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This issue of Western European Stages completes its twenty-fourth year of publication. The journal has provided one of the most detailed and comprehensive overviews of season-by-season activities in this major part of the theatre world. With the disappearance of the Russian control in the east, the rise of the European Union and the rapid increase of productions from a variety of countries, east and west, the face of Europe has changed. The quarter century is a good time to take stock of what has been done by WES and where
This issue of Western European Stages completes its twenty-fourth year of publication. The journal has provided one of the most detailed and comprehensive overviews of season-by-season activities in this major part of the theatre world. With the disappearance of the Russian control in the east, the rise of the European Union and the rapid increase of productions from a variety of countries, east and west, the face of Europe has changed. The quarter century is a good time to take stock of what has been done by WES and where
This issue of Western European Stages completes its twenty-fourth year of publication. The journal has provided one of the most detailed and comprehensive overviews of season-by-season activities in this major part of the theatre world. With the disappearance of the Russian control in the east, the rise of the European Union and the rapid increase of productions from a variety of countries, east and west, the face of Europe has changed. The quarter century is a good time to take stock of what has been done by WES and where
Christopher Balme Miriam D'Aponte Marion P. Holt Glenn Loney Daniele Vianello Harry Carlson Maria M. Delgado Barry Daniels Yvonne Shafer Phyllis Zatlin Editorial Staff Martin E. Segal Theatre Center-Copyright 2012 ISSN # 1050-1991 Professor Marvin Carlson, Director of Publications Frank Hentschker, Executive Director Rebecca Sheahan, Managing Director Thomas Ostermeier Photo: Courtesy of Ouest France. Alexandra Sascha Just, Managing Editor Anita Yarbery, Editorial Assistant Shiraz Biggie, Circulation Manager To the Reader With this issue Western European Stages completes its twenty-fourth year of publication. During that quarter of a century, this journal has provided one of the most detailed and comprehensive overviews of the season-by-season activities in this major part of the theatre world available anywhere in any language. It has been an extremely exciting and innovative period, marked by the work of many of the greatest directors of the twentieth century, by actors and designers of equal achievement, and by remarkable changes in theatre design and technology. At the turn of the century we offered two special issues that gave a complete survey of the current theatrical scene in every country, down to the smallest, in this part of the world, a kind of overview unavailable anywhere else. Many of the larger countries, such as Germany and Sweden, have received special issues, as have certain aspects of the contemporary stage, such as the growth of women directors in Europe. Interviews with leading artists have also been a regular feature, as have been detailed reports on all of the leading Western European theatre festivals. The quarter century is a good time to take stock of what has been done by WES and where we should move in the future. The most obvious matter to consider is how the face of Europe has changed in the past quarter of a century. When this journal was founded, Eastern and Western Europe were two quite distinctly political and theatrical spheres. Today, with the disappearance of the Russian control in the East, the rise of the European Union, and the rapid increase of productions combining the artists from a variety of countries, east and west, this cold war division no longer makes much political or theatrical sense. Much more locally, the unexpected death of our dear colleague, Daniel Gerould, for many years the editor of our sister journal, Slavic and East European Performance, raised the immediate question of whether and in what form that journal should continue. Fortunately, Professor Gerould had already initiated conversations with Allen Kuharski at Swarthmore University about the future of the journal, conversations which we have continued after Dans death. The result has been the decision to combine the interests of these two journals into a new journal, to be called European Stages, which will, we hope more accurately refect the contemporary European situation. It will operate as a peer-reviewed journal. Library and other subscriptions to WES will be continued in the new publication, although we are planning to gradually convert the publication to an on-line journal, for greater ease of access. We wish to express our warmest thanks to those who have supported WES in the past and we hope that you will fnd this new development continues its service in an even more comprehensive and useful way. Western European Stages is supported by a generous grant from the Sidney E. Cohn Chair in Theatre Studies. Martin E. Segal Theatre Center Journals are available online from ProQuest Information and Learning as abstracts via the ProQuest information service and the International Index to the Performing Arts. www.il.proquest.com. All Journals are indexed in the MLA International Bibliography and are members of the Council of Editors of Learned Journals. Western European Stages will become European Stages / Plans for On-line Edition 3 Table of Contents Fall 2012 5 21 31 35 55 61 67 71 79 85 87 93 95 Marvin Carlson Philippa Wehle Peter Zazzali Glenn Loney Stan Schwartz David Willinger Stan Schwartz Maria M. Delgado Tiina Rosenberg Eero Laine Daniele Vianello Eero Laine Volume 24, Number 2 The Berlin Theatertreffen 2012 Jean Vilar's Legacy: The Sixty-Sixth Avignon Festival, 7- 28 July, 2012 The Sixteenth International Festival of Ancient Greek Drama in Cyprus, July 2012 The Bregenz, Munich, and Bayreuth Festivals The Ingmar Bergman International Theatre Festival Following Favorites Around Europe A Conversation with Thomas Ostermeier Barcelona and Madrid 2012: Making Theatre in a Time of Austerity From Here to Eternity: Miss Julie Strikes Back and Refuses To Die Antigone at the National Theatre, London Bob Wilson: Lulu between Theatre, Visual Arts, and Musical The Prophet by Hassan Abdulrazzak, The Gate Theatre, London Contributors 4 Hate Radio. Photo: Frank Schroeder. 5 The annual Theatertreffen in Berlin is among the outstanding representations of one of the world's most active and innovative theatre cultures, presenting the ten most outstanding productions of the previous year selected by a distinguished jury from the theatres throughout German-speaking Europe. The festival is now approaching its frst half- century (it began in 1963) and has for many years been the best indication of what actors, directors, designers, and dramatists are the most respected in the contemporary German theatre. The Theatertreffen juries have long valued signifcant innovative works over even quite admirable conventional stagings, as for example, those of Peter Stein or Claus Peymann, once favorites at these festivals but now long absent from them, though still actively producing. On the other hand, new styles of interactive and collective work are included in this year's festival, quite unlike anything seen in previous Theatertreffen selections. The program opened in 2012 with a powerful reworking of the fnal three plays of the late British dramatist Sarah Kane: Cleansed, Crave, and 4:48 Psychosis came from a theatre often represented in the Theatertreffen, the Munich Kammerspiele, and was directed by Johan Simons, a most distinguished name in the European theatre. Simons gained a major reputation as the leader of the Amsterdam company Hollandia from 1985 to 2000. Since then he has served as guest director in, among others, Paris, Ghent, Munich, Zurich, Cologne, and Zurich. He has presented works at the Salzburg and Avignon Festivals and three times before at the Theatertreffen, in 2003, 2005, and 2010. In 2010 he was appointed to his present position as Intendant of the Munich Kammerspiele. Sarah Kane has enjoyed a high reputation in Germany ever since her death in 1999. In the early years of the new century all four of her major works were in the repertoire of one of Berlin's leading theatres, the Schaubhne. From the beginning, however, she has been seen in Germany as in England, as a major member of the "in-Yer-Face" school of drama, like Shopping and Fucking, played The Berlin Theatertreffen 2012 Marvin Carlson Sarah Kane's Cleansed, directed by Johan Simons. Photo: Julian Roder. 6 in both countries in a cruel, violent, bloody style of what might be called hysterical naturalism. Simons directly challenges that line of interpretation, fnding a lightness, grace, and lyricism in Kane often lost in the dystopic, nightmarish exploding worlds of torture, cannibalism, mad scientists, and rampaging rats seen in so many Kane interpretations. Instead of the horror flm laboratory setting usually depicted in Cleansed, Simon plays his actors in an infantile therapy group, whose innocent cruelty reminded some German reviews of the world of Shock-headed Peter. The suffering, thwarted love and breakdown of communication remain, but not the amputations, nor the deaths, all of which seem to be imaginary, nor even the division between "doctors" and "patients." Even Tinker (Annette Paulmann), who claims the role of "Doctor" at frst, eventually is clearly just another disturbed child. The Beatles' song "A Day in the Life" bridges between Cleansed and Crave. The setting remains much the same. It is an essentially open area, the main acting space marked by a large shiny metallic foor surrounded by lighting stanchions and containing a group of mismatched chairs and one tall stool. For Cleansed, the chairs are arranged in a small group, like a classroom setting on the right, facing the audience, with the stool on the left. For Crave, all are lined up in a row downstage where the four actors (Sandra Hller, Sylvana Krappatsch, Marc Benjamin, and Stefan Hunstein) sit in various combinations for most of the play. Perhaps the most striking visual element in both plays is the overhead lighting, consisting of a forest of downlights hung at various heights and each one at the top of a white downward-hanging tube perhaps three feet long. Near the end of this linguistic quartet, delivered almost like a musical piece, a gentle mist and then a heavier quasi-rain begins falling from the fies, not apparently disturbing the actors, but wreaking havoc among the overhead lighting. The long white tubes, apparently made of heavy paper, begin to decompose, with occasional fashes suggesting shorts in the lighting. Eventually nothing is left of many of them but the black wheels from which they were hung, while a few remain intact and a large number hang in shreds and dripping pieces, creating a vista of desolation and decay. This vista remains over the fnal piece, 4:48 Psychosis, whose fevered and suicidal meditations are perhaps ultimately the darkest of this trilogy. Again Simon seeks the beauty within them, carrying further the musical suggestions of his Crave by placing a chamber sextet (piano and fve strings) center stage to provide an elegiac musical background to what becomes essentially a feverish monologue by Thomas Schmauser. At the beginning of the piece, Schmauser occasionally speaks to or with a male and female doctor (Stefan Merki and Annette Paulmann), during which brief interchanges the orchestra is silent; but near the end Schmauser's role is assumed by a female voice, that of the moving Sandra Hller, who has been sitting in a dark dress among the orchestra and is the only member of the company to appear in all three plays. Her quiet rage, desperation, and suffering take the monologue and the emotional impact of the play to new depths. For several years the Theatertreffen has sought to include cutting edge new performance pieces that stretch the boundaries of conventional theatre. Some of these are truly original, others, like this year's second offering, Conte d'Amour, although (and perhaps in part because) they come trailing a history of European avant-garde festival prizes, prove in the event to be little more than rather overblown explorations of much more original experimental work of the past. Anyone who has seen the work, for example of Radiohole or Collapsable Giraffe in New York will have experienced performances highly similar to Conte d'Amour, but far more original and theatrically exciting. Conte d'Amour is not so much a collective but a corporate creation, very typical of the kind of collaborative endeavor between various experimental groups and experimental venues and festivals today in Europe. It was created as a package by the Finnish collective Nya Rampen, the Swedish collective Institutet, and the Swedish visual artist Markus hrn, who serves as both director and designer. The performance is based on the real-life crimes of Austrian Josef Fritzl, which have already inspired a large number of dramatic treatments in the German-speaking world. In 2002 Fritzl's daughter published a shocking autobiographical report of how she spent most of her youth as a sexual captive in her father's basement, having several children by him. This grim situation is recreated in the hrn production, where the audience enters to see a construction distinctly reminiscent of the Neumann bungalow utilized by Castorf in the late 1990s. A small white picket fence and green border surround a large box, the size of a capacious room, covered with translucent plastic so that we cannot see inside. On top of this box is a platform with a wall behind it, suggesting an upstairs room. When the audience enters, a tumble of fgures is dimly seen on a sofa in this upstairs area; and when the performance 7 begins this tumble is revealed to be a single living fgure, Jakob hrman, as the "father," dressed only in a bathrobe and briefs, and three large and rather crude mannequins that he treats as children, trying to crush cereal into their closed mouths, and to pour soft drinks over them. This scene serves as a prologue to the main action, which takes place downstairs in the plastic- fronted basement. hrman leaves the upstairs by a small hidden door in the back wall, and from that time on we see the performance's action only through two video cameras, one normally held by one of the actors, the other hung on a wall of the "basement," offering a more panoramic view. hrman uses a ladder to descend to the basement, then pushes it back above, cutting off all escape. He brings with him a McDonald's hamburger, fries, and drink, to feed his "family" in the basement. This family is composed of three live actors, Elmer Bck, Rasmus Sltis, and Anders Carlsson, all apparently somewhat demented, one dressed as a woman, another played apparently as a hyperkinetic imitation Chinese. The main scenery is a center pole around which characters frequently swing, a sofa, the apparently home of the cross-dressed character, and a help of china dolls which are from time to time crushed and broken. The text consists of bursts of mixed English and German, usually having to do with father-child relationships, love, and dominance. There is almost no overt sexuality, but much suggested intercourse and even more violence, both real and suggested. The audience is cast as voyeurs, following the action on two large live video images continuously projected on the upper wall, one from the hand-held camera and one from the stationary one. The actors sing, speak, and occasionally dance both for each other and for the ever-watching cameras. At the opening of the production hrn announces to the audience in English that the performance will last three hours, without an intermission, and so, "because we love our audiences" people should feel free to come and go as they please. Given the fact that the performance was scheduled to begin at 9:30 in the evening (and actually began later as the doors were not yet open at that time), this seemed a clear invitation for people to drift away from this lengthy, unstructured, and highly repetitive production. People began drifting out after the frst half-hour and continued, sometimes quite noisily, for the rest of the evening. By the end, I would estimate about half of the audience (originally about 300) had departed, and the fnal applause was less than enthusiastic, and not devoid of boos. It was, alas, not hard to see why a production containing so many of the clichs of experimental Conte d'Amour, co-produced by Nya Rampen, Institutet, and Markus hrn. Photo: Manuel Neureiter. 8 staging and salacious material of the avant-garde of the last twenty years would be embraced by the contemporary commercialized packaging of the European avant-garde, but it is still depressing to see a work with so little real innovation or imagination being presented not only at the Theatertreffen, but at Avignon, the Vienna Festwochen, Impulse, the Baltic Circle, and in Paris, Malmo, Cracow, and heaven knows where else. Nothing could more clearly illustrate the contemporary herd mentality of these institutions. The Macbeth from the Munich Kammerspiele, directed by Karin Henkel, also contained many familiar elements from the recent avant-gardea much truncated and rearranged text, a severely reduced number of players, and cross- gender casting, but created from them a highly original and moving interpretation. Henkel is a leading member of the still small group of acclaimed female directors in Germany. She does not have an established theatre home but has regularly directed at most of the country's leading theatres, primarily in recent years at Hamburg and Stuttgart. She has received two previous invitations to the Theatertreffen, for her Platonov in 2007 and for her Cherry Orchard last year. At the center of Henkel's Macbeth, in every sense of the word, is the remarkable actress Jana Schulz, a thin androgynous fgure who wears throughout the bloody shirt from the opening battle as an indication perhaps of post-traumatic stress. If this Macbeth is driven, it is not by a lust for power, but by a gnawing conscience and a horror at a world of bloody struggle, a nightmare from which he cannot escape and to which he is driven to contribute. There is much more of Hamlet in this Macbeth than I have ever seen and just as the melancholy Prince has often been successfully played by women, Schulz seems a perfect embodiment for Henkle's reinterpretation of this fgure. Macbeth is the only role played by a single actor. The other four members of the company play a variety of roles from two to six. The one after Schulz most associated with a single role is the corpulent Benny Claessens, who primarily plays Banquo. After Banquo's death he rarely leaves the stage, serving as a continual reminder to Macbeth of his falling into the world of violence that so attracts and repels him. Although a few settings, such as "an open place," "Macbeth's castle," or "England," are indicated by crude letter signs in English held up by the actors, the setting remains essentially the same. A large black box center stage in the shape of a simple house, surrounded by a lighter colored acting area. At the opening, the front of this box is opaque and bears in large letters the title (in German) Sleeping William Shakespeare's Macbeth, directed by Karin Henkel. Photo: Courtesy of the Berlin Theatertreffen. 