There’s something electric about the moment right before a play starts. The susurrus of the audience quiets, and you feel like you’re being let in on a really big secret. At American Players Theatre (APT), no house lights dim to cue this anticipation. No grand drape sweeps upward to seize your attention. Instead, as the evening sun filters down over the outdoor Hill Theatre, a sweet fanfare sounds and you feel the energy shift. Something potent is about to begin.
A play at APT is like no other. This professional theater company in rural Wisconsin draws the finest artists from all over the country for a chance to ‘play in the woods.’ The company’s primary stage, the Hill Theatre—or “Up the Hill”—does nothing to undermine the natural beauty that encompasses it. It is built into a geological ‘bowl’ on the top of a hill in the Driftless Area, where the natural acoustics allow for an outdoor Greek-style amphitheater that needs no microphones. The theater offers sparse protection from nature’s interruptions. When it rains, actors don’t even blink out of character. It isn’t until the weather becomes a safety concern that the show pauses and the audience huddles under a slim awning to wait out the storm. Soon, napkins are passed out, seats are wiped, and people settle back in to watch the rest of the play.
The unflappable nature of APT’s audience is as old as the theatre itself. In 1986, just two months after the company announced they could no longer afford to operate, a grassroots effort raised enough money for the season to proceed. Forty seasons later, APT operates with an annual budget of over $1 million, and over 100,000 people flock to southwest Wisconsin for their plays every year. In June of this year, Brenda DeVita and Sarah Young accepted the Tony Award for best Regional Theatre on behalf of APT saying, “This is also for our extraordinary audience, our tenacious, radically committed audience.”
About thirty minutes before each show the audience begins its slow amble up the Hill. Everyone who is able walks in a ritual that evokes the communal nature of classical Greek theater. As they follow the winding gravel path upward, the audience leaves behind some of their own lives to enter on equal footing, united in their intention of seeing a play.
Up the Hill, nature melts into the play and the stage expands accordingly. Much Ado About Nothing begins with a messenger running down the wooden stairs of the aisles, Anton’s Shorts with Chekov emerging from his seat in the audience, and Hamlet with the watchmen peering uneasily into the woods beside them. A 2025 production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream has two green Pucks—one deaf actor, one hearing—chasing each other in and out of the brush, and the four lovers disappearing into the forest only to reemerge increasingly covered in plants. Julia listens to Proteus betray her from behind a rock, Dr. Astrov strides drunkenly away into a bush, and the outlaws of Arden wink cheekily at the audience when the enduring words “All the world’s a stage” expand to include the woods. Birdsong fades into crickets, peepers and the occasional hoot from an owl. Sometimes a pack of coyotes passes through. Bats swoop overhead. On nights when the moon is full, it hangs just above the stage, casting tragedy in an eerie light and making comedy into something otherworldly. Or it lends solace to the hollow end of Uncle Vanya, when Sonya says, “We shall rest” and the lights go out, leaving the audience alone save for the moon and the trees. From soundscape and lighting, to setting and props, the woods play a role at the Hill Theatre, contributing to performances and sharing in the energy passed onstage.
American Players Theatre is an increasingly rare place—one where storytelling and nature intersect. The nature enveloping the Hill Theatre ensures that no two performances can ever be the same. By definition, live theater can only be experienced once. Recordings are flattened into something less, and even if every detail is captured perfectly, the essential energy of performance is still lacking. You can’t ever truly record a play, you can only remember the way you felt. The emotional experience of theater is what changes you, and that is why every moment at APT is electric. Trading ornate stonework and rich velvet curtains for a summer breeze and a clear starry sky puts the exchange of energy that draws people to live theater display. The woods pull the influence of setting on story into focus, and imbues each performance with something other exceptional professional theaters can’t replicate. It reminds both players and audiences that the very soul of theater is—like nature—something alive to witness.