ass) being pulled across stage by a team of young fairies as they lie in the gutted piano that serves as their bed. Then at the play’s close, there’s Puck making his apologies to the audience lit by the glow of a lone ghost light.
Jennifer Moeller provides a collection of impeccably realized costumes from the 1940s suits and gowns worn by the Athenians to Oberon and Titania’s romantic frayed remnants of court finery. And the fairies’ costumes: vintage foundation garments topped with odds and ends culled from an abandoned backstage.
With its classic storyline, inventive staging and delightful cast that handles the language and comedy more than ably, Shakespeare Theatre Company’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” makes perfect holiday fare both for Bard aficionados and the uninitiated alike.
Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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Theater
Minimal version of ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ heading to Dupont Underground
Director Nick Westrate on this traveling take on Williams’s masterwork
‘A Streetcar Named Desire’
Produced by The Streetcar Project
April 20-May 4
Dupont Underground
19 Dupont Circle, N.W.
Tickets start at $85.
Dupontunderground.org
An aggressively minimal version of Tennessee Williams’s “A Streetcar Named Desire” is poised to run at Dupont Underground (April 20-May 4), the nonprofit cultural space located in a repurposed, abandoned 1949 streetcar station beneath Dupont Circle.
The Streetcar Project’s production performs in site-specific spaces. It’s almost entirely without design elements. There is no steamy, cramped Vieux Carré apartment. You won’t see Blanche’s battered trunk exploding with cheap finery, faded love letters, and demands for back property taxes, or the familiar costumes.
Co-created by Lucy Owen (who stars as Blanche DuBois) and out director Nick Westrate in 2023, this traveling spare take on Williams’s masterwork about a fragile woman on the margins in conflict with her brutish brother-in-law seems a reaction to necessity. It’s also an exploration of whether, like Shakespeare’s “Henry V,” it can subsist on language alone.
With little distractions (even Blanche’s cultivated southern belle accent has been daringly stripped away), the spotlight shines almost solely on text. “This play holds that,” says Westrate, 42. “I remind the actors that the while there is plenty of movement, language is really the only game in town.”
New York-based Westrate, who’s best known as an esteemed actor with New York and regional credits including Prior Walter in János Szász’s production of “Angels in America” at Arena Stage, describes “Streetcar” as “the most perfect play on earth” but not one he thinks of acting in (“I’m not right for Stanley Kowalski or Mitch”) though he agreed to direct.
“These days if you’re not a not a movie star or an established director, you’re not likely to do “Streetcar.” So, for us, we have to be able to do it with almost nothing, on the New York subway if necessary. And that’s kind of how we built it.”
Westrate first experienced Dupont Underground while attending a staged reading. He was so obsessed with the space as a prospective place to take the production, he found it hard to concentrate. He says, “With its long, curved track and tunnel, Dupont Underground is a terrifying, beautiful room that carries so much metaphorical weight, so much possibility for our production.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is finding the right space for this “Streetcar” part of the thrill?
NICK WESTRATE: Whenever I enter a weird room or pass by an abandoned CVS, I try to figure out how we might do the show there, especially places that are dilapidated, architecturally odd, or possibly haunted. And each space we use, lends something to the production. The Rachel Comey store in Soho was a very Blanche coded space. And an artist’s workshop on Venice Beach in California with its huge saws and metal hooks lent raw imagery. The scenes between Blanche and Stanley near the end were absolutely terrifying.
BLADE: More recently that same bare bones production has played in more traditional spaces like the Wheeler Opera House in Aspen and San Francisco’s A.C.T. Is it hard to now go to Dupont Underground?
WESTRATE: Each time we do this we have to crack open the play again because the staging is entirely new, but we’re used to performing in unusual spaces and Dupont Underground rather takes us back to form. As a former streetcar station, it’s the most appropriate space we’ve had yet.
The cast will literally act on streetcar tracks and go without dressing rooms but they’re game, and because they have history and authorship over the work, the sacrifice is more meaningful than if they were just some hired guns.
BLADE: Audiences have an expectation, especially with a work they’re likely to know. How do they react seeing such an unadorned take on Williams’s American classic?
WESTRATE: For the first 10 or 15 minutes, they’re unsure. Then, you can pretty much see the audience members’ brains click in and their imaginations turn on. It’s like they’re scratching an itch that they didn’t even know they had.
BLADE: Did you and Lucy foresee gaining this kind of momentum behind your vision?
WESTRATE: Absolutely not. Lucy had a philosophy that we’ll just walk through open doors. Early on, we were given spaces and artists filled the seats, and increasingly we’ve begun to rent some spaces and attract more regular theatergoers.
We basically sell tickets in order to pay a living wage to artists involved. There isn’t some big institution or commercial producer who’s getting a lot of money from this. Audiences of all types seem to respond to this mode of making theater.
BLADE: In presenting “Streetcar” intermittently, usually with the same cast over three years in wildly varying venues, have you learned more about a piece that you already loved?
WESTRATE: Mostly I’ve come to realize that Blanche is the smartest character I’ve ever read in a play. She’s like Hamlet – tormented by dreams and terrified of death. She’s skilled at wordplay and always ahead of everyone else in the room. Also like Hamlet, people think she’s insane and she uses that to her advantage.
Blanche is certainly the Everest of roles for actresses and watching Lucy sort of break it apart in a different way than you’ve ever seen, and knowing that I’ve helped to facilitate this performance has been one of the great joys of my career.