9 Room. Later, when the lights come up inside this space, we fnd that this description is correct. The single piece of furniture in the room is a simple bed, far upstage. This is the royal bed, and synecdochally represents the kingdom, a reference reinforced by the fact that its inhabitant often wears a large golden paper crown. Surely the most impressive and striking use of this bed is that in the fnal third of the play, the highly corporeal ghost of Banquo takes possession of it and lolls about on it, wearing the crown, and clearly indicating the eventual possession of it by his offspring while Macbeth struggles elsewhere around the stage with his own demons, real and imaginary. Although the most striking example of cross-gender casting is Macbeth, there are a number of other examples. Two of the witches are female (Katja Brkle and Kate Strong) and one male (Stefan Merki), the three members who make up the rest of the cast. Brkle plays both Lady Macbeth and Malcolm. Strong plays Macduff's son, a murder, and a chambermaid. Merki plays Duncan and both Macduff and Lady Macduff. I had never realized before how often references to gender and sexuality appear in this play, and this production foregrounds them both literally and symbolically, beginning with Banquo's characterization of the witches as of ambiguous gender, and continuing through Lady Macbeth's "unsex me," and her frequent charges that Macbeth is less than a man. The production abounds in striking tableaux and sequences. Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene is done as a duet with Brkle and Strong in identically dark fowing nightgowns and standing behind thick candles and moving through identical and highly complex washing actions along with the lines. A section of the back wall above the stage is from time to time removed to reveal an inner playing space, somewhat like a puppet theatre, which, because of its proximity to the bed, often suggests a dream or nightmare sequence. Here, for example, the murder of Lady Macduff and her child is shown, rather in the style of a puppet Grand Guignol, with Macbeth himself climbing into the acting area to carry out the bloody execution. Among the few stage props is a spindly tree branch, not much larger than a broom, which is established in the opening scene as an accessory of the witches, both as the conventional riding broomstick and a kind of mock scepter. Later, it appears in their fnal prophesy to the king as a symbol for Burnam Wood. Only the frst two of the three prophecies are given in this adaptation, the fnal confrontation with Macduff and the revelation of his birth having been cut. Thus, in the fnal sequence, Macbeth dies not in battle but suffocated under the encroaching wood. Branch after branch, multiple copies of the witches' broom, are thrown into the "sleeping room" by invisible hands through the puppet stage opening at the rear, totally covering Macbeth, who falls to the foor beneath the window. When he is completely covered, the three witches, dressed in the elegant matching cocktail dresses they wore at the beginning, appear in silhouette in the opening above the heap of branches, as if to make a fnal appraisal of their work. One of the most popular pieces in this year's Theatertreffen was the delightful (S)panish Fly, created by Herbert Fritsch, appropriately hailed by Der Spiegel as the "director of the hour." Clearly, however, Fritsch is not that ephemeral a phenomenon. He has long been known to Berlin theatre audiences as a leading actor in the much-lauded company of Frank Castorf, beginning in the early 1990s, the Golden Age of that company. At that time, Castorf held a position much like that of Fritsch today, the darling of the Berlin theatre world, his productions appearing annually at the Theatertreffen. During the new century, Castorf's star has distinctly faded, but in this new decade Fritsch's has suddenly burst forth. Although he has gained distinction as an actor, a flm director, a graphic artist, and a photographer, he turned to directing only at the age of ffty-six. This was in 2007, when he resigned from the Castorf company after a decade and a half there and began directing on his own. He met with almost immediate and astonishing success, having the rare distinction of two of his productions selected out of the ten offered in the 2011 Theatertreffen, Hauptmann's The Beaver Coat and Ibsen's A Doll House. His The (S)panish Fly is, as I have said, one of the most popular offerings in this year's festival, and his Mumble Mumble, which opened this year in Berlin, is in the opinion of most, his greatest work so far and an almost certain choice for next year's festival. The Spanish Fly was originally a 1912 boulevard farce by Franz Arnold and Ernst Bach. The modern production has put parentheses around the S to suggest the tone of panic that indeed pervades the action. In popular memory, the hysterical and highly physical sex farce with its misunderstandings, confused identities and parentages, eccentric foreigners, overly sentimental young lovers, interfering maids, and so on, is closely associated with the French stage of the early twentieth century, but Germany at the same time possessed a highly popular and very similar tradition, of which The 10 Spanish Fly is an excellent example. This ebullient tradition has long been dormant on the major German stage, where comedy, when it appeared at all, tended to be dark and grotesque, heavily ironic, or frankly, just heavy. It has become a popular concept, especially among Anglo-Saxons, that the Germans simply have no concept of comedy, especially the kind of exuberant free-wheeling comedy of total abandon that is associated with the best French farce. Now comes Fritsch to blow away all such generalizations. He is quite clearly the leading farce director in Europe today, in many ways a throwback not so much to the pre-war theatre farces but even to the spirit of the even more extreme farces of the silent flms. It is in this tradition that he is best placed, although he clearly shows a debt to Castorf in his irreverence, his extremely physically demanding, even violent actions, and his constant quotations of previous, often popular material. Some critics, probably seeking to give his work a higher academic tone, have focused on the often grotesque, expressionistic, but highly controlled presentations of his actors and compared him to Robert Wilson played at a frenetic speed. In a vague reference to the salon settings typical of such dramas, the setting (designed by Fritsch himself) consists entirely of a giant copy of the kind of Oriental rugs found in such salons, spreading from the audience back and partly up the rear wall. It is far too big even for this enormous German stage and has several folds in it near the back, each taller than a human being, and up and down which actors frequently slide, tumble, or frantically clamber. Hidden between its frst and second folds is a large trampoline, allowing actors to leap down upon it and then bounce high into the air, performing multiple contortions as they do so. The physical demands upon all of the company are enormous. Most have grotesque Monty-Python-esque walks and all move at a frenetic space, punctuated by constant falls, any of which seems to threaten permanent bodily harm but none of which seems to have any effect whatsoever. The active maid (Betty Freudenberg) seems to be falling as much as she is walking, but this never diminishes the speech or precision of her movement. Two highly popular comic actors play Ludwig and Emma Klinke, the married couple at the center of the play. Brassy Sophie Rois commands the stage in her Marie Antoinette gowns and wigs (similar enormous wigs are worn by most of the women) but particularly by her ear-piercing shrieks, which literally stop all action on stage when they Mumble Mumble, directed by Herbert Fritsch. Photo: Thomas Aurin. 11 occur. Wolfram Koch as her husband has rouged his cheeks, parted his hair in the middle, and moves with a swaggering campy authority similar to that of Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean. The plot, such as it is, concerns the fact that Ludwig has for years believed that he has fathered a child with a notorious cabaret performer, the appropriately named Spanish Fly (hysterically played in this production by the diminutive Christine Urspruch, who, with the highest wig in the productiona monstrous gray mass some three feet highcomes up to the general height of the other actors). In fact, it could just have easily been the child of dozens of other lovers, including, of course, most of the males in this play. The endless confusions, cover-ups, misdirections, embarrassments, and sexual puns surrounding this imbroglio make up the bulk of the action. Critics and public were united in hailing the work as a comic triumph. By far the most talked-about production of the festival and the one where tickets were most diffcult to obtain was the John Gabriel Borkman of Vegard Vinge, Ida Mller, and Trond Reinholdtsen. Giving a specifc review of this piece is impossible since although it is composed of a number of predetermined (though still to some extent fexible) elements that in general follow a certain sequence, these can be selected, arranged, and altered in different ways, improvised on the spot, so that different performances can radically differ. During its earlier run in Berlin, the program was announced to run approximately seven hours, though it is reported to have run anywhere from three to twelve hours at that time. Revived for the Theatertreffen, it was announced to average eleven hours, but usually ran a bit longer, up to sixteen hours in at least one reported case. The night I attended, it was close to twelve. Since the show begins at 4:30 in the afternoon, this virtually guarantees an early morning ending. Audience members are free to come and go, and most do so, some never returning, so that most nights the original full house (the production always had a waiting list at the Theatertreffen) of around 300 had normally dwindled to thirty or less. This is the fourth Ibsen experiment by Vinge and Mller and their second in Berlin. Last year also at the Prater, at the same time as the Theatertreffen but not a part of it, they offered a "theatre installation" of The Wild Duck, which had many features in common with the current Borkman. The cartoon-like settings and costumes, the grotesque masks worn by all the characters, the obsessive repetition of sequences, lines or words, the casual mixing of Ibsen with all sorts of cultural, political, social, literary, and pop culture references, and above all, the extended use of time. The Wild Duck was performed only once, and no one saw it all, as it ran continuously, twenty- four hours a day, for a full week. It was actually performed in the lobby of the Prater, the auditorium then being remodeled, and audience members could observe it through windows into the lobby while standing out in the street, under the protection of a temporary shed decorated with the pop-art cartoons favored by this group. I do not know if a full week allowed the company to perform their work with all its variations, but I suspect not, and this certainly has never happened with the Borkman. Borkman is performed inside the Prater in a more conventional theatre space. The audience enters this space, however, after passing a smaller enclosed stage-like area seen through peepholes which represents the offce of Hinkel, Borkman's successful rival. Inside, the audience faces a large dark curtain in the middle of which is a screen. Reportedly, the production always begins with a long live video on this screen, taken in the offce space we have just seen. There are apparently two basic versions of this video. The night I saw it, Hinkel, seated at his desk and later pacing about the room, recited in alphabetical order words (but no defnitions) out of a dictionary for an hour and twenty minutes. On other nights, I am told, he simply counted up to 2000 or 3000, again for a video lasting an hour or so. One night, I am told, the counting lasted more than four hours, inspiring a near riot in the theatre, but not having been there, I do not have many details. The entire performance that night, I understand, lasted some sixteen hours. This opening sequence is surely partly designed to demonstrate to the audience the sense of excess and breaking normal theatre expectations, and partly, I suspect, to drive out those who are not willing to accept the producers' demands. By the time I went, though, almost all the audience knew about the opening and many appeared to secure their seats and then left for thirty to forty minutes for drinks and returned when the video sequence was nearing its end. After this, the production, with many digressions, repetitions, and much interspersed material, followed the basic temporal structure of events in the Ibsen original. One familiar with the play could usual tell about where we were in the action and, of course, identifable lines and images would occur, though often distorted in some all. All the characters wore grotesque masks, wigs, and costumes, and the scenery, though elaborate was built primarily of 12 cardboard and done in a crude cartoon-like style. An elaborate and apparently essentially pre-recorded set of sound tracks, combined and lengthened or shortened by the director in the course of each performance accompanied the action throughout, consisting not only of often ironic background musicWagner being a particular favoriteand even more strikingly, certain creaks, squeaks, and other odd noises which accompanied each step each character took (unique to each character somewhat in the style of the old melodrama motifs). Despite the constant shifting and overlapping of these sound elements, from which the actors took their cues for which variation they were performing, there was no sense of hesitation or improvisation but rather an astonishingly fuid and precise series of events, elaborate and excessive as many were. All genres were combined from operatic arias to Star Wars laser battles, with greater extremes of violence, sexuality, and scatology than I have ever seen in the theatre. Much of this is centered on director Vinge, who served as a kind of conductor of the event and also as a major actor, wearing a Wagner T-shirt and often nothing elsedefecating on stage and building small dough-like structures with the result, literally tearing down walls of the auditorium as well as the stage, driving spectators from benches which were then destroyed and in one tour de force, offered most nights, lying on his back and peeing into the ear so as to hit his mouth and spray up the results. Some nights (though luckily not the night I was there) a dozen or so naked actors, just assassinated on stage and covered with false blood and piss (ketchup and mustard) literally crawled out through the audience, driving spectators to retire to the washrooms to clean their clothing. The night I attended, one of the Borkmans (who unlike the other actors was played in three personifcations) had a sequence where he hurled cardboard boxes into the audience, where some hurled them back and others cowered in fear (one colleague actually had a bleeding cut on his head from a bit of fying debris). Clearly an important part of the aesthetics of this company, like some of the body art of the 1970s, though much more inner-directed in its dangers, is in testing the limits of both the form and its spectators. Of course, it is widely denounced as unacceptably anarchic, but that is clearly too simple a reaction. There is no question that amidst the astonishing vulgarity and excess the company also creates unforgettable visual moments and sequences of astonishing originality and complexity. Troubling and even infuriating as Henrik Ibsen's John Gabriel Borkmann, co-created by Vegard Vinge, Ida Mller, and Trond Reinholdtsen. Photo: Courtesy of the Theatertreffen Berlin. 13 it can be, it unquestionably deserves its growing reputation as one of Europe's most daring and original performance groups. Thanks to the chances of scheduling I saw some eleven hours of John Gabriel Borkman on 12 May and was back in the theatre mid-afternoon the next day for eight hours of Faust I +II from the Thalia Theater in Hamburg. Even by the grueling standards of the Theatertreffen, this was a marathon weekend. Happily the Faust, in addition to being a lively and gripping production, was much easier on its audience. Not only were we not assaulted, but we were given an hour break of dinner in the new cafe just opened this year in theatre of the Berliner Festspiele, along with two other twenty- minute breaks and still managed to be fnished before midnight. For a production of both parts of Faust that is fairly modest. When presented at all, it is usually given on two long evenings, and Peter Stein's monumental production a decade ago ran a solid twenty-two hours, not cutting a word. One can be grateful for director Nicolas Stemann's discretion this time. Stemann is a leading member of the generation of new German directors that emerged at the opening of the new century. He frst was invited to the Theatertreffen in 2002 with his Hamlet from Hannover. Since then he has directed at a number of leading German theatres, recently primarily with the Thalia, and has become a regular feature of the Theatertreffen with two productions by Elfriede Jelenik (2007 and 2010) and with Schiller's The Robbers in 2009. The frst part of Faust is played in a three- hour block without intermission, and it is a tribute to the marvelous acting of Sebastian Rudolph that this lengthy period is continually lively and engaging. The interpretation is a tour de force of acting since for the frst hour Rudolph holds the essentially empty stage alonetreating the text as a reading from the small paperback he carries with him. A table, a chair, and a microphone he uses from time to time, but essentially he simply presents the text, playing all the characters, not only Faust but the various theatre personages of the prologue on Earth, a rather dotty God and snide Mephistopheles in the prologue in Heaven, and on into the opening scenes of the play. Mephistopheles at last brings a second actor onto the stage, Philipp Hochmair, who is presented in many ways as a double of Faust, and even somewhat resembles him physically. Not only do they move together and from time to time embrace, they also exchange lines, so that Hochmair becomes a second Faust. A similar process occurs Johann Wolfgang Goethe's Faust, directed by Nico Stemann. Photo: Courtesy of the Theatertreffen Berlin. 