Last week, I ventured back to a student matinee at the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company in Baltimore to see their latest production of Romeo & Juliet, directed by Molly Moores. It’s an annual rite of spring for this talented group to perform one of the greatest love stories of all time for high school students at 10 o’clock in the morning.
I arrived just as busloads of students from Bowie High School, Patterson High School, and Mount Washington were swept boisterously into the theater, taking their seats on the red velvet seats surrounding the Elizabethan-style stage.
All the tumult emanating from Washington, DC, seemed far away. I could sense the annual disengagement of spring fever in the air among the students. That was about to change.
Once all were seated, in a serious nod to Shakespeare, a jester appeared, followed by a joyful live music performance by the cast in full costume. The actors, especially Benvolio (Tyrel Brown), demonstrated that they could connect the 16th century with these 21st-century young adults through their shoutouts from the stage. His robust performance in the pre-show hinted at the bristling, high-energy stage presence he would later share in the play.
From this moment on, the students knew this was not their parents’ Shakespeare. And that’s the beauty of these first-rate student matinee performances. They make Shakespeare relevant, meaningful, and engaging to students — they know their audiences as well as they know the original Shakespeare.
According to Troy Jennings, director of education, over 13,000 students this school year, 2024–2025, have experienced their matinees.
Now, I will confess. I once played Juliet. I was nine or ten in a free summer-in-the-parks camp program in my hometown, New Rochelle, New York. Someone had the idea to bring all the free camps in the parks together for a summer Shakespeare competition and performance. My brother, a year younger than me, was cast as Romeo. I don’t think he ever learned his lines. I, an unkempt tomboy of a Juliet, never forgot hers.
Wearing a white, itchy dress some cousin once used for her first confession, I belted out: “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? / Deny thy father and refuse thy name, / Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, / And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”
As I was recalling my own glory days (actually the one and only time I have ever been on stage), the actors were splitting the students into opposing groups — the Capulets and Montagues, the warring families at the heart of Romeo & Juliet. The students in this performance would take sides, though ultimately, the side they chose was that of the star-crossed lovers.
And then the play began, and I was just as swept up in the oft-told story as were the students. Mercutio (Josh Williams) just stole hearts as the charming, swaggering, over-the-top Mercutio. His gallant, loyal bravado was matched by the love-struck and tender Romeo (Lloyde Epke).
The play, running a crisp hour and 45 minutes without intermission, never let the students sit back in their seats, startling them with well-choreographed sword fights, entrances from the multi-leveled theater, and the sly politicking of Juliet’s parents, Lord Capulet (James Stringer) and Lady Capulet (Molly Trice) plotting to marry her to the charming Paris (Danny Sakamoto-Wengel) against her wishes. A special shoutout to the Nurse, played with aplomb by Emily Erickson.
And Juliet. Oh, Juliet. I have saved you for last. This Juliet (Amber Smithers) is someone I once co-taught with in a middle school theater class. She was the reason I traveled here in the fall (though she had COVID and did not appear in the performance of Macbeth that I saw then).
But here she was as Juliet — beautiful, on the balcony, projecting all the innocence of romantic ideals and combining it with all the power and smarts of a 21st-century girl who knows herself. Her Juliet is wise to a young man’s love. When she emphasizes that he must show up the next night for marriage, and when he swears that he will, she commands. “O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes her orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.” She is in charge. This is her moment. She is a powerful Juliet.
Some actors one can never imagine playing Shakespeare; Amber Smithers is an actor born to this manor.
This Romeo & Juliet neared its end as all traditional performances of Romeo & Juliet near their end — in tragedy — and there was a rapt silence in the theater. The Capulets and Montagues may now agree to end their war, but it is too late. Paris, Mercutio, Romeo, and Juliet — the next generation — their future is dead. It might be that in this moment, surrounded by high school students — perhaps the spirit of these performances — this Romeo & Juliet felt so much more than a romantic tragedy. Still, as I exited the theater’s dark into the bright-lit spring amid a now more pensive group of students, this Romeo & Juliet felt like a warning for us adults: Look to the future, not the past.
Looking to their future, the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company will announce their 2025–2026 season in late April, and tickets will go on sale at that time for student matinees. However, one thing is for sure: Romeo & Juliet will return next school year.
Running Time: One hour and 45 minutes, no intermission
Romeo & Juliet plays through April 28, 2025, at Chesapeake Shakespeare Company, 7 South Calvert Street, Baltimore, MD. Admission ($20–$26) is limited to schools for student matinee performances at 10 a.m. Baltimore City public school students are free via a grant from the Mayor’s Office.
The cast and creative credits are here (scroll down).
Created by Summer 2024 Interns Naima Gordon and Teagan McCabe
Romeo & Juliet
By William Shakespeare
Directed by Molly Moores
SEE ALSO:
I visit a student performance of ‘Macbeth’ at Chesapeake Shakespeare Company (feature by Caroline Bock, November 8, 2024)