Responding to a bit of magic in The Tempest from Quantum Theatre, Antonio surveys the strange island around him. “It is the quality of the climate,” he opines, wondering if there isn’t inherent power in the place.

That’s certainly true of the Carrie Blast Furnaces, where Quantum Theatre has already staged two titanic works of Shakespeare — King Lear and Hamlet — and where they return for The Tempest, the tale of castaway creatures and lost nobles generally regarded as Shakespeare’s farewell. No matter where you stand in this sprawling site, the hulking steel structures overhead add weight and waste to the landscapes — along with a great deal of complicated history.

Quantum Theatre “Makes This Place a Paradise” With The Tempest

If we can put some of that weight aside for a moment, Quantum has in the Carrie Blast Furnaces site made one of Pittsburgh’s loveliest and most powerful stages. The audience for The Tempest walks down a long path toward a quiet corner of the landscape, pausing for a time to watch a ship full of sailors tossed to the winds; the mast, erected on a tall wall, lists to the side, barely clinging to the eternal edifice behind it.

On arrival at the main performance space, nature and steel fight for supremacy. Prospero’s books spill out of an overturned ladle; just behind it, though, a towering tree frames the action. It’ll glow green with light by the end of the evening, one of several subtle and impactful touches by lighting designer C. Todd Brown. Creaking, metallic astrolabes lead off into a darkened path just out of sight.

It’s a remarkable space, and it’s used to great effect — before the actors say a word.

A Fiery, Angry Take on The Tempest

Propsero, the tired sorcerer seeking something between revenge and forgiveness from those who trapped him on this isle, is played here by Jeffrey Carpenter, a fixture of regional theater in general and these journeys specifically; he played the title role in King Lear and directed Hamlet. He stalks around the space with hard-won authority and justifiable bitterness; while he softens around his daughter, Miranda (charmingly played by Carolina Vargas Romero), he seems to feel the weight of the machinery around him on his shoulders.

His most open contempt is reserved for Caliban (an excellent Jerreme Rodriguez), the literal son of a witch who has become an unwilling servant. In many productions of The Tempest, Caliban is mischievous and somewhat playful; here, he’s tortured and dangerous. When we meet him, his head is trapped in a cage. With the ghosts of generations of laborers surrounding the site, a connection can naturally be made; sorcerer and servant, foreman and worker.

By the time Prospero gets to the play’s most famous passage — declaring, “Our revels now are ended; these our actors … were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air,” there is none of the usual triumph or bittersweet remembrance associated with those lines. There is only a wide-eyed acceptance tinged with regret.

A Strange and Beguiling Midsummer Night

Throughout, The Tempest surprises with unexpected — even curious — choices. Music sometimes filters in and sometimes does not; a costume piece will seem grounded in logic, only to be met by one rooted in absurdity; the very environment itself will change, as it does when a screen appears in the distance to catch shadows.

In that, it’s quintessentially Quantum; this is a company that never falls back on the expected. It feels like the conclusion of a trilogy with King Lear and Hamlet — and, of course, is the culmination of the 36-year tenure of founder Karla Boos (read that story in the latest issue of TABLE Magazine) — and yet seems to be a show on its own island.

There is frustration juxtaposed with beauty in this production. Perhaps that’s the emotional equivalent of rusting machinery surrounded by the greens of summer.

Plan Your Evening at Quantum Theatre’s The Tempest

You’ll want to plan your journey in advance; there’s only one way to the Carrie Blast Furnaces, and it could be impacted by the ongoing I-376 closure (the nearby Rankin Bridge is on one of the detour routes). So allow plenty of time; Quantum recommends arriving at 7 p.m. to park, check in and get situated. There’s no late seating, so err on the side of caution.

While you’re overpreparing, though, why not turn up early? The company encourages a picnic dinner (which you can even grab from a local business on your way in) on the grounds, and allows for early arrival starting at 6 p.m. (and opens their concession stand at the same time).

All performances start at 7:30 p.m., and they continue in a light rain; if the forecast is dicey, bring a poncho or umbrella. If the weather looks truly foreboding, Quantum will contact ticketholders directly to reschedule.

The show runs a bit more than 2 hours and 15 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission. (The first act is significantly longer than the second, so perhaps make a bathroom visit upon arrival.) You’ll arrive in the fading daylight; some seats are in direct sunlight, so bring sunglasses. By the time the show ends, night will have fallen; watch your step as you return to your car.

Story by Sean Collier
Photos by Jason Snyder

Subscribe to TABLE Magazine’s print edition.