The extraordinary thing about Swanson's Alley is how well it shows the spirit and life of those who play in it: the cast's dancing and singing (all rock and roll) in the green room after the performance seemed a perfectly natural epilogue to the ebullience and vigor displayed on stage.

Such tumultuousness no doubt, seldom convenes on the Loeb back-stage, hitherto reserved to more sophisticated gatherings. But the less reserved bring with them an enthusiasm which to Stephen Aaron, co-director of the production, makes them "one of the most exciting groups I have ever worked with."

The actors are teenagers (most of them 18 to 20 years old) from the Cambridge Neighborhood House who met last year with Walter Schieder (an unassuming Harvard graduate student who takes no credit but deserves most of it) and decided to produce a play. Declining several published plays because "they were about grownups--we wanted to do something about kids," they commissioned one from their midst, Frank "Junior" Dempsey, to write a new play, which Dempsey did--in three days.

"What I was trying to show," said Dempsey, "is how teenagers are fixing their own problems up. You see, a lot of people would think that Pete--he's the one that squeals to the other gang to stop the rumble--well, a lot of people would think he's a fink. But he's only trying to help them out. So, you see, the point is, there is no such thing as a fink."

The plot is simple and tight enough but several factors have distended the play in such a way as to make it reflect, very effectively, the vigor and the sullenness, the intensity and the aimlessness, to which the actors are accustomed--loose and pointless dialogues, interludes of street dancing (choreographed by two of the girls, Pauline Dempsey and Elaine "Muzzy" Moscatel, often disinterested actions, often passionless speech, and informal acting heightened by improvisation.

The cast, already turned avid drama enthusiasts from their own work, recently saw the HDC production of Troilus and Cressida ("That drunken guy was a riot") and there many of them acquired a further taste for Shakespeare. Ann-Marie "Turtle" Cottagio, who would "love to act professionally," said she would like to do a Shakespeare play next, to which a well over six foot, well over 200 pound football player, Richard Herman replied that he would be Shylock. But Dempsey, the playwright, thinks Shakespeare is dry.

Whatever the controversy over particulars, all are unanimous in their desire to produce another play. Since the advantage of their producing on a Harvard stage is mutual--only the most supercilious Harvard man would not have enjoyed Swanson's Alley--I put in my plug now for making this production a precedent for many more such cultural exchanges.