During the closing season of Marin Shakes at the Marin Art and Garden Center, I played Portia in a production of “Merchant of Venice” with Dick Matthews, now the rich and famous Dakin Matthews of TV fame (at least I hope he’s rich!)  It was a lovely production directed by Ann Brebner. The following summer I returned from New York, where I had gone to test my desire and luck in the theatre. Playing Olivia in Ann’s production of “12th Night” was so delightful, and the thought of returning to starving in NYC so not delightful that I stayed here forever, and no regrets. I had a heart-stopping moment near the end of that play when Viola suddenly disappeared from the stage, leaving the rest of us stunned and silent – momentarily. Somehow words came out of my mouth that got us all off stage – must have been something like, “Come, let us celebrate!” Whew. Wonderful times. Congratulations to the Curriers for continuing! 

I remember attending a performance of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” at Dominican when Marin Shakespeare first performed it there, maybe 20 years ago?! My, how time flies when you’re having fun in Marin!For me the most wondrous moment was during Act 3, Scene 1 where Titania wakes and falls in love with the enchanted Bottom, who has been turned into an ass. The full moon rose magically behind the stage as she uttered the lines:”Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,Lamenting some enforced chastity.Tie up my love’s tongue bring him silently.”Congratulations on reaching this milestone ~ may you continue to bring the Bard to all who would be merry in the wood, for as long as the play’s the thing!

Having performed at Forest Meadows for only a single season, I have fewer memories to choose among than do the actors (hello, George and Cat!) who have already shared their remembrances below.  But I nonetheless have plenty.  Particularly prominent are my memories of doing matinee performances of King Lear and Alice in Wonderland during the Great Heat Wave of 2006.  The air temperature in San Rafael reportedly topped 105 degrees, and the surface temperature of the stage was of course even hotter.  Most of the actors in King Lear were shod in slippers with very thin soles, which were fine under most circumstances, but which, because of the intense heat, proved problematic during the lengthy division-of-the-kingdom scene, a scene that required certain actors to stand still for considerable periods of time.  The specific memory I have in mind is that of perpetually shifting my feet (undetectably, I hoped) to keep them from burning, and of watching Dennis O’Brien, Albany to my Cornwall, deal with the same challenge on the other side of the skillet-like stage.  A related memory concerns the unstoppable Barry Kraft, who, before the same performance, put the rest of the cast to shame with his alacrity.  As the actor with far and away the largest role, he stood to suffer more than anyone else from the heat, but it apparently had not occurred to him (it had certainly occurred to me) that the show might not go on.  I couldn’t help but be inspired by his example.  Finally, I offer a belated thank-you to the audience members who, at a comparably infernal matinee performance of Alice in Wonderland, kindly handed the Mock Turtle a cup of water to replenish the sweat that was raining in sheets from his face and body and had managed to soak all the way through the first four layers of his costume (layer number five, an enormous turtle shell, was still largely dry).  To quote Paris Hilton, “That’s hot.”

Last summer I was sitting under the trees looking forward to sharing my chocolate mousse with not only my stomach, but  Bob Currier as well. I always bring one for Bob to enjoy and this time was no exception. My two children were by my side and they were once again thrilled to come see a play.  We watched the crowd who had bought tickets to see “Amadeus” mingle into Forest Meadows. It was so fascinating for us  to see the variety of people that walked into the amphitheatre. There were all ages including a swaddled baby who was one week young (my daughter Rosie asked her age), we saw a friend who is a Holocaust survivor arrive who is 86 years young. There were all shapes, all sizes, many different types of people all entering to enjoy the show. All except one person had on an anticipatory smile. I had seen “Amadeus” many times last summer and I was looking forward to another enjoyable chocolate fueled afternoon of theatre and snuggling with kids. Suddenly a bluebird came over and I threw it some crumbs it moved in a way that seemed to say thank you.  William Ellsman as an old Salieri walked out on stage to start the show and tears just began to stream out of my eyes. I was overwhelmed with the beauty of these moments. This day was perfect. I was enjoying a  splendid day once again that all the people at Marin Shakespeare had created. A moussey chocolate, Jim Dunn directed “Amadeus,” blue bird feeding, overhead tree filled, healthy children around my arms watching theatre moment that I will never forget.

I began attending Marin Shakespeare productions at Dominican College’s Forest Meadows Amphitheatre in the summer of 1972 shortly after I moved to southern Marin from San Francisco.  During the subsequent 37 years I have attended many memorable productions, first at productions by John and Ann Brebner and for the past 20 years some fabulous theater presented by Lesley and Bob Currier.

However, my most special memory of the Marin Shakespeare Company took place in Redding, California on my birthday in October 2005.  On that occasion we were returning from a glorious weekend of theater-going in Ashland with a bus full of Marin Shakespeare patrons.  We had seen an excellent production of “Richard III” a few evenings previously during which this villain planned to drown an enemy in a vat of Malmsey Madeira!

