A Chilly evening with more than a hint of rain, a lot of pollen in the air and the threat of biting insects - this was the first night of the City of Oxford Theatre Guild's production of Twelfth Night in the garden of New College, where it runs until 15 July, writes Paula Clifford.

But audiences who flock to 'summer' Shakespeare are a hardy lot, and with blankets for hire at 1 a go thoughtfully provided by the organisers and spiced wine available in the interval, we all had a thoroughly good time. Under Gerard Gould's direction, this is a Twelfth Night in traditional style, set in an intimate corner of the garden which is well endowed with trees to help the wicked purposes of Sir Toby Belch and friends. In the absence of staging, a creative use of music and costume results in a pleasantly harmonious and unified production, which begins and ends with the whole cast joining in singing Feste's songs. Quite apart from their other strengths, these actors would make a very acceptable choral group.

The cast is predominantly young, and of high quality, evidenced by the fact that a number of them are about to embark on professional training. They include Kerry Elkins, already with a number of local successes to her credit, who is a most appealing Maria, and Abbey Wright from Oriel College, a gently convincing Viola. The comedy scenes are executed almost flawlessly. When Sir Toby (John O'Connor) is drunk you can almost smell the drink on his breath, while Sir Andrew Aguecheek (Rob Reynolds) is a delightfully credible idiot. (Did he mean to lose his wig which does indeed hang "like flax on a distaff"? If not, he retrieved it so skilfully that this little diversion really ought to be kept in.) When they and Maria confront the deranged Malvolio (Pray God he be not bewitched") they do so brandishing a prayer book and an outlandish bag of garlic. By contrast, the jester, Feste (Dominic Oliver) seems more restrained, with strong hints of hidden depths. Nick Quartley turns in a masterly performance as the lavishly cross-gartered Malvolio. He does not arouse any sympathy but neither is he a true figure of fun perhaps his overarticulated vowels are too close to home for that and even when bound and blindfolded he never quite loses his dignity.

With the actors on the first night undeterred by chiming clocks, passing sirens and shrieking revellers on the other side of the wall, the City of Oxford Theatre Guild is set to notch up yet another success with this, its 46th consecutive production of summer Shakespeare.