14 with Patrycia Ziolkowska, the third actor in this part of the play (there are six in all, plus a soloist, a dancer, and chorus members). She frst appears as Gretchen, but from the Walpurgisnacht onward joins the continually shifting trio of Faust representers. Although these same three actors dominate the second part, although three other "Fausts" appear who also assume other rolesBarbara Nsse, Birte Schnink, and most notably, the corpulent Josef Ostendorf, a frequent performer with Christoph Marthaler, who plays a particularly decadent version of Mephistopheles, a role he and others frequently signal by placing little illuminated red horns on their heads. Although there is still minimal scenerya bit of scaffolding at the sides and back and a blank back wall used for paintings, projections, and in the Helen sequence hung with metallic sheets to represent the palace facade, the second part is from beginning to end much more visually rich and complex than the minimalist frst part, more like the elaborate stagings Stemann has done for his Jelenik productions, with constant references to contemporary concerns, especially economic and political. The Emperor scene, of course, opens itself readily to contemporary excesses of capitalism, as does much of Faust's land speculation in the second part, and Stemann brings in a variety of striking visual aides to emphasize these parallels, including both projections of fnancial charts and graphs, and cardboard cutouts of burgeoning metropolises that overwhelm the stage space near the end. Projections of still images and videos both on the back wall and the two side walls of the auditorium accompany almost every scene as do musical passages from two onstage pianos. As the evening progresses it becomes increasingly self-conscious and self-referential. A fgure resembling the aged Goethe settles into an armchair with a lamp center stage and announces his new discovery of the post-dramatic. Competing scholars on video put forth their various interpretations of Goethe's work. Grotesque puppet fgures fll the stage. All of this reaches a climax with the fnal battle over the soul of Faust, where an army of grotesque puppet demons appear from stage traps with much noise and smoke only to be routed by equally grotesque angels, borne aloft on poles and sweeping over stage and audience alike. At their head is Ostendorf, his considerable girth increased by heavenly robes and huge wings. Amid the chaos the fnal lines of the play are projected above the stage in neon lights while Ostendorf, at the end of a ramp extending up and out into the center of the audience, sings triumphantly: "The indescribable here is achieved." I cannot help concluding with a comment from the critic of the Hamburger Abendblatt which I must rank among the most bizarre appraisals of a production I have yet encountered: "Faust I + II are together longer than a transatlantic fight to New York and leave a more hauntingly beautiful and lasting impression." One would certainly hope so. Although the Theatertreffen John Gabriel Borkman was unquestionably the most radical of the works I saw in Berlin, its visual and dramatic imagination also made it among the most interesting. A production of An Enemy of the People from the Theater Bonn, the other festival entry by Ibsen, seemed to me far too self-indulgent with far too little positive result. The most striking innovation here, at least for the German public, was the casting of a black actor, Falilou Seck, in the role of Dr. Stockmann. Black actors are rarely seen on the German stage (just as black faces are rarely seen on German streets, even in international cities like Berlin), and there has been much controversy in recent years about the use of blackface in the German theatre. In fact, racial matters fgure little in the specifc action of the piece, although they contribute important images and help solidify Stockmann as an outsider. He opens the evening in a glittering frock coat, and performs a sequence suggesting a stand-up comic in a cabaret (among his references are some to the popular German singer of the 1970s, Roberto Blanco, similar in some ways to Harry Belafonte). In broken German, he panders to the audience, discusses his immigrant background, forgets his lines, and when prompted, launches into a beautifully articulated passage from Heiner Mller. This prologue ends when he literally and fguratively "dries up" and calls for a glass of water. He is handed a glass from the wings, flls it at a convenient standing tap by the proscenium, drinks the water, and falls comically to the foor, apparently poisoned. There is no important connection between this prologue and what follows, especially in the character of Stockmann, who now appears as the rather simpleminded head of a household, treating Hovstad (Konstantin Lindhorst), Billing (Nico Link), and his surly brother Peter (Stefan Preiss) to a rather expressionistic dinner where the guests struggle over the single microphone to give lines from Ibsen's opening scene while Stockmann runs back and forth to the kitchen to get wine while his brother seizes each absence to fondle Mrs. Stockmann (Jele Brckner). During the meal the Stockmann's brassy, politically engaged daughter Petra (Marleen Lohse) appears, in cowboy dress and with guitar to sing a 15 Kurt Weill-type "worker's song," explaining at some length and tautologically, how worker's songs are the most beautiful because they are worker's songs. She will appear to present other such songs in a raspy, grating voice several times during the evening, once accompanied by a small rock band made up of the other two children (Luka Marie Schinkel and Joshua Knauber), wearing fur jackets and Viking helmets. In fact Petra, more than Stockmann, is the political center of the play, which very much refects both the artistic and social vision of its director, Lukas Langhoff. Langhoff is the third generation of theatre directors in his family, his father being the well-known Thomas Langhoff. Lukas's style and concerns much less refect the work of his father, however, than that of Frank Castorf, with whom Lukas trained in the early 1990s, when Castorf was at the height of his infuence. From Castorf Lukas seems to have gotten his willingness to take great liberties with texts, even interpellating totally new material into them, along with Castorf's strong sympathies with East German socialistic ideals, both of which are clearly to be seen in this Enemy of the People. When the dinner scene is completed, a large black wall rises in the middle of the stage and most of the subsequent action is played upon it or in front of it. During most of the evening, water runs over this wall, suggesting that it might be serving as a dam. At one point, Mrs. Stockmann writes upon it in huge letters HARTZ IV, a term that is now widely used in Germany, referring to a piece of 2004 legislation concerning unemployment compensation, but now generally used as a noun or adjective referring to the non-working poor, especially emigrants. Stockmann's famous speech in the fourth act is delivered from atop this wall, but not to an assembly, only to Stockmann's four family members, who form a downstage line looking up at him. This long speech, eloquently delivered, without further stage effects except for a spotlight, is one of the most effective sequences in the production and a triumph for actor Seck. It is soon followed, however, by a bizarre and apparently gratuitous directorial intervention. From the fies descends an enormous golden foot, to rest beside Stockmann on the wall. Viewers of Monty Python would see a close similarity to the huge crushing foot at the end of the often repeated animation sequence, though this foot does not crush anyone but simply comes to rest, to be admired apparently by the Doctor. I looked in vain among the reviews for an explanation, but all were apparently as puzzled as I was and few even mentioned this major image. Much more successful was the sequence that followed, when the black wall disappeared into the stage foor and reemerged with a large glass window in its front revealing an aquarium-type space inside, full of smoke and tropical plants, and Henrik Ibsen's Enemy of the People, directed by Lukas Langhoff. Photo: Courtesy of the Theatertreffen Berlin. 16 containing Stockmann's enemies, all in gas masks, who now communicate with him by written messages held against the glass. I found this suggestion of the end-product of environmental indifference striking and memorable, but as usual, an effective device was shortly followed by a seemingly quite gratuitous one. Morton Kiil (Sascha Maurice Hchst) now made his only appearance in the play, to threaten Stockmann with fnancial ruin if he persists. Inexplicably, Kiil is dressed in a huge red gummy-bear costume (at frst I thought it might be a badger, but no such luck). In the fnal sequence the Stockmann family gathers for a picnic lunch in the still uncontaminated air with the contaminated aquarium in the background. Dr. Stockmann spreads out a GDR fag to serve as the picnic cloth and Mrs. Stockmann passes around picnic supplies. Petra, of course, brings her guitar and closes the show with a socialist camp song about the triumph of the workers and the welcome disappearance of capitalism. Each verse has the refrain "It's over, it's over. It's fnally over." The audience, by no means pleased with all the directorial innovations, not surprisingly heartily joined in the refrain, giving rise to a fnal observation by this reviewer. Obviously no intelligent director who is offering a major reworking of a familiar play will provide the audience with such an opportunity to talk back without realizing it. Thus it is clear both that the director expects resistance and even outrage and the audience, at least in signifcant numbers, expects to be outraged and sees that as part of the experience. Many hearty boos were mixed with the applause, but it all seemed ultimately part of the ritual, and a very odd one indeed to an American viewer. The Gob Squad's Before Your Very Eyes, on the other hand, seemed like much more familiar territory, although it took this seventeen-year old and by now quite familiar experimental company in a somewhat new direction. For the frst time company members did not appear on stage, but the piece was performed by seven Flemish children with which the company has been working over the past several years. In other respects, however, the production clearly had much in common with previous Gob Squad work in its mixture of live action, live video, and video clips, as well as in its utilization of found material including people from outside the theatre. Gob Squad plays continuously upon the tension between performance and reality, but usually in a rather arch, self-conscious manner. The seven children perform inside a mirrored room, the side facing the audience being a one-way mirror, giving the illusion that they are unaware of the audience. But the frst line of the play says they can begin because the audience is assembled. Later they are informed that an audience is watching and they come forward to darken their vision before the mirror and try to see out. Since they have already performed this piece widely in Europe, they are perfectly aware of what is going on, however, so it is not clear what this faux- illusionism is supposed to represent. On either side of this box was a large video screen. For the most part this showed clips of these same actors several years younger, carrying on conversations with the never-seen moderator, or with their contemporary selves, who speak into a large TV monitor on stage which projects their image onto the other screen. An interesting linguistic layering is set up, since the moderator speaks in English, and the children in Flemish with their words translated (the evening I saw it) into German supertitles. The theme of the piece is the process of aging, as seen from the perspective of the flmed interviewees, a couple of years now in the past, and their present adolescent selves, both guided by the questioning of the rather smug and presumably adult moderator. What results is a rather simpleminded and somewhat condescending view of the life process from an adolescent perspective, fltered through a world-weary production apparatus. This is a saga of youthful energies, unfulflled dreams, missed opportunities, inevitable compromises, decline and death. It is almost inevitable that the production should arouse associations with the famous British Up Series, directed by Michael Apted, which began in 1964 with 7 Up and the most recent episode of which, 56 Up was released in May of 2012. Here too the project traces the life expectations and fulfllments of a group of youths, beginning at seven and continuing at seven-year intervals, to see how their goals and self-vision change. Obviously the Apted series is far more ambitious, indeed monumental, but its reality, though still somewhat manipulated, its nuance, and its consideration of such concerns as class and economicsconcerns totally absent from the Gob Squad projectemphasizes in a striking manner the simplemindedness and nave sentimentality of the Gob Squad experiment. The last sequence in Before Your Very Eyes that has a touch of authenticity is when the children paint their faces in front of the television set for an extended Gothic scene. After that they begin jumping forward in time, to celebrate a banal fortieth birthday party with the ever present voice of the narrator directing their actions as in "Talk 17 about the wine," "Offer her a glass," or "Look bored." False eyeglasses and pillows for growing paunches represent aging. Then on to the seventies and powdered hair and fright wigs indicating age, and a rather desperate rendering (in French) of "Je ne regrette rien" to indicate an unfailing spirit. Finally an extended, still energetic dance, reminiscent of the opening exuberance, from which one by one of the now aged dancers drop dead to the foor. That is not quite the conclusion, however. One by one they rise, slowly walk backward out of the set, to appear on video as the adolescent selves we saw at the beginning, performing break-dance-like routines in various public places, full of the joy of life and youth. Despite its arty self-consciousness, the piece has real fashes of charm, but it remains a very slight work indeed in terms of either the commentary on the individual human life-experience, which seems to be its concern, or on the social/political implications of any of this, about which it suggests almost nothing. It is certainly a superior piece to the earlier Contes d'Amour, but it is the product of a similar and now increasingly familiar dynamic: the recycling of familiar contemporary avant-garde techniques into a rather banal if trendy metatheatrical and video-dominated production, created by a network of experimental groups (in this case Gob Squad, itself a German/American cooperative, CAMPO in Ghent, and Hebbel am Ufer in Berlin), then using this network as the basis for tours to usual suspects in the European avant-garde scene (the London LIFT Festival, Vienna, Prague, and so on). The Theatertreffen, once outside this circuit, is more and more allied to it, and thus losing some of its distinctive features and becoming more like the Vienna Festwochen or London LIFT. One of Berlin's most innovative directors is Ren Pollesch, who served from 2001 to 2007 as the artistic leader of the Prater, the experimental stage of the Volksbhne, where John Gabriel Borkman was presented. His frst major offering at the Prater was the Prater trilogy in 2002 whose invitation that year to the Theatertreffen frst brought him to national attention. Since then he has won a number of major prizes for his works, written by himself and normally designed by Bert Neumann, and has directed in most of the major German theatre cities as well as in Santiago, Chile, Tokyo, Stockholm, and Warsaw. Although every piece by Pollesch has a somewhat different form and structure, he has become particularly interested in recent years in modern Gob Squad's Before Your Very Eyes. Photo: Courtesy of the Berlin Theatertreffen. 18 work with the chorus and also with monologues. His contribution to this year's Theatertreffen centrally combines these two. It is essentially an hour and a half monologue by the popular flm and TV actor Fabian Hinrichs, who has starred in several recent Pollesch productions, visually backed up by a charming, if not brilliant, group of young German acrobats. Pollesch's work has always operated on many levels, from slapstick and pop cultural references to abstract discussions of political and economic theory. Parody and quotation are central to his productions, which have been characterized as "vaudeville for the intellectual middle class." Some of these proclivities are already clear in the title of this new work: Kill Your Darlings! Streets of Berladelphia. This complex title evokes the current flm project of Daniel Radcliffe and the darkly comic Swedish flm of 2006, both in turn inspired by events in the early years of Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William Burroughs, the equally dark pop hit by Bruce Springsteen (which is heard in the production), and the actual advice of William Faulkner, common in literary circles, to cut out those parts of your writing that you love the most. The portmanteau "Berladelphia" of course converts this primarily American cultural mix into a partly German one. It is the Faulkner advice that provides one through line of the performance. Pollesch has long, like his mentor Frank Castorf, used the theatre in signifcant measure to condemn the many failures of late capitalism, frequently through cruel and grotesque (though still very funny) parody. In recent productions, Pollesch has not changed his political position, but softened its edge and taken a more specifc interest in the dilemma of the individual caught between competing systems of belief and attempting to factor personal emotions into social equations. These are, of course, concerns that much occupied Brecht and add signifcant complexity even to his most overtly political works, such as the Lehrstcke. Indeed, I saw a Castorf production of a combined Yea-Sayer and Nay-Sayer a few nights before I saw Kill Your Darlings and found them very similar in the complex relationship of their emotional and rational, personal and political, and tragic and farcical elements. Unhappily, Hinrichs was stricken with an illness during the festival and several productions of Kill Your Darlings had to be cancelled. Fortunately, however, the production was made available on large video screens at the huge SONY Center near Postdamer Platz, a feature which has now become standard for several of the Theatertreffen offerings, and so I was able to see it in this admittedly less satisfactory form. I thus missed the much praised entrance of Hinrichs through the audience on a bicycle, then to be lifted in a kind of large bucket up into the fies for the opening number, but I did Ren Pollesch's Kill Your Darlings. Photo: Courtesy Berlin Theatertreffen. 