By a strange coincidence, I was buying some local Oregon Pinot Noir wine at the Chateaulin Wine and Gourmet Foods shop very near the theater complex the next day when I happened across a bottle of this very same Madeira which I quickly purchased as my birthday, October 31st (Halloween), was the next day as well as the departure date for our return to Marin.

With Lesley’s kind assistance, I secured a few dozen small paper cups which we gave to every bus passenger as they alighted near the Santiago Calatrava Sundial Bridge and three dozen of my fellow Shakespeare fans gathered around to drink to my health…which has remained amazingly good in the subsequent 3 1/2 years!  I like to credit the Bard for my good fortune!

In the summer of 1992, I was offered one of the first AEA contracts to play both of the Dromios in Bob’s production of “Comedy of Errors.”  It was one of the most chock-filled summers of fun — I ran my ass off every night for two hours straight!  Bob came up with an idea for the beginning of the second half for Dromio of Syracuse to accidentally discover some snake-charmer objects and then do an impromptu magic show.  Lotta fun!  I also remember a few performances when I had pulled a muscle in my back and the entire cast and crew avoided me like the plague backstage because I stank of Ben Gay!!  My favorite part was that we came up with the idea to create fake biographies in the program for the alter egos for Paul Sulzman and I, thereby not giving away the fact that the same actors were doubling in playing the twins.  Paul played both of the Antipholus(es). The main reviewer didn’t get the joke and actually reviewed the imaginary actors.  Mine was named “Duke Menaphon” (an archaic reference from the text…) and I was tickled that Duke was given an outstanding review.  The following week, someone wrote to the reviewer explaining that “Duke” and “Ken Sonkin” were one and the same person and he printed a correction to his review, complimenting all of us all for the charade.  We had a great laugh over that…

Almost 20 years later, I’m still dear friends with a number of the actors and designers from that magical production in Forest Meadows, especially the stage manager Stacy Ardelean, Scott Phillips, and Paul Sulzman.  Great friends, great theater, great memories.  Bona Fortuna, MSC!!

After 19 years on the Marin Shakespeare Company board of directors I have many memories, but none stands out like my first meeting with Robert and Lesley Currier. It was in the Fall of 1989 at the home of John and Barbara Brebner. Through the years I had attended many meetings with people who wanted to revive Shakespeare under the stars in Marin. Bob and Lesley were different. They had a vision that excited me, and I knew they would succeed, and I knew I wanted to work with them. I have enjoyed every moment of it and been proud to be a part of it.

I remember during “Cyrano” when there was a fire raging in the hills of San Rafael and there was a strong smell of smoke in the air. I came out onstage as Roxanne to play a romantic scene with Christian and as I made small talk I looked out at the audience and said my line which was, “The air is so fragrant.”  They burst into laughter and we all had one of those moments of being in the play and out of the play at the same time.

I also remember during “Shrew,” a scorching hot matinee, we were between shows and Jonathan Gonzalez wandered out to the the parking lot, dazed by the heat, in full costume looking like a bandit with ammo strapped across his chest. Next thing we knew, he was on his knees surrounded by cops who told us all to stay back. Lesley saved the day and talked sense into the police officers so we could go on with the evening show!

Jack Powell with bunny ears being quite, quite serious.

Grant Goodman as Hal looking at me as Doll in Henry IV 2, (lipstick all over, ripped fishnets, pink corset) saying “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

Dancing a tango with Brian Trybom in Much Ado & laughing ourselves almost off the stage…every show.

This happened about a dozen years ago.  I had never been around actors very much, and as a social scientist, I was fascinated by the close-up view I got as a member of the Board.  There’s a whole set of traditions, superstitions and attitudes that surround their performances, I observed. One of these puzzled me about twenty minutes before opening night of “Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

The young wood nymphs were testing their swings, suspended from a cable between two Forest Meadow’s tall and sturdy trees.  They were in a dither, I noticed, and were passing it along to most other performers.  “The swings don’t feel right, and aren’t safe,” they worried.  “We can’t use them tonight.”

A burly stage hand, calmly and rapidly climbed one of the trees, and went hand-over hand along the cable to adjust the safety bolts on the swings.  Returning to earth, he told the young ladies, “You can use them now, they are okay.”  They tested the swings, gliding above the audience, satisfied they were safe.

During intermission I asked the stage hand what he did to fix the swings.  “Nothing,” he said, “I just had to calm the ladies down before their performance, and the rest of the actors, too.  They need to get their adrenalin flowing so they can be up for their performances.  It happens, one way or the other, all the time.”

I gained new respect that moment for the intensity that our actors bring to performances, and the ultimate control over their own emotions they command so they are able to project the characters and emotions of the roles they play.  Respect that, as I do, in every performance you see.  And appreciate the skills and talents you see on the stage.  It’s all part of the magic.