Back on the Boards - The Return of Shakespeare

It’s here. It’s time. We’re scheduling an entire season. From comedy to tragedy, from backrooms and bars, to orchards and parks. We have struggled for two years against COVID and we have come out the other side excited and ready to make it happen. It’s time to make theatre with our audiences again.

We can’t do it without you, though. As actors, bridge crew, privateers and audience members, you make it possible for us to explore the Bard in new and interesting ways. So, please, volunteer, sign up, and show up. We absolutely cannot wait to see you.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred;
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead. (CIV)