19 get to see that spectacular number in which he, in a brilliantly spangled costume, and his chorus of acrobats came whirling down in a crowd from the fies to begin their constantly moving routines. Normally in Brecht and his followers, the chorus represents workers or the proletariat, but Hinrichs playfully introduces his gymnasts as a chorus of capitalists: a sprightly, youthful, and exuberant group of capitalists indeed, far removed from the middle-aged and overweight traditional capitalists of the Brecht tradition. There is indeed a great deal of humor at the expense of this tradition, more than I have ever seen before in Pollesch's work. The empty stage is quite Brechtian and is made more so by such devices as the single piece of scenery, a wagon clearly imitating that of Mother Courage, and a curtain that is pulled across from time to time bearing the name Fatzer. Brecht's Fatzer fragment, an unfnished work discussing the common Brechtian theme of the tension between individual self-realization and submission to the collective, is clearly built into the basic structure of Kill Your Darlings, but it can hardly be taken as a "key" to the work. Like all, Pollesch plays the production is a highly physical exploration of a maze of overlapping political, social, economic, and theatrical concerns. The evening is a tour de force, both physically and linguistically, for Hinrichs, Pollesch's Fatzer, but an essential background for his performance is provided, both literally and fguratively, by the constantly moving chorus, who sometimes simply fll the stage with acrobatic movements, and at others make of their bodies living steps and platforms for the utilization of the supple Hinrichs. The fnal offering of this year's Theatertreffen was also one of its most impressive. This was Chekhov's sprawling Platonov, created for the Vienna Burgtheater by Latvian director Alvis Hermanis. Primarily associated with the New Theatre in Riga, Hermanis has since 2005 begun to make guest appearances in Germany and Austria, though this is his frst invitation to the Theatertreffen. In its richness of scenic detail, its careful attention to the nuances of this complex and diffcult text, and above all in its stunning ensemble work, the Hermanis production hearkens back to the legendary original productions of Chekhov at the Moscow Art Theatre and, for Germans, the great Peter Stein Chekhov revivals of the late twentieth century. Since Stein, however, this style of production has almost totally disappeared from the German stage. In January of 2010, Peter Michalzik, the editor of the arts section of the Frankfurter Rundschau, called the Stein Chekhovs "from today's standpoint, both a highpoint and an endpoint," the "fulfllment of what Stanislavski had begun: historically authentic dcor, precise sounding out of every emotional reaction, exact sizing up of relationships, due attention to every illusion." He might have also added rich and detailed sound tracks made up of the famous Stanislavskian crickets, birds, and distant trains as well as the nuanced, painterly use of light, suggesting the particular atmosphere as well as the time of day. Hermanis' remarkable Platonov clearly demonstrates that this tradition is by no means exhausted, but in the hands of a strong director, designers, and actors, can be just as powerful today as it ever was. Hermanis has only made slight cuts to Chekhov's sprawling text. His version still runs almost fve hours, with a single intermission, and its ffteen characters, all spending twenty-four incident-packed hours together in Anna Petrovna's (Drte Lyssewski) country estate, are at frst quite overwhelming in their comings and goings and their interlocking affairs, but such is the clarity of Hermanis' direction and the skill of his company, that all of these complex inter-relationships soon become both clear and compelling. The setting, by Monika Pormale, is a triumph. The main area shows us two walls of a grand salon, joining upstage center. The left wall contains windows and a door opening out onto a spacious veranda, with elegant fretwork and beyond it the inevitable Russian birch forest. The left wall contains a row of glass doors opening into an elegant dining room with a huge table in the center. Action takes place in all of these areas throughout the evening, and characters move freely from one area to another, often through the middle of other scenes which they may acknowledge or not. The sense of life and fuidity is remarkable and yet always clear. The impact of this lavishly detailed setting is greatly increased by the constantly shifting and sophisticated lighting design created by Gleb Filshtinsky and the elegant period costumes created by Eva Dessecker. In his frst full-length play, Chekhov put together the most scattered and ramshackle structure he ever created, and at the same time, the work is not only unmistakably his, but bits and pieces of all of his later and more famous works can be detected here, along with variations of all of his favorite themes and famous charactersthe feckless aristocrats, the lovesick maidens, the self-obsessed sufferers, the misfts, the failures, the accepting, and the desperate. Seeing them all again in this new confguration is 20 one of the many great delights of this evening. As if all these delights were not suffcient, Hermanis has assembled a company that includes a number of Germany's greatest actors. At the center is Martin Wuttke, considered by many to be the outstanding actor in Germany today, as the hapless Platonov, who somewhat inexplicably arouses passionate interest in almost everyone else in the play. Wuttke's balance of fecklessness and manipulation, of comedy and pathos, is stunning, and a long drunken scene in the third act with the Jewish son Isaak Abramovic (Fabian Krger) shows these two brilliant actors at the top of their form and is simply the funniest (and one of the longest) drunk scenes I have ever seen in the theatre. The rest of the cast is uniformly strong, but particularly notable are Peter Simonischek as the pompous Glagoljev and Philipp Hau as Anna Petrovna's always famished son Sergej. On the feminine side, Lyssewski is admirably seconded by Johanna Wokalek as her somewhat hysterical daughter-in-law Sofa, Sylvie Rohrer as Platonov's long-suffering wife Sasha, and Yohanna Schwertfeger as the landowner Marja Grekova. Following the production, despite the lateness of the hour, the audience called back the company for repeated curtain calls, the most enthusiastic I had seen during the festival. Despite some somewhat questionable choices, which happen every year, it is a testimony to the wide-ranging interests of the Theatertreffen and its jury that by far the two most attractive offerings this season were this Platonov, a remarkable contemporary reworking of one of the most traditional production approaches in the modern European theatre, and the John Gabriel Borkman, clearly dedicated frst and foremost to breaking as many conventional practices as possible. It was in all a most invigorating two weeks and I look forward already to the 2013 edition. Anton Chekhov's Platonov, directed by Alvis Hermanis. Photo: Courtesy of the Berlin Theatertreffen. 21 2012 marks the centennial of the birth of Jean Vilar, founder of the Avignon Festival in 1947, director of the Thtre National Populaire (from 1951 to 1963) and famous theatre director and actor who died in 1971. Tribute is being paid throughout France in celebration of Vilar's many accomplishments, especially in Avignon in July where one could visit a major exhibit devoted to his career at the Maison Jean Vilar, attend a production of a play he wrote in 1941 performed by actors from the Comdie Franaise, and watch Place Public on 14 July,
a sound, image, and light extravaganza created by KompleXKapharnaM, an arts collective from Villeurbanne, that wowed a crowd of over 8,000 gathered on the open plaza in front of the Popes' Palace. Projections of scenes from Vilar's famous productions, interviews with his actors, other testimonials, and even cartoon characters, danced across the walls of the palace as well as the Banque de France. The object was not just to remind spectators of Vilar's project of a people's theatre, a theatre available to all, but also a theatre dedicated to neglected classics and provocative new works. His legacy clearly lives on in the sixty-sixth festival. Franois Hollande, France's new Socialist president, came to Avignon on 15 July, the frst French president to attend the festival since Socialist Franois Mitterand in 1981. Speaking at various venues, he clearly aligned himself with Vilar's ideal when he declared that "the goal of culture is to give access to the arts to the widest possible audience." [Libration, 15 July, 2012]. He also spoke of his commitment to the ideal of forging a new democratic culture that would take into account the cultural, racial, and ethnic diversity of contemporary France. Faced with France's budget crisis and high unemployment, Hollande's main concerns are not likely to be an increase in the cultural budget, but he has already begun a program to make arts education a priority. In press conferences and other public statements, festival directors Vincent Baudriller and Hortense Archambault also acknowledged the debt the festival owes Vilar. "Jean Vilar invented today's Festival," they wrote in the festival program. It is a "laboratory where the most diverse experiments are carried out, not only in the realm of aesthetics but also in terms of the relationship with the public" An impressive line-up of "diverse experiments" included twenty-eight premieres, six performed Jean Vilar's Legacy: The Sixty-Sixth Avignon Festival, 7- 28 July, 2012 Philippa Wehle KompleXKapharnaM 's Place Public. Photo: Courtesy Avignon Festival. 22 in France for the frst time, and sixteen in foreign languages with French supertitles, ffty shows in all that offered audiences a wide choice of trends and practices in today's theater. These ranged from Forced Entertainment's The Coming Storm, the British group's new work that tries to achieve a new narrative language through a series of stories and sketches, to Le Vertige, an interpretation by two women of Hitchcock's Vertigo performed on a high wire, and Disabled Theater, a fascinating performance by eleven mentally disabled professional actors (from Theater HORA in Zurich) working with experimental choreographer Jrme Bel. An unusual number of festival shows included startling scenes of bloodshed, rape, and incest, some so horrifying and virulent that at times it seemed almost unbearable to attend yet another unsettling and painful scene of brutal atrocities no matter how good the production. Thank goodness for Simon McBurney's adaptation of Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita, three hours and twenty minutes of pure entertainment with exciting visual effects and superb acting. Which is not to say that the play does not raise serious issues in keeping with Bulgakov's textissues of artistic and personal freedom, of good versus evil, and of charity versus tyranny, for examplebut it is hard to take matters too seriously when the production often seems closer to a variety show than a drama. How can one take Berlioz's decapitation too seriously when his head is clearly a melon rolling across the stage? Set in Moscow under Stalin and in Jerusalem under Pontius Pilate, with multiple scenes in these entirely different worlds, McBurney's Master and Margarita benefts greatly from the stunning high tech images created by designer Es Devlin's special effects, Luke Halls's 3-D animation, and Finn Ross's huge video projections and satellite photos that transport us through the skies on a galloping horse made out of chairs or through the streets of Moscow, and most impressive, an extraordinary fnal image of the walls of the Honor Court crashing down on us. Sixteen Complicit actors perform the play's many different roles: Berlioz, the chairman of the literary society MASSOLIT, Ivan the young poet whose long poem has been found suspect, Woland, the Devil, an expert in black magic and his three cronies, one a large talking black pussy cat. They are all superb, especially Paul Rhys as both the Master and the Devil Woland, Tim McMullan as Pontius Pilate who moves from powerful but confused to becoming a human being with doubts about his decision to crucify Christ, and Sinad Matthews's Simon McBurney's adaptation of Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita. Photo: Gerard Julien. 23 devoted Margarita who sells her soul to the devil in order to win the Master's redemption. As the play opens, Ivan discusses atheism with Berlioz, and Woland all in black with startling metal teeth, joins them to set the record straight. After all he was there, he says, when Pontius Pilate sentenced Christ to the cross. Therefore there is no question but that God exists. The scene shifts to Jerusalem where in a ray of light, Pontius Pilate (suffering from a terrible headache) discusses mercy and compassion with a Christ who exhibits real suffering, with his crown of thorns and emaciated body. Before long the Police take Ivan away to an insane asylum where he is incarcerated not because he is insane, but because he has begun to question the party line. There he is joined by the Master whose novel about the meeting of Pilate and Christ is deemed irrelevant in an atheist society. Margarita appears, and she and the Master fall in love. Despite the play's many themes, McBurney's focus is on the triumph of good over evil and the possibility of reconciliation and redemption through love and compassion. In an interview with the Telegraph's Sheila Johnston (1 March, 2012), McBurney spoke of the focus he wished to underscore in his production: "Pilate is forgiven. So the piece is partly, if not centrally, about compassion. That seems to be a very urgent idea at the moment." Hungarian director Kornl Mundrucz is also interested in the possibility of reconciliation in his adaptation of South African author J.M. Coetzee's novel Disgrace, but his treatment of the issues facing post-apartheid South Africa and today's Hungary seems to conclude that differences and opposing views are not likely to be reconciled even if compromise is attempted. The opening scene of his reimagining of Disgrace was one of the most realistic and frighteningly violent scenes that I have ever experienced in the theatre. Lucy, the daughter of the novel's protagonist Professor David Lurie, is quietly sleeping on her sofa in a ramshackle farmhouse somewhere in South Africa when the front door is bashed in and three wild men, wearing what look like crazy Halloween wigs made of kinky black hair (to indicate that they are black even though they are played by white actors), gangrape her. Mundrucz spares us no details. Lucy is beaten and penetrated by all three as the audience looks on in horror. Played by Orsi Tth with her blond hair cropped like a boy's and her pencil thin body more androgynous than female, she is the image of victimization and vulnerability. Smeared with blood, sperm and feces, she stands before us naked, covering her eyes as the rapists take off. As if it weren't enough that we are subjected to this brutal scene, a flm version of Kornl Mundrucz's adaptation of J.M. Coetzee's novel Disgrace. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 24 the same scene is played later in the show, to make sure, perhaps, that we do not forget the ever-present possibility that the white and black populations of post-Apartheid South Africa have not yet come to terms with their anger. Lucy's father soon shows up. He has been dismissed from his post as professor of literature for having had sexual relations with one of his students, and he now seeks refuge in his daughter's house. Shortly after his daughter's rape scene, he calmly reenacts his seduction of his student Melanie. While their sex is not violent like the daughter's rape and the girl is somewhat willing, it is clearly a professor interested only in self-gratifcation who takes advantage of his student and as such another example of abuse of power and the reason for Lurie's disgrace. Mundrucz's set is overfowing with objects and people. Lucy's cluttered living area is center stage rear. Stage left a shabby living room with a bath tub in the middle of the foor. Stage front is a long "box" flled with dark rich earth. This is the garden tended by Petrus, a black man who will marry Lucy in order to protect her from further violence. And on stage right we glimpse an animal shelter where veterinarian Bev Shaw euthanizes the dogs that are roaming freely around the countryside. Dogs play a major role in this show. We constantly hear them barking; we see them dead or in cages. They even join in the songs that accompany some of the action. And in the fnal scene of the play the actors put on dog skins and become dogs baying and barking at the audience, pleading, perhaps with the audience, to help them. There is even a strange scene in which Bev breaks the fourth wall and tries to auction off her dog Mishka to anyone in the audience who might be interested. "Only four dollars," she pleads. Mishka is a very real and adorable little dog, and the chance to save just one of the many strays appealed to more than one audience member. At least one of these "beasts abandoned by the white population" would be accepted by society. In other gentler, kinder scenes, a garden of roses is planted by Petrus, Lucy, Melanie, and others, each one delicately placing his or her rose in the dark earth and then watering them. Perhaps beauty will win out over the atrocities we've witnessed. Even David fnds a modicum of peace helping Bev with the dogs yet even though he bonds with Mishka, he Disgrace. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 25 agrees to euthanize her. Lucy who is pregnant as a result of her rape, decides to keep the baby, marry Petrus, and stay on their farm. Her baby will be multi-racial and her marriage multi-racial as well. This choice may indicate hope for the future of South Africa, but in truth she will be forced to live next to the very men who assaulted her. This cannot be an easy compromise. "This is a generation that wants retribution," in the words of Steven Cohen, speaking at his press conference about the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. From actors portraying dogs to no actors at all, this was the kind of leap made often in the sixty- sixth festival. With 33 tours et quelques secondes ("33 RPMS and a Few Seconds"), for example, a semi-documentary piece created by Rabih Mrou and Lina Saneh from Lebanon, audiences got the chance to watch an entire play without a single live fesh and blood presence on the stage. Instead, there is a set composed of a desk, some chairs, a telephone, an answering machine, and computer, a TV set, and an old-fashioned record player. The show begins with Jacques Brel singing Le dermier repas on a 33 rpm record that started playing on its own. Brel's song about his desire to spend his last meal with his friends and his cats, and his need to deny the existence of God and attack the middle class one last time, introduces the ostensible subject of the play, the suicide of a young Lebanese militant who had fought for human rights during the Arab Spring. The phone rings and we hear "Laissez un message s'il vous plat. Please leave a message." A woman's voice is heard. She's clearly anxious to see her friend and says she will call back. A Facebook page appears on a screen behind the desk. It is dated 1 October, 2011, and it belongs to Diyaa Yamout. There is no photo. Messages from some of Diyaa's 3,543 friends begin to scroll down his wall at the same time that text messages from a Palestinian friend appear periodically on the screen. She is on her way from London to see him and wants to keep him abreast of the diffculties she's running into en route to Beirut. Suddenly a posting announces that Diyaa is dead. Another that he committed suicide. Then we learn that the young man (28 years old) took his life in a public place and that he flmed his own death. Thus begins a fascinating stream of moral, political, and religious opinions about Diyaa's suicide. Friends mourn his loss, others approve of his choice, still others wish him well, but quite a few are outraged. They condemn him for this blasphemous act and question his right to take his own life. Beyond his Facebook page, TV anchors report still other reactions and musings on why Diyaa ended his life. Even his parents are interviewed along with a psychoanalyst. Still in shock, they say that his mission in life was to defend human rights and he devoted his life to non-violence. Perhaps he committed suicide because he felt that his goals could not be reached in contemporary Lebanese Rabih Mrou 's 33 tours et quelques secondes. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 26 society. Finally a posthumous letter is uncovered. In it, he writes that his decision was not politically motivated and that because he wasn't able to fnd any freedom in this world, he decided to look for it in non-existence. Interestingly, it seems that Diyaa Yamout never existed. There is no record of him even though he is still on Facebook (even I am a friend). 33 tours not only questions the shifting borders between documentary and fction, it achieves a fascinating dramatization of how social networking can create discord and even lead to the possibility of creating an uprising in a deeply intolerant society. In contrast to this experiment of a theater without actors, Christophe Honor's La Facult, directed by ric Vigner and performed by the third- year acting students from his International Acadmie of the CDDB-Thtre in Lorient (Brittany), is a rather conventional play with a clear plot and recognizable characters, but its disturbing subject matterthe brutal murder of a young Arab boy and Honor's ability to capture the edgy life style and raw language of a group of young people, some from the housing projects, some of them students at the university, make this play well worth a visit. La Facult was written by Honor in 2010 for the acting students in Vigner's International Acadmie. This year there were seven young French actors from Mali, Morocco, and Israel, and foreign actors from Korea, Germany, Rumania, and Belgium who have learned to speak French. They are "the world's youth" in the words of ric Vigner. The story concerns Ahmed, a gay Moroccan schoolboy, who like the other characters in the play is looking for love and connection among the students and hangers-on in and around a university campus. The cast includes three brothers, Kevin, Yoann, and Jrmy who is gay, and their friends, their single mother Madame Lefamair, who is a powerful fgure determined to protect her children at all costs, drug dealers, and a gay professor who takes advantage of his position to have sex with whomever he wants, mainly Jrmy. They live in a world flled with abuse and cruelty. The Avignon production of La Facult was held in a new space, an open-air courtyard of the Lyce Mistral where classroom buildings and walkways provide an ideal background for a play about the erotic encounters between students, drug dealers, and a professor. Vigner covered the spacious grounds with a fne white sand that transformed the "set" into an impressive snow-covered terrain once the lights were dimmed. You could almost feel the bitter cold even though it was a hot Avignon evening. The play which is more melodrama than contemporary tragedy, centers on the tale of Ahmed, a Moroccan schoolboy, who is bludgeoned to death Christophe Honor's La Facult, directed by ric Vigner. Photo: ric Vigner. 27 with a motorcycle helmet by an older student, a murder witnessed by others. It is a horrible scene. Although we do not actually see the gruesome murder in any detail, we are shown the lifeless body lying in the snow. Jrmy who had had one sexual encounter with Ahmed and was probably falling in love with him, is heartbroken. Others, his brothers especiallythey are the murderersare no doubt relieved to have him out of the way. The police decide that Ahmed's murder was a botched drug deal. Others think that he was killed for homophobic reasons. Others because of his race, and still others because he lived his life freely and without shame. Nobody knows for sure, but Jrmy's brothers are suspected of committing the crime. A fnal scene, played in a heightened expressionistic style, the actress who plays Madame Lefamair could almost become a heroine of Greek tragedy. Faced with the possibility that her son Jrmy will denounce his brothers to the police, she eloquently pleads with him to remain loyal to his family. When he refuses, she banishes him and threatens to kill him if he ever comes near her again. Steven Cohen's Title Withheld (For Legal and Ethical Reasons), a one-man performance/ installation piece, was one of the hottest tickets in the festival. Only forty-three ticket holders were allowed into a cramped space underneath the Popes' Palace twice daily to attend this fascinating and unsettling show. Steven Cohen is a performer originally from South African who now lives in France. He frequently speaks of himself as a Jew, a homosexual, and a white South African whose grandparents escaped from the Holocaust and settled in South Africa only to exchange one system of discrimination for another. As a result, he grew up with feeling guilty about being a racist, a Jew who escaped from the Holocaust, and not being heterosexual, and his performance work is always about confronting these different parts of himself. Title Withheld, his latest piece, was inspired by Cohen's discovery of a diary in a fea market in La Rochelle in 2004. The document, written by a young French Jew between 1939 and 1942, contains 1,000 miniature drawings and 1,000 entries that describe daily life in France as the massive arrests of French Jews by the Nazis was approaching. Cohen was fascinated by the diary. He had it translated and spent several years trying to fnd traces of the young man's family so that he could get permission to use the material in a performance. He fnally achieved his goal but only for part of the diary, and this only Steven Cohen's Title Withheld. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 28 a short while before he began creating the piece for Avignon. Hence the name of his show. To reach Cohen's performance, one had to climb up a steep incline at the back of the Popes' Palace, and duck one's head to avoid the low stone ceiling of the cave-like space under the stage where The Master and Margarita had played. Moreover, the only seating was a very narrow, very uncomfortable stone ledge. Not knowing what to expect from such an unusual theatre experience, the audience waited in the dim light, fnally realizing that we were surrounded by live rats running along in transparent plastic tubing behind and later in front of us. This was creepy but not really threatening. More waiting and then the realization that something was happening on a video screen far over to the right of the long space. It looked like a fgure lying on its back, enclosed in stone walls. There are legs and a penis, and what looks like a head. The fgure slowly begins to get up and stands before us. He is tall and very thin, almost skeletal. His head is bald and his face is pale but for the sparkles, fake eyelashes, and long whiskers coming out of his mouth which is painted a deep purple or maybe black. He is naked except for a corset around his middle. On his feet are a pair of remarkable metal platform shoes, weighing about ffteen pounds each. How will he ever walk with them? He makes his way slowly and what appears to be painfully, using long poles to keep his balance. Lifting one leg and then another, he attempts a clumsy pli and falls, gets up and moves on across the uneven stones. When he reaches a central structure, he manages to raise his legs so that we can see the bottom of his shoes. The drawings, writings and dates of the young Jew's diary are displayed there via images on an ipad. We can barely see what is there but we sense that these must be the "hidden things" that Cohen spoke of in his press conference. They are not for us to see or read. In contrast, porn videos on a large screen show a good looking woman pleasuring herself with "weird" creatures (Cohen's word), a snake in one and a fsh in another. These are quite funny whereas the flms showing Marshal Ptain and Hitler speaking or haranguing large crowds are not. Nelson Mandela, on the other hand, provides a sense of promise and hope as we watch him speak to a crowd on his release from prison. Cohen has said that Title Withheld is not fnished. "I will start to make the work after it's opened," he told the press. I can only imagine what he plans to do to make this amazing piece any more extraordinary. Arthur Nauzyciel's much anticipated interpretation of Chekhov's Seagull, La Mouette, in the Cour d'Honneur of the Popes' Palace, played to mixed reviews. The entire four hours unfold in a nocturnal landscape with the familiar characters dressed in black tie and elegant long evening dresses, and frequently wearing white seagull, full-head masks. These masks created by Erhard Stiefel, with their orange beaks and beady eyes, provided the only bright note in this otherwise rather gloomy setting. Even the ground was made of dark-colored gravel on which the actors had to walk in their bare feet, and Title Withheld. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 29 the set, composed of a large metallic mound and a long, high metallic wall, as gorgeous as these pieces were, enveloped a cast of phantom-like fgures who dance rather than walk through Chekhov's tale of unrequited love. As the audience of 2,000 took their seats, a short 1897 black and white flm by Louis Lumire, entitled Arrive d'un train la Ciotat (Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat) shows a train pulling into the station and women in long dresses and men in straw hats walking around the platform, was projected repeatedly on the metallic wall, no doubt setting the scene for the arrival of Chekhov's characters before making their way to Arkadina's brother's country estate. Strangely Nauzyciel's Seagull opens with Treplev's suicide followed by his mother Arkadina's appearance (with seagull mask) reciting the words that Nina normally speaks in Chekhov's play "I am a seagull. No that's not it. I am an actress." She is joined by the other characters who are also wearing seagull masks. They gather around Treplev's body, kneel down, and lift him up, and begin carrying him off. Before they reach their destination, however, they put the body down and begin a sort of danced funeral procession, slowly swaying back and forth as they move forwardmourning the death of an artist who believed he could make a change in the theatre with his new experimental forms in art. By placing this scene at the beginning of his Seagull, Nauzyciel seems doubtful, that even today, experiments in theatre will not prevail over more conventional, popular entertainment. Following this rather odd beginning, Nauzyciel returns to Chekhov's play. It is time for Nina's performance of Treplev's new experimental play. There is a brief moment between Nina and Treplev: He declares his love for her and she responds with a friendly kiss. The contrast between Treplev who seems weary and is bent over (he is wearing a hunched-back jacket) and the lovely, vibrant Nina is visually striking. The much-awaited play is about to begin. Nina appears on top of the metallic mound, a dazzling fgure of modernity with her short cropped hair and modern see-through pants outft (her black bra and panties are quite fetching). She delivers Treplev's lines clearly not understanding their meaning. Later she tells Treplev that his words are unreadable and that she does not understand the symbol of the seagull. Actually none of the guests do except for Dr. Dorn, who later tells Konstantine that he has talent and must be patient. But Treplev is too depressed to believe in himself. Like Masha he Anton Chekhov's The Segull, directed by Arthur Nauzyciel. Photo: Courtesy of the Avignon Festival. 30 is in mourning for his life as are so many of the other characters. They are all seagulls sitting on top of the metallic mound, cold and empty and unable to fy. Nauzyciel's Seagull was a haunting dance that was beautiful to watch but Chekhov's characters got lost in the dark. Jean Vilar took great risks in 1947 when he decided to present three plays in Avignon that had never before been seen in France (Shakespeare's Richard II, Paul Claudel's Tobie et Sara, and La Terrasse de Midi, a new work by an unknown young playwright, Maurice Clavel). There was no guarantee that there would be an audience or funding for these plays or that there would be a second festival. Sixty-six years later, his festival is a huge success. With 135,800 tickets sold and an attendance rate of ninety-three percent this year's festival, with its program of new artistic forms and contemporary subject matter, open to as many people as possible, clearly paid tribute to Vilar's legacy. 31 This summer I had the good fortune of attending an academic conference in Nicosia, Cyprus at the very time that the Sixteenth International Festival of Ancient Greek Drama was getting underway. Sponsored by the Cypriot National Theatre (Cyprus Theatre Organization), the festival offered eight productions from fve different countries, all of which were performed at classic amphitheaters located throughout the small island country. The balance of this review will focus on a pair of productions that were textual compilations pertaining to the myth of the House of Atreus: The Cyprus Theatre Organization's (CTO) Electra and Orestes, the Trial, and the Hessian State Theatre of Wiesbaden's Agamemnon's Children. Serving as the national theatre of Cyprus since 1971, the CTO production of Electra and Orestes, the Trial was adapted from Aeschylus' The Libation Bearers and The Eumenides, the respective Electras penned by Sophocles and Euripides, as well as the latter's Orestes. This compilation of tragedies was both written and directed by Hanan Snir, a guest artist from the Israeli National Theatre, whose production of Antigone was positively received by CTO audiences in 2008. Snir's cast of twenty- eight consisted of the principal actors and a chorus of women who played roles ranging from libation bearing peasants to Aeschylus' infamous furies, which were presented as AK-47 toting terrorists bedecked in black robes and hijabs. Snir's choice to use the furies to locate the generational feud of the House of Atreus in a contemporary context was inspired by his own experience living in the war-torn Middle East: "From where I come from, there are three to four generations of hostility between Israel and the Palestinians. You can't end a confict with another war. The only way to end it is by compromise, with a great superpower like Athena, or the UN, saying, 'No More! Lay your weapons down! You must compromise!'" (Hanan Snir, interview with author, 5 July 2012) Snir sees Athena as a "moderate" who counters the extremist positions of Apollo and the furies. His production was therefore somewhat sympathetic to Orestes and Electra, with the former being acquitted of matricideyet banished from Argosby a jury of twelve audience members who were randomly selected at the outset of the performance. The jury was invited to sit in the front row, and after the trial scene's respective arguments, they flled out their ballots and placed them in a box to be counted in real time, thereby ostensibly determining the drama's outcome. Snir admitted, however, that the verdict was a contrivance to create the appearance of a metatheatrical decision that decided one of two possible outcomes; in fact, his production followed the same plotline as Euripides' Orestes, with the antihero being reprieved. Nonetheless, the exoneration seemed justifed, given the powerful appeals for forgiveness made by Electra (Lea Maleni) and Orestes (Nektarios Theodorou), both of whom aroused the audience's empathy, as their lines were effectively underscored by a chamber orchestra of stringed instruments positioned stage left. The scene was as thrilling as it was cathartic. The performance took place in a refurbished amphitheater located in Nicosia on a starlit July evening. The minimalist set design consisted of a few pieces and props (e.g., a small tent; a plurality of oil barrels; a large wooden table; an assortment of burlap sacks), all of which were used to suggest location changes. The setting's signature feature was a stunning stairway that sloped down the skene and provided an offstage entrance for Athena and Apollo. The costumes and lighting were understated, thereby privileging the production's acoustic elements, most especially its poetic language and musical underscoring. The acting company was visible throughout, with most of the cast seated in chairs arranged along the semicircular stage to face the playing area; the actors created entrances and exits to and from their seats as needed, a convention that worked rather well at fulflling Snir's self-described attempt to add a "Brechtian" motif to his otherwise empathic and emotionally charged production. If the spoken word and musical underscoring was the production's joint focus, the acting company and musicians did their jobs bringing it to life. This fact was apparent throughout the performance from its two-character scenes, such as the chillingly vindictive exchange between Electra and Orestes after having murdered Clytemnestra, an act that was The Sixteenth International Festival of Ancient Greek Drama in Cyprus, July 2012 Peter Zazzali 32 Hanan Snir's The Trial. Photo: Courtesy of the International Festival of Ancient Greek Drama. 