Jessica Robblee is a marvel as Emily Dickinson in ‘The Belle of Amherst’
Many of us don’t know much about poetry nowadays, but among a scattering of Shakespeare lines and something about a horse on a snowy evening floating in our memories, we have heard about this reclusive woman who wrote a plethora of impressive poems that weren’t discovered and celebrated until after her death.
It’s an appealing story from literary history, this tale of Emily Dickinson, and it’s brought to life in William Luce’s 1976 one-woman play The Belle of Amherst, now playing at Denver’s Buntport Theater in a production by newcomer Clover & Bee Productions. If there’s any doubt about the love company co-founders Mark Ragan and Jessica Robblee have for Dickinson, it’s right there in her poem “To Make a Prairie”:
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee.
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
With Ragan directing and Robblee portraying Dickinson, the show is staged in the Buntport’s black-box space with an elegant and functional set designed by David Castellano and beautifully lit by Emily Maddox. Robblee, who’s well known around the state for her versatile and skilled approach to all types of characters, is particularly well suited to play Dickinson, portraying the complex and secretive poet with a great deal of mirth, energy and empathy. In an ankle-length white dress that was Dickinson’s trademark, Robblee makes full use of the stage as she depicts numerous characters — from her siblings Lavinia and Austin to her parents and even the gossipy townsfolk always popping by to try to get a glimpse of the self-imprisoned artist.
And while it may seem sad to contemplate her situation as an unmarried, untraveled virgin with a very limited social circle, The Belle of Amherst presents her as a lively and intelligent woman who seems mostly content with her situation and surroundings.
Where it all happened: Robblee as Dickinson at her desk | Photo: Jamie Shaak
Luce drew heavily from Dickinson’s letters and any other material he could get his hands on, and his script is a mostly successful attempt to make such a quiet life quite vibrant by exploring the layers of Dickinson’s upbringing and surroundings. Deeply attached to her father, Edward, and her siblings, she also delights in her nieces and other children while growing ever more reclusive as she grew older — dying at only 55. And while she attended the local Amherst Academy from 10-17, she never went on to college, focusing instead on her own intense exploration of the English language through the nearly 2,000 poems she wrote in her lifetime.
Existing on the complete opposite end of the entertainment spectrum from, say, Fast & Furious XXVII, The Belle of Amherst is not the sleepy show I envisioned. It’s an engaging 90-minute portrayal of a near-mythical literary figure who, it must be said, didn’t write so many well-regarded poems without a brilliant mind. Robblee captures well the artist’s blend of intelligence, inquisitiveness and underlying melancholy with an astonishing degree of success.
I often find watching one-person shows to be a bit nerve wracking as the actor soldiers through a ton of lines with no one in sight to save them if they slip. There can also be an underlying hubris related to what is indeed a theatrical feat — but that’s nowhere to be found in Robblee’s performance. She is at the top of her game, a highly accomplished actor displaying the confidence and authority necessary to pull this off.
The actor and director worked to establish a level of rapport between the audience that effectively wiped away any artifice — along with the fourth wall. Robblee addresses us directly and at times even engages with audience members. This is her world, her bedroom, even, and she welcomes us into it with such warmth and authenticity as to make us feel that we are among the chosen few invited into her world, her thoughts, her weirdness.
Set aside what you might or might not know about Emily Dickinson and engage with The Belle of Amherst as a deeply human story from the 19th century that’s highly relatable and relevant. Such a loving portrait is a rare thing to see, and perhaps just the right antidote to combat the negative energy so pervasive here in 2023.
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