Once school had put me off Shakespeare, it was years before I read King Lear and realized what all the fuss was about.
I became properly reconciled with Will (it wasn’t his fault, after all) on going to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream in a production that gave a hint of how it might have been staged by the man himself.
In the early nineties, a troupe of travelling players pitched a high marquee in Madrid and acted it out there, with plenty of gusto and their kids running up and down the aisles. I’ve still got their magical poster.
Thirty years on, I see that the Footsbarn Theatre is still up and running and touring: good on them!