33 committed offstage in accordance with the protocol of the ancients, to the production's numerous choral offerings. Snir's use of the chorus was particularly effective in its undaunted theatricality and attention to ritual. For example, he chose to enact the burial of Agamemnon by having a tribe of suppliants convey their homage by rhythmically pouring out his ashes from buckets as they chanted their ode while the musicians punctuated their speaking. His staging of the event was a visually engaging blend of processional lines and refned dance, an array of highly choreographed movement that was very much in support of the scene's elegiac tone. Scenes such as this one consistently kept the ritualistic sounds and storyline of this compilation of classic texts present to the audience, a feat made all the more powerful when considering the performance site was over two thousand years old. The following evening I travelled to the city of Paphos to see another festival offering that centered on the Atreus myth: the Hessian State Theatre of Wiesbaden's Agamemnon's Children. Performed on Paphos' ancient Odeon stage, the piece was adapted from Euripides' Orestes and his pair of Iphigenia tragedies, as well as Sophocles' Electra. The synthesis of these texts was intended to provide the audience with multiple points of view regarding the Atreus narrative, most especially the perspectives of Orestes, Electra, and Iphigenia regarding the murderous events involving their family. While the compilation of these ancient texts seemed like an intriguing way to stage the myth, the production fell fat on numerous levels. The set and costumes were at best unremarkable, and oftentimes an outright eyesore. Agamemnon was attired in a sweat-stained khaki shirt, for instance, with matching shorts and boots, and he had a white towel constantly draped around his neck, which, in addition to being an odd costume choice for a mythic warrior, was never used. The other male characters did not fare any better, with Menelaus bedecked in a gray tee shirt, a trench coat, khaki pants, and Converse sneakers; Pylades wore a blue tee shirt, gray pants, and an oversized jacket; Orestes was in gray pants and donned a tank top. Their drab appearance matched their pedestrian performancesthe actor portraying Agamemnon performed half the show with his hands in his pockets. Although the women's costumes were a bit more colorful and interesting, the overall look The Hessian State Theatre's Agamemnon's Children. Photo: Hessian State Theatre. 34 to the production was blas. The setting, such as it was, consisted of oddities like a pommel horse, bunk beds, and various illustrations inscribed on the wooden skene, all of which had no thematic connection in support of an identifable vision. Indeed, Agamemnon's Children was a confusing mess. The most glaring visual faux pas was the choice to trap Orestes in a web of orange colored hoses and tubing at the outset of the adaptation's fnal installment, otherwise known as Euripides' Orestes. The title character spent at least ten minutes largely hidden from view as he attempted to speak his text from beneath this industrial heap. Obviously, the play's language was of little importance to the production's director, Konstanze Lauterbach. To add to this reductive affair, Michael von Bennigsen's (Orestes) fellow actors were forced to play the entire scene on their knees, as he occasionally popped his head from out of what can best be described as scenic junk. Even after Bennigsen freed himself from the hoses and tubing, the clump remained downstage center for the remainder of the performance, thereby challenging the audience with yet another disconcerted distraction. It is unfortunate that a compilation of three timeless masterpieces should be reduced to a level of such visionless direction and pedestrian playing. The fact that the Paphos Odeonan amphitheater built in the second century A.D.was the site for this debacle only added to the audience's disappointment. The spectators were clearly bored, confused, and appeared to be generally tired after enduring Agamemnon's Children, a work that aimlessly lumbered on for two and a half hours without an intermission. Whereas the Cyprus Theatre Organization's treatment of the Atreus myth was performed with ritualistic beauty and imagination, the German offering was its artistic opposite, a reduction of the grandeur of myth to a dull and oftentimes confusing mess. Odeon Theatre with Paphos Lighthouse. Photo: Joe Fox. 35 Space Opera Solaris and Revolutionary Andrea Chnier in Bregenz Watching the fascinating stage opticals of Detlev Glanert's Solarisbased on Stanislaw Lem's space fantasy of 1961, written when Poland was under the seemingly unending domination of the Soviet Union, I thought that American audiences might well be intrigued by the visuals, as well as by the oddly developed narrative. But would his unusual musical formulations appeal to opera elitists, more accustomed to the lilting melodies of Puccini or the thunder blasts of Wagner? Years ago, Christa Ludwig and Walter Berry worried about learning the diffcult music and librettos of new operas for the Salzburg Festival, only to discover that the costly productions would not move to the Wiener Staatsoper. Solaris is not, as yet, on its way to Vienna, but it will soon be seen in Berlin, at the late Walther Felsenstein's always innovative Komische Oper! Perhaps the embattled New York City Operanow properly ensconced in the historic Opera House of the Brooklyn Academy of Musicwill be able to bring Solaris to America? Lem's Solaris has earned a worldwide audience, not only of sci-f buffs. It has been flmed at least twice: frst, in the then Soviet Union, in 1968, for TV. Later, in 1972, Andrei Tarkovsky's version won the Special Grand Prix at the Cannes Festival. Then, in 2002, Steven Soderbergh flmed Solaris with George Clooney. The plot of Solaris involves the space fight of Kris Kelvin (the baffed Dietrich Henschel) to investigate what may be going wrong on a space station, originally intended to observe the curious planet Solaris. A plasma ocean covers this distant planet and this orb not only emits sounds, but even words. It can also read the minds of those aboard the space station, eventually absorbing them into its mysterious mass. The station's chief doctor (Martin Winkler) is conducting bizarre experiments that have already resulted in alien forms, such as an overstuffed black woman (Bonita Hyman in a fat suit), a malevolent old lady (Christiane Oertel), and a much abused dwarf (Mirka Wagner). Kirk's mentor has committed suicide, his body being kept in a deep freeze, and his beloved wife, Harey (Marie Arnet), who committed suicide some fourteen years ago, is The Bregenz, Munich, and Bayreuth Festivals Glenn Loney Detlev Glanert's opera of Stanislaw Lem's Solaris. Photo: Courtesy of Bregenz Festival. 36 recreated by Solaris in two versions, both made of Luftstoff. Kirk falls in love, all over again, with both entities. But he feels he fnally has to destroy the Harey apparitions. In his transformative agonies, he calls out for a Spiegel (a mirror) because he fnally has come to understand that we do not need to be rocketing around in space to study other planets; we really need to take a closer look at ourselves! We do not actually get to see the sea of plasma on Solaris, but we do see its effects, refected on the pristine white, post-modernist chambers of the space station, designed by Christian Fenouillat. Solaris can also be heard moaning, singing, and chanting, thanks to the Prague Philharmonic Choir. Reinhard Palm provided the libretto text, with short, even choppy dialogue exchanges. Glanert's score effectually musicalizes the conversations, without creating any sweeping symphonic texture. The staging was devised by Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier, with Markus Stenz valiantly conducting the Wiener Symphoniker. Later in the festival season, Detlev Glanert premiered another relatively new work: Nijinsky's Tagebuchbased on actual diary entries. This was premiered in 2008 in Aachen. Both staged and choreographed by Rosamund Gilmorewith a setting of white suitcases and trunks, shuffed around among six players, against a black background Vaslav Nijinsky's often mad ravings while on tour with Sergei Diaghilev's Ballets Russes achieved a mad life of their own. What dazzled Stefan Ender, the music critic for Vienna's leading newspaper, Der Standard, was the way in which all the performerswhether primarily actors, dancers, or singerswere able to dance, act, and sing in permutations and variations of such Nijinsky ragings as: "Ich bin Gott!"(I'm God!) Or "Ich mach Kack" (I make shit). This Chamber Opera and this Bregenz Production should be seen in New York and beyond. Detlev Glanert, born in 1960, has been givenwith some fourteen works of Musiktheatermore productions than any other contemporary German Composer! Andrea Chnier Returns to the Lake Stage on the Bodensee! Once again, the great head of the murdered Marat was swarming with platoons of revolting French revolutionaries: singers, chorus, aerialists, dancers, and supers on the Bregenz Festival's lake Detlev Glanert's Nijinskij's Tagebuch. Photo: Courtesy of the Bregenz Festival. 37 stage. This was the second year of Keith Warner's astonishing staging of Umberto Giordano's opera about one of the victims of the French revolution, Andr Chnier. Revolutions almost always eat their children, with the American Revolution, perhaps, a fortunate exception. Designer David Fielding's decision to make the head of Maratstabbed in his bath by Charlotte Cordaythe centerpiece of this spread-out staging was scenically dazzling, but almost counter-intuitive, as Marat has no role in the opera. Considering the varied beauties of and emotional crises in Giordano's solos, duets, and choruses, Chnier is a work that would be much more powerful on a small stage, whether proscenium or thrust. On the wide, wide, wide Bregenz lake stagewith spotlights on major charactersone often doesn't know where to look to see who is actually singing. Next summer's Magic Flute will have to be amazing to top this production! Admirable were the Chnier of Hctor Sandoval, the Grard of John Lundgren, the Maddalena of Tatiana Serjan, and the other important roles played and sung by Rosalind Plowright, Krysty Swann, Tobias Hchler, and David Stout. Ulf Schirmer conducted the Vienna Symphony deep in the bowels of the lake stage, visible from time to time on video monitors on both sides of the 7,000 seat bleachers. Post-Post-Modern Wagner in Munich The Ring: Das Rheingold There once was a time when every Opera House and City Theatre in West Germany had to have its very own productions of Richard Wagner's Ring Cycle in its repertory. Even then, back in the 1950s, there weren't enough Wagnerian Heldentenre to go around, not to mention memorable Brnnhildes. Today, the casting problems are even worse, as opera houses around the world have to have their own Rings. In 2012unlike at Manhattan's Met, with its disastrously clanking Robert Lepage Ringthe Bavarian State Opera is fortunate to have assembled an outstanding cast for its new Ring. Unlike Bayreuthwhere each new Ring has to premiere four operas in sequence in the opening weekin Munich, it has been possible to unveil them one at a time, beginning back in February, with Das Rheingold. What that meant, however, was that Siegfried and Die Gtterdmmerung did not complete the new cycle until this past summer. Thus I was only able to see the frst two operas in the Cycle, so great was the demandnot only from major music critics, but also from perfect Wagnerites to see the entire Ring. Even with some memorable scenic moments in the unusual staging of Andreas Kriegenburg, there were some peculiar decisions that worked against both the text and the score. Umberto Giordano's Andrea Chnier. Photo: Courtesy of Bregenz Festival. 38 Finally, these do not really matter so very much, for the splendid Staatsoper orchestraunder the magisterial baton of maestro and general music director Kent Naganomakes Wagner's score truly soar. The brilliant voices and mimetic talents of the outstanding cast are even more effective in bringing this ancient Nordic myth to a kind of super human life. What was, for me, even more rivetingly effective was watching and listening to the actors- singers, while also reading Wagner's German texts, projected above the stage picture. Yes, of course, we know what happens; we know, more or less, what Wotan, Loge, and Fafner are singing. But few in the audienceincluding the criticshave the libretto completely memorized. So, to see the actual German words of Wagner's poetic texts projected above the action gives new meaning and immediacy to the humanity of the mythic. Projected English or French supertitles do not work quite the same way as Wagner's own unique germanisms, with his fondness for alliterations of consonants in short, sharp, single-syllable words: often with a string of G G G Gs. These have a peculiar power, especially when barked out in ecstasy or agony. Although Wotanthe excellent Johan Reuteris still the Valhalla-building God-Father, it is the wickedly seductive red-suited fre god, Loge, (Stefan Margita) who is the real star of this new Rheingold. He knowingly helps bring the gods forward to their doom: Wotan is not at all a golden-parachute-deserving CEO! Also admirable in character and performance are the Fricka of Sophie Koch, the Alberich of Wolfgang Koch, and the Fafner of Phillip Ens. Decades ago at Bayreuth, the late Gtz Friedrich was the frst Regisseur to stage a Wagner overture. Traditionally, the great gray curtain remained closed, as the audience gradually drifted into the leitmotived world of Tristan or Tannhuser. Friedrich changed all that, although his actors- singers didn't have any text to act or to sing during the overtures. Andreas Kriegenburg has exceeded Gtz: He even stages imaginary no-music, no-text action before the overture even begins. Wagner might not have been amused. When the audience enters the lavishly neo-Baroque auditorium of the National Theater, a gaggle of white-clad young people seem to be having a picnic outing on stage. Then they shed their gym clothes and smear blue paint all over their effectively naked bodies. I thought at frst of old Saxon warriors, covering their bodies with Wode, but no: When all these supers or extras lay down on the stage and began to ripple and surge, it was clear that they were the waves of the Richard Wagner's Das Rheingold. Photo: Courtesy of the Bavarian State Opera. 39 river Rhine. In the midst of which the three Rhein maidens suddenly appeared to tease and taunt the sex-starved Niebelung, Alberich. Silly girls! That's just the way to lose your precious Rheingold! Unwise Wotan, meanwhile, has contracted the giants, Fafner and Fasolt, to construct Valhalla not only as an impregnable home for the gods, but also as a kind of army reserve armory for dead heroes who will defend the gods when push comes to shove. Kriegenburg's Valhalla visual is a simple projection of a dentellated line, such as a child might draw in a Montessori school. Actually, Kriegenburg's stage space is, in effect, Peter Brook's fabled empty space. It is a giant white box, whose foor can slant upward, with its ceiling sloping downward. He and his scenic designer, Harald B. Thorwho sounds like a worthy inmate of Valhallaeven favor projected texts on the slanted foor, to help the narrative along. Understandably demanding payment for their construction work, the giants appear before the gods, sitting atop great cubes of what appear to be compressed Rhine ripple people. At frst, Fafner and Fasolt seem just ordinary men, but soon great cloaks on poleslike Japanese Bunraku puppets cover their ordinary bodies, making them seem immense. Then, immense legs and feet are added: an overwhelming effect! Wotan, of course, cannot pay, so the giants demand Fricka's sister, Freia, as a hostage, until Wotan produces the cash! Lacking Freia's golden appleswhich keep the gods ever youngthey rapidly age, resulting in some rather tiresome acting on the vast, empty stage. Loge leads Wotan down into the fame-enriched environs of Niebelheim, where an upstage panorama of dwarf slave drudges drags along at upper-middle height. When one of them falters, he is unceremoniously dumped into a rectangular slotone on each side of the stagewhere a burst of real fames indicates instant cremation. Open fames on stage can be very tricky to manage, but Kriegenburg even has Alberich use the Tarnhelm to transform himself into a very long, faming snake, born aloft by real fames! (In Die Walkre, the burning serpent even becomes the Ring of Magic Fire which in Wotan imprisons the disobedient Brnnhilde.) The Tarnhelm transformations are achieved by having supersequipped with banks of blinding headlightsturn them full force on the audience. The laughingly malicious Loge and the cash-hungry Wotan could give lessons to US Army interrogators in Guantanamo and Abu-Ghraib! They run Wotan's spear up Alberich's right sleeve, inside the back of his coat, and out the left sleeve. He is virtually crucifed, as they brutally push and pull him about. Das Rheingold. Photo: Courtesy of the Bavarian State Opera. 