A Bottom's Dream: A New Midsummer Musical
Clark Park
4398 Baltimore Ave.
Philadelphia
July 25, 2025
Due to excessive heat and predicted thunderstorms, Shakespeare in Clark Park’s musical adaptation of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream — written by composer and playwright Jay Eddy and titled A Bottom’s Dream — was moved to their rain location last Friday at the Annenberg Performing Center, courtesy of Penn Live Arts.
I am not usually someone who welcomes spontaneous performance. Unpredictability makes me itch in my seat and I hold my breath at open mics. In spite of this, seeing A Bottom’s Dream in an unlikely setting and witnessing the cast and crew playfully adapt to challenges out of their control felt like a summer breeze; it was just what I needed to lift the heat.
This was the company’s 20th year providing community members with open access to free adaptations of Shakespeare classics. The show was set in the dog bowl at West Philly’s Clark Park, featuring a small stage nestled in the trees that intended to immerse the audience in the enchanted forest setting of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The scene indoors on Friday looked a little different, with a pop-up tent and string lights stretching across a platform dotted with faux oak stumps.
While the new location provided air conditioning, comfortable seats and sanctuary from the rain, it also presented unique challenges for the ensemble. Set pieces were changed and marking had to be adapted and improvised mid show. Still, the company’s spirit and enthusiasm managed to shine through.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a popular play of choice for modernization; it’s horny, fun, and full of fairies. This queer adaptation was amped up with gender-bent musical numbers and flashy choreography. Actress Jenna Kuerzi’s performance specifically stood out as Snug, a traditionally minor character whose comedic bit is struggling to recall their own lines in the story's play-within-a-play. Kuerzi skillfully warmed the audience to the language and style of Shakespeare, employing a dry affect and imposing healthily pregnant pauses to make room for watchers to find the comedy an intimidating classical format.
Simple gags scattered throughout the broader musical spectacle were ultimately what got the most traction from the crowd. At one point Titania, the Queen of the Fairies who was played by Lili St. Queer, had to adapt to a strange set substitution: an office chair that replaced a chaise lounge. She spun on the chair during the performing numbers for flair. Desperately trying to find a comfortable way to sleep on the chair, she went through a myriad of compromising positions, eventually landing with her face on the floor and knees on the seat before closing her eyes. Her control of audience attention and comedic timing turned this awkward improvisation into a moment of revelry and prowess.
I was pleasantly surprised by the powerful presence of the ensemble that was a born of the can-do attitude of Shakespeare in Clark Park players. It’s clear that the novelty of free theater in the park is not all this company has to offer. The level accessibility achieved was more than physical and financial; the cast succeeded at making an ancient play approachable, fun, and engaging. Maybe my view just looked better from the comfort of a chair, but the ensemble’s unified charisma settled my nerves and swept me off my feet.
