For their Fall 2024 show, Hopkins’ longest-standing theater company, The Barnstormers, performed one of Shakespeare’s most performed plays, the romantic comedy Twelfth Night. I made sure to attend their first performance on Oct. 24, which had a sparse crowd — likely due to it being on a Thursday — but an energetic atmosphere.
The basic story of Twelfth Night goes as follows: Twins Viola (Emma Peralta) and Sebastian (Theo Hasudungan) get in a shipwreck off the coast of Illyria. While Viola makes it to shore, Sebastian is nowhere to be found, and so she assumes her brother has drowned. Disguising herself as a young man named Cesario, Viola then enters the service of Duke Orsino (Ander Diez), and quickly develops feelings for him. Meanwhile, the Duke uses Viola — still disguised as Cesario — to profess his love for the Countess Olivia (Katherine Budinger), who has declared she will see no man for seven days.
She amends this resolution for Viola, whom the Countess falls in love with, not knowing she is disguised. Sebastian wanders around Illyria from Act 2 on, but first encounters Lady Olivia in Act 4. The Countess marries him, mistaking him for his twin sister. All of these misapprehensions come clashing together in Act 5, when the two twins finally find themselves on stage at the same time, unraveling Viola’s ruse and solving the love triangle within a few exchanges.
Twelfth Night has an interesting history — the title refers to the twelfth night of Christmas, or the eve of the Epiphany, a day of great revelry during Elizabethan times, which indicates the play was likely written for a celebration of the holiday. According to the Barnstormers’ program, the play was frequently performed throughout the Restoration and the early 18th century, but then became a bit less popular for over a century; during the 20th century, however, the play was revitalized, and since then has become one the most performed Shakespearean plays of the past century.
For a play with such a storied history of both moribund and resurrected popularity, the choice to include Art Deco elements to the set and costume, indeed to set this play within some vague moment between the 20’s and 30’s, is very fitting. I like to imagine the performances of Twelfth Night during the 20’s and 30’s, at the start of its revival, when it would have been considered a bit scandalous to add a contemporary twist to such an ancient script. Since we are a century removed now, to avoid the crass oddity of adding our own contemporary elements, we turn back to their aesthetics. Perhaps in a century, we will be able to watch Sir Andrew and Sir Toby dance to Taylor Swift, but for now, we are sentimental to jazz and swing.
In accordance with the fashion of this period, the characters were adorned with vests, colorful button-ups, polos, khakis, flat caps, bowler shoes, tight suits, slim dresses and even lace veils, when appropriate. The setting of Illyria, an ancient region on the coast of the modern-day Balkans, was condensed into the interior of a modern resort, with characters entering and leaving through a cleverly constructed elevator centerstage, complete with sliding doors and a secondary, wooden lattice.
These elements naturally changed a lot of what might be considered the “typical” performance of the play. Certain knighted characters stick out, for one, but also the necessary concealment of characters during certain scenes felt comically impossible. All things considered, I was not put off by the setting. In fact, the condensed nature of the hotel made me wonder how exactly the characters ran into each other so often in the original script.
When I asked Dramaturg and Hopkins PhD student Neah Lekan about the secret to the longevity of Twelfth Night, she brought up both the romantic and genderbending elements. Though Shakespeare is by no means afraid of the “man playing a woman” trope (or vice versa), this play leans into the irony of gender stereotypes more than the rest.
“I think there’s a combination of the romance element with any Shakespeare comedy [and] this really poignant story about a family reuniting,” she said. “Also, Twelfth night is one of the most gender expansionist plays by Shakespeare…and so in the last few decades people have felt increasingly able to play with that.”
Lekan also pointed me to one of The Barnstormers’ instagram posts, which imitates a promotion photo for a 2009 production of Twelfth Night, starring Anne Hathaway. This photo sums up the homoerotic elements of Twelfth Night perfectly. In it, Anne Hathaway, as Cesario, is positioned between Raúl Esparza as Duke Orsino and Audra McDonald as Countess Olivia, the former mournfully holding the tip of the latter’s rapier, which pulls Hathaway in the close embrace of both noble figures. The central intrigue of the photo is McDonald’s passionate hold on Hathaway’s chin, and the proximity of the two actresses’ lips, highlighting the homerotic implication of Viola’s ruse. It is clear that at least Twelfth Night’s recent popularity can be attributed to this dormant implication of the genderbending comedy.
