Call Me a Dog

Even during the dog days of August, a picnic at Dogwood Dell before a performance is still a pretty wonderful thing.

I let Garnett's provide the picnic (turkey, bacon and cole slaw on toasted rye bread with potato salad and chocolate mud pie) and I arrived early enough to score a front row spot for my blanket and chair.

An hour plus before the show and there were probably close to a hundred people who had already staked out their real estate.

Most were well into eating/drinking mode, all obeying the sign that warned "No dogs! No tables!"

Those who had brought bottled fun were being discreet about their pouring, but you could identify them by the higher volume of their laughter.

When it came time for dessert, I realized I'd left my utensils in the car.

Fortunately the group behind me saw my look of consternation and provided a fork.

I thanked them, explaining that if they hadn't come to my rescue, I'd have eaten the pie with my fingers.

"You shouldn't have told us about the pie," one girl warned, like she was going to snatch it out of my hands. I ate it quickly just in case.

The trio of girls next to me had forgotten a corkscrew and were puzzling over how to find one.

I pointed out a group I was pretty sure could supply one and when one of the girls went over to them, the entire group turned and looked at me.

Found out!

I went over and explained that I had noticed their cups and presumed that they might be able to help out.

They laughed, called me observant and invited me to join them for a cup of my own.

Generous picnicers were everywhere tonight.

Like all Dogwood Dell productions, this one began with Richmond mainstay Lou Dean opening the show, something he's apparently been doing for 48 years now (next up, Bill Bevins?).

He introduced Grant Mudge, artistic director of Richmond Shakespeare, who cracked wise by observing the capacity crowd and saying, "It's a shame Richmond doesn't love Shakespeare more. What a crowd!"

That crowd roared with approval at the acknowledgement.

If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it;

So began Richmond Shakespeare's first performance at the Dell in fourteen years and tonight's offering was Twelfth Night or What You Will.

As Shakespeare's romances go, it's not one that makes my heart beat faster, but the character of Malvolio in his yellow stockings with cross garters is absolutely one of my favorites.

Thomas Cunningham, whom I'd seen in several of RS's staged readings, did a great job with the beleaguered servant's role, but the cast was strong all the way around.

And how could I, a former beagle owner, not love a play that likens a woman to a beagle?

It came when the hilarious Sir Toby Belch (the always excellent Foster Solomon, whom I've seen many times over the years) declares, "She's a beagle, true bred, and one that adores me; what o' that?"

I was probably the only member of the audience thinking, "Damn, I want the right person to say that about me."

What o' that indeed?

And hopefully it would be followed by an excess of...well everything.