40 Later, the insidious fre god gives Fafner a small knife, with which he kills his bumbling brother Fasolt. The forfeited Rheingold rises from the center of the white box stage like a metal-framed palette of Fort Knoxian gold ingots. But, as in so many post- modernist Ring productions, there is no rainbow bridge. Die Walkre When Wotan meets with Brnnhilde (the excellent Irne Theorin) for a briefng about his wife problems with Frickagoddess of heterosexual non-incestuous marriagehe understandably favors his earthly son, Siegmund, who is doomed. In what may be his sparsely furnished offce, upstage is a long, long genre painting that looks at frst like one of those Wagnerian landscapes, but the trees in this strange forest have feet and even fantastic faces. When it is time for Siegmund (Klaus Florian Vogt) to take shelter in the tree-flled home of his mortal enemy, Hunding (Ain Anger), an immense tree rises out of the foor, virtually engulfng the stage. In its webby branches are spiked some ten desiccated dead bodies. At either side of the wide, wide stage are modern kitchen counters that look like Sieglinde (the affecting Anja Kampe) is operating a vegan snack bar. In the background, behind the great tree, are two teams of corpse washers. Possibly, they are preparing Hunding's recent kills for spiking up in the tree branches? A big feature of any Hunding's Htte (hut) setting must be the hilt of Wotan's invincible sword, Nothung, impaled by Siegmund's father into the heart of the tree. In this production, it calls attention to itself, looking like a huge electric switch, in a blue illuminated slot. (As part of a number of accompanying Ring art installations and art actions, there is a replica of Nothung on a great white catafalque in one of the elegant Ludwigian chambers of the grand foyer. But the name engraved on the front of the catafalque is NOTHING.) Although Siegmund is an outcast and his long-lost sister, Sieglinde, has been abducted and forced into a cruel, slavish marriage to Hunding, they soon recognize each other. Butinstead of rushing across the stage into each other's armsKriegenburg keeps them far apart, virtually at opposite sides of the stage. This is surely intended to increase the sexual tension, before the incestuous lovers come resoundingly together. Nonetheless, the visual effect is immensely annoying: When Sieglinde offers Siegmund a drinkinstead of her simply bringing it directly to hima corps of white-clad young women is enlisted to pass it across the stage, the glass of Richard Wagner's Die Walkre. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 41 water being lit from below by tiny fashlights, concealed in their palms! As for the fabled Ride of the Valkyries, in the most recent Bayreuth version, Wagnerian rock-climbers rappelled down a cliff face. In Francesca Zambello's San Francisco Ring, they dropped down with parachutes! Some years ago in Munich, when Valhalla was a space ship, the Valkyries zoomed aboard on rocket scooters! For this new Kriegenburgian Ring, however, the horsey ladies pulled and tugged on long reins that were tethered to metal posts, supporting defnitely dead warriors, folded over the posts like so many department store dummies. No use at all to Wotan in defending Valhalla. In the background, a bevy of sexy young women kept swishing their unbound hair around and around. The projected text mentioned the Wunschmdchen that the dead heroes would enjoy in Valhalla, so I thought they must be these promised lust maidens, rather like the seventy virgins awarded to devout dead Muslim jihadis. But no: The frantic hair swishing apparently represented the manes of the Valkyries' valiant steeds, about which they sing at length in Wagner's projected supertitles. Apparently, in these desperate economic timeswhen so many are unemployedstage director Kriegenburg is providing meaningful work for platoons of supers. When Wotan encircles his favorite daughter with magic fre, it is ceremonially placed around her, in the form of Alberich's faming snake, by another corps of white-clad young women. Nordic vestal virgins? Or vegan vestal virgins? La Cenerentola Looking at the handsome production of Rossini's La Cenerentolaor Cinderellain the National Theater, I remembered what my old friend, Jean- Pierre Ponnelle, once told me about this comic opera for kids of all ages: "Glenn, this is a perfect Rossini machine!" What I had forgotten was that Ponnelle had himself designed and directed this production! So I must have seen this delightful show years and years ago on this very stage! Initially, Ponnelle began working in opera as a set and costume designer. Butfrustrated by stage directors who didn't know how to use his artistic visions effectivelyhe decided he needed to do the stagings himself. What Ponnelle soon discovered, however, was that his sets and costumes were too fussy, too busy. They actually detracted from the effect he wished to produce on stage. "They distracted the audience's attention from the performers and from the development of the narrative. As a stage Die Walkre. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 42 designer, I had been attempting to call attention to myself, rather than to serve the total production." Soon after that epiphany, Ponnelle had the ingenious Pet Halmen begin designing his new productions. But in mid-June, at the Bavarian State Opera, I had forgotten how I once loved this staging, thinking instead that it was far too complicated. In fact, when some of the mugging and romping overkill of Ponnelle's replicated staging became too obvious and juvenile, I even welcomed the Baroque complications of Ponnelle's ruined palazzo setting as a distraction from the hi-jinx flling the stage. Now, at this remove from the performance aesthetics of yesteryearcrowd pleasing that apparently still works in MunichI'd rather have Jean-Pierre's settings as a Toy Theatre, than as a framework for monumental mugging. Unfortunately, that excellent soprano, Joyce DiDonato, was not feeling well and so begged the audience's indulgence, soldiering on as Cinderella. As often happens, she saved her voice for the big moments, improving as the libretto progressed. But Rossini's genius was not in creating through composed musical narratives. Instead, La Cenerentola is a series of charmingeven virtuosicset-pieces: solos, duets, trios, sextets, and choruses, all lustily rendered by the able Staatsoper ensemble. Outstanding was the Dandini of Nikolay Borchevthe Kammerdiener of the Prince, pretending to be the Prince himself, to expose and shame the ugly stepsisters: Eri Nakamura and Paola Gardina. The award-winning young American tenor, Lawrence Brownlee, was the Prince. Antonello Allemandi briskly conducted the frisky Staatsoper orchestra. La Bohme When Jean-Pierre Ponnelle designed and directed his stunningly innovative La Bohme for the Kleines Haus of the Salzburg Festival many years ago, its central scenic prop was a giant stove. Ponnelle's idea was to visually dramatize how very cold the quartet of Bohemian Parisian artists were feeling in their miserable garret. This really worked. For the Metropolitan Opera production, Franco Zeffrelli designed equally cramped quarters, but, as the Met's stage is enormous, Franco showed this attic surrounded by the roofs of Paris, seemingly stretching for kilometers. But both director and designers made the quartet's quarters look somehow interesting, which is not the case with Munich's now ancient production. (I regret to have to say this, as the faded and shabby settings were long ago designed by the late Rudolf Heinrich, who was a longtime mentor to me in matters of opera design and stage technology.) One of the most recent Bohemian garrets La Cenerentola. Photo: Courtesy of the Bavarian State Opera. 43 of worthy memory was that of the New York City Operanow struggling to survivein which Marcello, the painter, was warming the space by splashing vibrant color all over the walls, as he depicted the Israelites crossing the Red Sea, with Pharaoh and his armies being engulfed. Even worse in Munich was the potentially dynamic scene at Caf Momus, where the four friendswith the tubercular Mimi, now deeply in love with Rodolfo, the poetgo to celebrate. As originally staged by Otto Schenk and unfortunately replicated even now, it is all on one level, with a variety of street parades and activities all crowded together, in what seems to be the most cramped intersection of all nineteenth- century Paris. Franco Zeffrelli's magnifcent Met staging is bustling with life on several levels: A fascinating, colorful Parisian slice of life. What absolutely saved the Munich Festival presentation of this tired, old staging was the heartbreaking performance of Angela Gheorghiu as Mimi, strongly supported by the passionate Rodolfo of Joseph Calleja. Laura Tatulescu's fighty Musetta was also a plus, supported by Levente Molnr's Marcello. Israel's multi-talented Dan Ettinger conducted. He is also no stranger to the orchestra pits of the Met and Covent Garden! Tosca Unfortunately for the ghost of Giacomo Pucciniwere it hovering over the stages of both the Met and MunichVerismo is not much honored in Luc Bondy's deliberately sterile vision of Tosca. At the turn of the centurynineteenth into the twentieth, that isnaturalism and realism were replacing romanticism and historicism. David Belasco's "realism"in both Madame Butterfy and Girl of the Golden Westfascinated Puccini, yielding both Madame Butterfy and La Fanciulla del West. In setting the doomed love of Floria Tosca with Mario Cavaradossi to music, Puccini was intent on visually evoking showy scenes, notably the great Church of Santa Maria dell' Valle, an elegant salon in Rome's Palazzo Farnese, and the summit of the Castel San Angelo, with its great looming angel. Bondy's designerwho also designed Patrice Chreau's 1976 Bayreuth Ringis the minimalist Richard/Riccardo Peduzzi. Forget about great papal pomp in a grand procession up the central aisle of the mural infested nave of Santa Maria. This bare brick- walled space looks either unfnished or abandoned. The villainous Baron Scarpia conducts his military interrogations in a post-post-modernist void that would shame the enhancements of Guantanamo or Abu Ghraib. There are no signs of waterboarding, but Dick Cheney was not an advisor on this production, seen frst at the Met, before Munich. As for the execution of Cavaradossiin the desolate nothingness of the current stagingeven in Puccini's original libretto it seems unlikely that Tosca and Mario would have so much time to themselves Giacomo Puccini's La Bohme. Photo: Courtesy of the Munich Festival. 44 before the actual fring squad goes to work. Franco Zeffrelli's magnifcent Met productionnow replaced with this onegot all this verismo lavishly right. What certainly saves Munich's festival Tosca is the passionately effective Floria Tosca of the magnifcent Catherine Naglestad. The evilly conniving Bryn Terfel makes a frightening foil for her desperate attempts to save the Mario of Massimo Giordano. Marco Armiliato conducted as though he meant it. Mitridate, R di Ponto Admirers of Peter Shaffer's Amadeus are well aware of young Wolfgang Mozart's efforts to please his demanding father, the Salzburg Archbishop's Court Composer and Music Master, Leopold Mozart. Stage director David Bsch has constructed his fascinating Prinzregententheater production of Mitridate around this tortured father- son relationship. Butalthough the nominal historic era of this Italianate Musikdrama is verging on the Christian erathe visualization is rather like a children's horror story. This is thanks to the genius of the stage design and to the ingenious projections of Patrick Bannwart. The stage at frst seems like a black inverted bowl, on which a frustrated child is trying to fnd ways to sketch out his troubling visions. Comical white outline characters march across the black upstage. Even roughly drafted white slogans appear. The Mitridate program repeats such images and devices, notably with roughly drafted white words from Leopold's cautionary letters to young Amadeus. Based on a tragedy by Jean Racine, Mitridate's libretto juxtaposes two sonsSifare and Farnacerivals for the approval and (non-existent) affection of their war lusty father, Mitridate. Imperial Rome threatens his Pontian Kingdom, even as his countertenor son, Farnace, is making a deal with a sneaky Roman intermediary. A false report arrives of the King's death: Who will seize his throne? Who will get to marry Aspasia, his designated second wife, now seemingly available to either Sifare or Farnace? Can you imagine a dad who would pretend to be dead, just to test the loyalty of his sons? Well, that's the way royal dads used to be in neoclassical French tragedies, based on historic lore and legend. But with the soaring celestial music of the fourteen-year- old Wolfgang Amadeusthis tragic tale takes on a new dimension of coloratura hi-jinx entirely. Nixing the idea of a neoclassical performance milieu, however, Bsch and Bannwart have set the story on Giacomo Puccini's Tosca. Photo: Courtesy of the Munich Festival. 45 the beach, where soaring seagulls are dropping rich guano all over the stage, including the musicians in the Staatsoper Orchestra! There are even two stuffed seagulls standing watch in the auditorium! But the real glory of this visually arresting production is the magnifcent singing of the equally magnifcent cast: notably countertenor Lawrence Zazzo, whose muscular acting as Farnace also amazes. Outstanding also is the noble Sifare of Tara Erraught, dressed as a schoolboy, but ardent for the hand, heart, and body of the woman who should be his stepmother, Aspasiapassionately sung and acted by Anja-Nina Bahrmann. As a somewhat rejected bride for Farnace, the Ismene of Lisette Oropesa was both vocally and visually impressive, considering the rough handling she has to endure. Barry Banks was the aging and imperious father, Mitridate. Although Conductor Mark Wiggelsworth and his consummate cast gave Amadeus his due, this partitur goes on for much too long. People were leaving well before it was fnally clear that Ponto was doomed. Oberammergau and The Passionsspieltheater: Antonius und Cleopatra Like the Bayreuth Festivalwhich was resumed after World War II, only in 1951the internationally famed Oberammergau passion play was not shown again post-war until 1950. But this was not really a break in the tradition, for the citizens of Oberammergau only stage this epic music drama every decade. Spared from the disastrous spread of the black plague through the Bavarian alps, the villagers vowed to perform the Passion of the Christ every ten years. I was teaching in Oberammergauat the US Army Intelligence Schoolin the late 1950s, so my frst experience of the Passionsspiele was in 1960, when it was still eight hours long. I have since returneddecadallyin 1970, 1980, 1990, 2000, and 2010. But, in the years between performances of Christ's Passion, the only thing for tourists to see is the vast empty stage and the dressing rooms, with the elaborate costumes displayed on hangars and wardrobe racks. This seemed a great loss: not using the great stage for some kind of performance that might be in tune with the semi-sacred character of this unusual venue. Now, Christian Stckla native son, as no outsider can be in or work on the Passionspielehas staged there this summer William Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra. Stckl staged the Passion Play in 2000 and 2010 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Mitriade, R di Ponto. Photo: Courtesy of the Prinzregententheater. 46 with such success that he was soon invited to restage Max Reinhardt's famed Jedermann at the Salzburg Festival. The Passion Play stage is, of course, no stranger to death. But Jesus was crucifed, while Antonius and Cleopatra both committed suicide! Nonetheless, both these historic narratives share an Augustan time frame with Caesarian-Palestinian- Egyptian locales. Considering how complicated and massively peopled the production was, it was surprising that it had only seven performances in July and August of 2012. The Passionspiele stageas devised and modernized over the decadesis very, very wide, with a central proscenium stage, used for presenting tableux vivants of famous scenes from the Old and the New Testaments. Major biblical events like Adam and Eve driven from Paradise, or Joshua fghting the battle of Jericho: Good Book narratives that can be reduced to a single image, although posed in 3-D. On either side are arcades and fights of steps that permit various triumphal entriesJesus's fatal entry into Jerusalem, riding on an ass, for instance as well as crowd scenes and choral ecstasies. For Anthony and Cleopatra, stage director Christian Stckl and his Oberammergauer designer, Stefan Hageneier, painted the whole faade brick-red, suggesting the military and territorial passions which have caused the then rulers of the world to meet for an ultimately disastrous shipboard get-together, which will destroy Pompey, Lepidus, and Anthony, along with his inamorata, Cleopatra. To consolidate his Roman power, Julius Caesar's nephew, Octavius one of the three ruling triumvirsgives his beloved sister Octavia to be wife to Antony. This is really not going to workas the man who would later call himself Caesar Augustus well knowsbecause Antony already has a wife, the rebellious Fulvia, as well as a full-time love in Egypt. Even Antony realizes his Nile infatuation is a fatal infection: "These strong Egyptian fetters I must break/Or lose myself in dotage." For the current production, the central stage doesn't offer tableaux. Instead, it houses a black pyramid, fanked by black palm trees. Cascading down a fight of stairs in front of it is a mass of black matter, with a black fountain in its center. At either side are two more black palm trees, which tend to shake uneasily when Cleopatra leans on them. Because there are so many Roman soldiers trooping around the stage, this could be a remake of the Passion Play, only without Jesus, Pontius Pilate, and all those rabbis in funny hats! The Kleopatra (German spelling) of Barbara Dobner was indeed sexy, imperious, Markus Zwink's Anthony and Cleopatra. Photo: Courtesy of the Oberammergau Festival. 