On a Diverse Island, a Play About a Magical One Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises. Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Shakespeare buffs will recognize these lines as describing the setting of "The Tempest." But on certain balmy late summer evenings, it's possible to imagine that the magical island in question is none other than Manhattan. This felt especially true on Sunday night at the open-air Delacorte Theater in Central Park, when the Public Theater presented a new musical adaptation of "The Tempest." Directed by Lear deBessonet, the production is the inaugural offering of Public Works, which brings together a diverse network of community organizations and performance groups to create free theater by and for New Yorkers. Time will tell whether this initiative is able to "break down the idea that great art is some kind of precious commodity," as the Public's artistic director, Oskar Eustis, said in a preshow speech. That's a complicated goal, particularly in a city where arts institutions - the Public included - increasingly feel like silos for the privileged, and a lot of art is content to talk to and about itself. You could argue that pretty much all theater in New York is, by now, community theater of one sort or another. For now, the big news is this: Ms. deBessonet, her collaborators and her cast of more than 200 New Yorkers have created a stirring, delightful "Tempest," one that feels more vibrantly alive than many of the turgid, star-studded blockbusters floating around out there. This was a love letter - to Shakespeare, certainly, but really to the city of New York. The words "musical adaptation" and "Shakespeare" don't seem like such a happy combination; the music, after all, is already in his language. But Todd Almond's music is terrifically nimble, as is Mr. Almond's portrayal of Ariel, striking just the right notes of camp and heart. He moves charmingly between Shakespearean phrases and casual, contemporary asides, conveying both affection and angst toward his master, Prospero (a regal Norm Lewis, who loosens up as the show progresses, deftly playing up the character's weary questioning of his own magic). Mr. Almond made light work of heavy lifting, directing the flow of numerous bodies and cameos and frequently addressing the audience as a fey M.C. He was aided in this by the choreography, which moved from basic blocking and gentle patterns by Chase Brock, for those performers without much stage experience, to more complicated sequences for trained performers. The Ballet Tech students were wonderfully textured as spirits invoking merry mayhem through folk-infused dances, choreographed by Eliot Feld, while three gentlemen from the New York Taxi Workers Alliance were sweetly unpolished during a brief interlude in which they ferried around the young lovers Miranda (the fierce yet warm Atiya Taylor) and Ferdinand (Xavier Pacheco, one of the night's brightest stars). These two were their own island of ardent connectedness in a ceaseless swirl of bodies, sounds and colors. Paul Carey's costumes were a riot of tropical hues and pizazz. Ms. deBessonet often deployed larger groups as stand-ins for the spirits swirling about the island, trusting in charismatic principals to anchor the action. The Stephano-Caliban-Trinculo (Jacob Ming-Trent, Carson Elrod, Jeff Hiller) interludes were particularly delicious exercises in farce. But really, this "Tempest" was entirely delicious. One measure of a show's success is to what extent it induces generosity - or the opposite - in its audience. Those attending Sunday's performance (the last of a mere three) cheered happily throughout and stood at the end. Prospero's project is ultimately to please - and so he did.