Of course, the most unique quality of Twelfth Night is its musical elements, a feature which was immediately highlighted by The Barnstormers' performance with a gentle ballad stage right. Max Hsu (Antonio, Valentine), who has played musical accompaniment for multiple Barnstormers productions in the past, played a few gentle chords on guitar, and was then elegantly joined by Audrey Douglas (Captain, Attendant, Officer) on piano, as the lights slowly revealed the brilliant, Roaring ‘20s set.
Another musical element was the ironic “Hey Robin” sung primarily by Feste (Liesel Arauz Vallecillo), Sir Toby (Ander Diez) and Sir Andrew (Mark Gonzales). It is sung multiple times, sometimes centerstage; sometimes with Sir Toby clinking spoons against liquor bottles behind the hotel bar; and still other times offstage, as a way to announce Feste’s impending entrance and exits. The hilariously jocund lines, “Hey, Robin, jolly Robin / Tell me how thy lady does,” ironically reflect the unreciprocated love which serves as the play’s main tension.
In my opinion, the real strength of this play, especially with this performance, is the subplot. While Viola, Duke Orsino and Countess Olivia are immersed in their comical love triangle, Feste, Maria (Gemma Watson), Sir Toby and Sir Andrew embark on a hilarious prank against Olivia’s steward, Malvolio (Ryan Garza). Maria writes a letter pretending to be Lady Olivia, confessing her love for the steward, instructing him to wear yellow stockings (a color Lady Olivia despises) and smile incessantly at her. The result was spectacular, Garza entering a crowded stage with the most ridiculous yellow-striped suit I’ve ever seen. His aloof smile was the cherry on top, contrasting hilariously with Budinger’s expression of extreme distaste. “Not black in my mind but yellow in my legs,” was a particularly funny line.
Gonzales’s performance of Sir Andrew got the most laughs by far. While Sir Toby’s drunken cunning and Feste’s clever wit were perfectly portrayed by Diez and Vallecillo, every time the otherwise silent Gonzales chipped in, I couldn’t help but laugh. When he cut off Garza in his scolding with “That’s me, I warrant you,” correctly identifying himself as Malvolio’s “foolish knight,” I, along with the crowd, lost it. If the line seems tame to you, that’s only a testament to Gonzales’ perfect intonation.
One of the reasons I favor this subplot over the main plot is due to its clarity. This was my first time with the narrative of Twelfth Night, and so I must confess I wasn’t aware of the connection between Sebastian and Viola until the fourth act, after Sebastian marries Lady Olivia. One identifiable reason for this was the slight differences between Sebastian and Viola’s costume. Both wore magenta polos, puffy white pants and gray flat caps, but Viola’s polo had white buttons and a white lining around the collar, as well as brown shoes instead of black.
These differences might not sound like a lot, but given the fact that it’s impossible to actually cast two twins, or two people who look alike, especially for a smaller college theater company, these details threw me off. I will take some of the blame — I’ve always found it difficult to follow along with the dialogue in Shakespeare plays, partially because most modern productions require actors to speed up their lines to mimic casual speech. Still, I’m guessing there would have been less confusion on my end if the costumes lined up a bit more exactly.
This was my only reservation with an otherwise perfect performance by the talented student actors of The Barnstormers. I encourage everyone to keep up to date with their performances through their instagram @jhubarnstormers so you can catch their future shows. These students work diligently to bring great art to the Hopkins student body, staying up late for weeks rehearsing and making sure the set is just right. I hope that what you get from this article is admiration above all else, and the desire to see their next great performance for yourself.
Editor’s Note, 2024: An earlier version of this article incorrectly spelled Ryan Garza’s last name and incorrectly stated that the slight difference in costumes was between Olivia and Sebastian. Legs in the quote “Not black in my mind but yellow in my legs” was incorrectly written as “lengths.” and Countess Olivia was inaccurately stated to be widowed.
The News-Letter regrets these errors.