47 sinuous, willful, and passionate. Her Antonius, Andreas Richter, was a hunk! The cold blooded and calculating Octavius/Octavian of Frederik Mayet was a dangerous foe, but Antony did not seem to realize what was at stake until it was too late. Several directorial choices in Stckl's staging seemed odd: Why should the supposedly powerful commander the triumvir Lepidusbe played like some kind of arm-fapping, garment-swishing old crazy? Why, if Octavius loved his sister so much, did he strike her to the ground, in front of the troops, when Antony had effectively rejected her? Why did Stckl have a chorus of Egyptian maidens parade across the stage in profle, putting their arms and hands out in one of those old vaudeville routines? There were no supertitleseither in German or in Englishbut this was not much of a problem, as all the speeches and choruses were clearly and often passionately delivered. Oberammergauer Markus Zwink provided the score, as he has done for the Passion Play and the Salzburg Jedermann. Mardian, Cleopatra's eunuch, was played with extreme effeminacy by Martin Schuster. The Flying Dutchman, in Bayreuth The big news in Bayreuthpossibly also worldwide, especially for those who are always on the lookout for Hackenkreuzerwas that the Russian basso who should have sung the role of the doomed Flying Dutchman had a swastika tattooed on his chest! In the new staging of Richard Wagner's Der fiegende Hollnder, the Dutchman does not have to have his shirt off, so who would have known that the unfortunate Evgeny Nikitin had a Hackenkreuz inked onto his chest as the German newspapers so feverishly reported. What no one seemed to have taken into account was that Nikitin is a Russian, not some German Neo-Nazi. In fact, as a young Russian rebelin a hard-rock punk bandthe more bizarre tattoos the better! Today, some say, he has so many tangled tattoos that it's hard to see where that old American Indian and Asian good luck symbol really is, underneath all that ink. Nikitin has already sung successfully at the Met and at Covent Garden, so Bayreuth's loss was also the loss of everyone who had one of the very scarce tickets for Jan Philipp Gloger's new production. But the even bigger news in Bayreuth this summer was the stunning confrontation of the Wagner Festival with its anti-Semitic past. Ranged along the upper terraces where Arno Breker's bronze head of the master holds sway were more than a score of gray panels with the photos and often fatal histories of Jewish artists who had either worked at Bayreuth or been banished from the semi-sacred Festpielhaus. These indictments of infamy were continued in the Bayreuth Rathaus, in the center of the city. It is well known that Richard Wagner nourished a deep resentment of such successful Jewish composers as Giacomo Meyerbeer, who, he believed, had slighted him when he frst came to Paris. In his infamous essay, "The Jews in Music," he even accused Jewish composers, librettists, and musicians of being copycats, incapable of creating anything worthwhile on their own. Nonetheless, both on the Grner Hgel the Green Hill, where the Festspielhaus is sitedas well as at table in Haus Wahnfried, the Wagners were surrounded and supported by adoring Jewish talents such as conductor Hermann Levi, who did all they could to advance the cause of Wagner's revolutionary Musiktheater. From information on the gray panels, it is clear that Wagner's muse and wife, Cosima Wagner, once the master was gone, was passionately infamed against Jews performing in any capacity in the festival. Cosima was the illegitimate daughter of Hungary's brilliant pianist and composer Franz Liszt, so she should hardly have been the frst to cast stones at others. What is also distressing from the panel information is to learn that the great Richard Strauss was also a rabid anti-Semite. What Strauss said of the much beloved Lilli Lehmann was unbelievably vicious. Cosima Wagner was not the last of the Bayreuth Wagners to be a frmly committed anti- Semite. Her English daughter-in-law, Winifred Wagnerwho took over the festival when both Cosima and her son Siegfried died in 1930, on the eve of the festival seasoncontinued this offensive tradition. When the Bayreuth Festival was fnally revived, post-World War II, in 1951 by Wagner's grandsons, Wieland and Wolfgang neither was interested in confronting the festival's past Nazi patronage nor its residual anti-Semitism. Winifred's greatest complaint about the post-war usage of the Festspielhaus was that American occupation offcers had used it as a cabaret. The frst furry of interest in confronting anti-Semitism in the festival past came from Wolfgang Wagner's own son, Gottfried Wagner, and this was not well received by Wolfgang. Still, forcing the festival to recognize its anti-Semitic past soon became Gottfried's consuming passion. Apparently the tension still remains. When I attempted to interview Gottfried's sister, Eva Wagner-Pasquier, 48 two summers ago, she told me that talking about Gottfried was off-limits. Once upon a time, the vast Bayreuth stage was flled with the multi-masted, full-sailed ship of Daland, a Norwegian captain, out for fsh and whatever the nets might bring up. When the cursed ship of the Flying Dutchman hove into sight, the stage was crowded with sails and song. Not so in the new Bayreuth Fliegende Hollnder: Daland and his Steuermann are discovered down right in a small row boat. Behind them looms an immense grid of zooming beams, endlessly running long numbers, and fashing matrixes. This is a Silicon Valley sci- f fantasy on speed. Forget about that doomed red- sailed ship. The damned and doomed Dutchman gives himself a huge injection in his left arm, after which, he can enjoy the services of a black-clad lady, who is about to go down on him when he strips off her long black coat, revealing Victoria's Secret-style undies. The treasure he shows Dalandhoping to interest him in encouraging his daughter, Senta, to marry him to end the curseis enclosed in one of those carry-on cases with retractable handles. When the Dutchman opened the case to spill out some of the treasure, it looked to mefrom way up in row twenty-twovery much like glowing cell phones. As things soon developed, however, Daland's crew was not engaged in Norwegian fshing expeditions. The smartly attired work force was eagerly involved in the production, packing, and marketing of smart sleek white electric table fans. This is what has become of Senta's traditional Spinnstube: The girls are all factory workers, busily packing scores of fans into corrugated-cardboard cartons. Senta, however, isn't paying good attention to the tasks at hand: She has made a kind of orange-and-brown Dutchman image out of a carton. A cardboard dream lover? She has also fashioned some rows of fowers and tongues of fame from the cartons. At one point, I thought that all of the crew were equipped with iPads or Airbooks, but no: they were fourishing what must have been either fan plans or marketing goals. In fact, the Steuermann was leading the pack, waving a ledger in the air. Then a huge outline of the model of the fan dropped down from above, only to go up in fames. It would have been more topically amusing, however, had Richard Wagner's Der fiegende Hollnder. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 49 designers Christof Hetzer and Karin Jud opted for a Google-infected/Microsofted futurist vision. In the end, Sentato be united with the long suffering Dutchmanstabs herself: The Dutchman instantly bleeds as well. At the fnal curtain, the auditorium was resounding with boos, not for the gifted performers, but for the bizarre production. Although having no swastika tattoo, Samuel Youn valiantly assumed the role of the Dutchman. Daland (Franz-Josef Selig) looked and acted a lot like Nathan Lane which might give Peter Gelb over at the Met a good idea for future casting. As Senta, that wonderful singing actress Adrianne Pieczonka performed all the nonsense that stage director Gloger had devised for her: brave trouper! The handsome and charismatic and much admired Christian Thielemann conducted the best opera orchestra and the best opera chorus in the world on the world's frst really modern stage, inspirationally devised by the master, Richard Wagner, with its famous covered orchestra pit. You don't see them playing. You don't see Thielemann conducting. But the swell of orchestral sound surging up over the stage, to mingle with the voices of the singers is still unique. Wagner for Children: Die Meistersinger as a Chalk Talk Richard Wagner's Die Meistersinger is his only comic opera, unless, of course, you want to include some of the more bizarre Wagner productions both at the Met and at Bayreuth. Fun- crammed and jolly melody-packed as Meistersinger is, however, it does run on and on. Wagnerat least in terms of modern attention spansneeds an editor, especially if you are trying to get kids interested in opera! You do not have to suffer from attention defciency syndrome to fnd the love troubles of David and Lena and Walther and Eva a bit ho-hum now and then. Fortunately, Hartmut Keil and Eva- Maria Weiss have found the solution. Their edited version runs only an hour and ffteen minutes. But all the good stuff is there. All the big scenes. All the memorable moments musicaux. Deft excisions from the score have been made by Marko Zdralek, with no perceptible loss of the greatest hits, such as Walther's prize song. The work is performed mornings in a rehearsal hall, with kids, parents, teachers, and even the occasional critic packed into bleachers, with the orchestra and playing area in front of them. As the overture bubbles up, small kids with large chalks cover blackboards all over the place with Montessori-style cartoons of historic Nuremberg houses and even hotels. Walther von Stolzing, the knight who wants to become a Meistersingerbecause that's the only way he'll get to marry Eva, the beautiful daughter of the Meistersinger in Chiefarrives on a bicycle with a horse's head on the handlebars. All the colorful costumes, especially the distinctive wigs and hats: How about scallions growing out of the top of one's head? Immediately identify and typify each character. During the fnal trial for best prize song this year in Nurembergthe winner gets Eva as frst prizethe most important Meistersinger sit among the kids in the audience. The kids went crazy! Hartmut Keil conducted the Brandenburg State Orchestra with a great sense of fun but also with musical excellence. The lively staging was the inspiration of Eva-Maria Weiss. Heiko Brner was a lusty Walther, with Christiane Kohl a lovely Eva. The fatherly poet-shoemaker, Hans Sachs, was sweetly embodied by Jukka Rasilainen. Even the miserable Grinch, Sixtus Beckmesser, was amusing in the interpretation of Ralf Lukas. Two summers ago, the same team offered a really off-beat Tannhuser, which turned out to be a search for the pink famingo. Forget about the Holy Grail. Venus was Lady Gaga on a skateboard! Art Installation Setting for Tannhuser! When I was being very distressed at the throw-in-the-kitchen-sink staging of the 2011 Bayreuth production of Richard Wagner's Tannhuser, a German critic asked me not to blame Katharina Wagner for what we were seeing up there on that historic stage. She pointed out what I already should have remembered: That opera stars, star stage directors, and famed star conductors have to be contracted years in advance. So the extremely cluttered stage picture of the new Tannhuser was really the fault of her late father, Wolfgang Wagner? Well, not exactly: Wagner had contracted the stage directoror Regisseurnot the designer the director later selected. Despite the magisterial conducting of Christian Thielemannonce considered as a possible Intendant for the Bayreuth Festivalthe real star of Sebastian Baumgarten's strange staging of Tannhuser is the giant shit-powered machine of Joep van Lieshout. This monstrosity began life as an art installation and perhaps that's what it should have remained. As such, it would always have been welcome in Manhattan at either MoMA or the New- Museum. Torsten Kerl impersonates Tannhuser 50 in the current Bayreuth vision of the singers battle on the Wartburg. Among the luminaries in this cast are Michelle Breedt as the sexy Venus and Camilla Nylund as the good girl, Elizabeth. Actually, Venus isn't supposed to be such a bad sort, after allat least in this production, where she is said to be reborn as a kind of pre-Christian Earth Goddess, bringing fertility to the land and to the people: Tannhuser not really included. Unfortunately for the substance of those press reports, what one actually saw on the Festspielhaus stage was a Venusberg that rose out of the stage foor like a round cage, with Tannhuser inside, being pleasured by what looked like left-over hippies. In fact, from their anthropoid crouchings, they looked more like lesser apes, picking feas off Tannhuser's chest and groin. Everyone was drinking from orange-red steinsthe color seems to be the visual theme of this stagingbut they were not really having a good time. As for Tannhuser as a Wagnerian Heldentenor, Kerl is anything but heroic: In fact, he is lumpy, bulky, and pudgy. If Elizabeth really, really loves him, she'd get him off the beer and bratwurst, beginning a regimen of yoga and yoghurt. Elizabeth's Uncle Hermannthe chief honcho in medieval Thuringiais embodied and envoiced by Gnther Groissbck, with Michael Nagy as Wolfram von Eschenbach, more worthy of Elizabeth's hand than his friend Tannhuser. When Tannhuser fresh from the Venusbergencounters the Landgraf and his merry men out on a hunt, they look like blanket-covered asylum-seekers from the former DDR, in fact, where Thuringen was located. Curiously, when Wolfram begins his big song, he's using notes, which he discards one by one. This recalls Sixtus Beckmesser's stolen Lied in Die Meistersinger. Lothar Odinius relives Minnesinger history as Walther von der Vogelweide. No matter how wonderfully the Bayreuth chorus and orchestra performed, the appearance of the chorus on stage was somewhat compromised by their roles as orange- red-clad factory workers, stoking that giant bio-gas machine. I failed to bring my camera, but everyone around mecritics includedwas photographing that monstrous setting, which was exposed to the public when they entered the theatre and when they left. The curtain never closed: except when it was fnally time to go home. Thus, at the close of act 2, the chorus was singing "Deutschland, Deutschland" as we fled out for drinks and refreshments. The stage frame was made of huge squared wooden beams, three levels high. The ground level Richard Wagner's Die Meistersinger. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 51 seemed three stories high itself. Upstage was a long orange-red gas cylinder, with seven stainless steel hatches on top, one for every day of the week. This was clearly labeled: ALKOHALATOR. It may well have been powered by human excrement as advertisedbut it seemed fed by bags full of cabbages and rutabagas. Behind the main frame was a video screen, so thateven as the audience entered the auditoriuman endless loop of grainy, grade C flm school footage was showing what seemed to be badly diseased lungs, alternating with hand bones, aborted fetuses, and bifurcating rice grainsor were they plague bacilli? This video was followed by an endless video plume of what may have been intended to be methane. The video screen was never at rest: Elizabeth appeared recumbent, in a kind of kitschy nimbus. In fact, nothing, nowhere, ever seemed to be at rest. The stage picture was a constant clutter: Too much of essentially no interest, happening everywhere. Downstage right and left were what seemed to be paying audience members, in more or less fancy dress. Above, on the second level, was what looked like the factory cafeteria. On the third level, there were bunks where exhausted workers could restor possibly abuse themselves, when they had tired of abusing the audience. As for that famed Sngerkrieg on the Wartburg, this staging made it seem more like an afternoon break time entertainment. but not anything as serious as auditions for American Idol. When Wagner's famed Pilgrims Chorus frst appeared, going to Rome on their knees, the gray-clad wretches looked like left-over rats from the Lohengrin production of the previous evening. But when they came back from the Eternal City, they were no longer gray pilgrims, but factory workers, who looked as though they'd just returned from the company sauna. Both stage director Sebastian Baumgarten and art installation magus Joep van Lieshout seem infatuated with the concept of projecting sententious arty- politico mottoes on various segments of the giant set, such as ART COMES FROM THE PEOPLE. That's not been true for a very long time: Volkslieder have long been eclipsed by popular songs, many of whichat least in the USAoriginated on Tin Pan Alley. As for such folk arts as woodcarving, the best work in Oberammergau could have been turned out by computer programmed carving machines. One "Virgin and Child" looks very much like another. When it was fnally time for Elizabeth to give up on Tannhuser, Wolfram shut her up in a big blue bio-gas cylinder. One of the projections announced Richard Wagner's Tannhuser. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 52 that the art installation production design was a metaphor. But for what? Lohengrin: Don't Get Bitten by the Rats! At the closing curtain of the great Bayreuther Festpiel on the 2 August 2012 performance of Lohengrin, the audience went wild. As each performer came out from the slit in the curtain, feet began to stamp in unison on the resonant fooring, like the thunder of drums. Nowhere more so than for each appearance of the handsome and remarkable Klaus Florian Vogt, whose Lohengrin had almost literally blown them away. The brilliant Annette Dasch was almost equally applauded for her much abused Elsa von Brabant, who is frst seen with arrows piercing her breast and back. The torrents of applause brought the spectators to their feet en masse, programs dropping thunderously to the foor. Then began what used to be called the iron clapa rhythmic slapping of hands that echoed out into the corridors and even out into the night beyond. The enraptured audience simply would not leave! But then, stage director Hans Neuenfels had previously decreed that there would be no applause after either act 1 or act 2, when the audience was already bursting with pent up cheers. Andris Nelsons, who conducted with both subtlety and pomp where needed, was roundly applauded as well. In this odd rat-ridden Neuenfels staging, King Henrywho has come with his army, to borrow Brabant's own army for one of those Medieval warsseems to be badly stricken with the falling sickness. He staggers about a great deal, often herded around by giant black rats who seem to be fugitives from a badly failed lab experiment. When Lohengrin is next newly staged at Bayreuth, would it be possible for Katharina Wagner to have the enchanted swanoften seen as a swan boat, bearing Parsifal's son, Lohengrin, from the magical realms of Mont Salvat or whereverbe a real Gottfried? In Wagner's libretto, of course, the Swan/Gottfried is really Elsa's enchanted brother. But there is also a real Bayreuth Wagner Gottfried: He is, in fact, the brother of Eva Wagner-Pasquier and the half-brother of Katharina Wagner. But he doesn't seem welcome on the Green Hill. Please, Wagner sisters: end this evil enchantment. As recycling is now such a social virtue, I'd like to replay some of what I wrote two summers ago, on frst seeing Hans Neunenfels's rat-infested staging of Lohengrin. The creature most often associated with Lohengrin is, of course, a swan, but this production is infested with a plague of rats. The powerless and hapless Elsa von Brabant Tannhuser. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 53 seemed surrounded by them. Even her nameless savior Lohengrin is buffeted about by ranks of black rats and even some giant white rats. There are also some red rats, and even a few small pink rats scampering about. Some opera critics suggested that these costumes and the entire production concept of director Hans Neuenfels might have been more appropriate to a show about the Pied Piper of Hamlen. I didn't get to see the premiere, so I missed the boos that Neuenfels reportedly harvested. Still the director may have missed them also, since at Bayreuth, director-designers usually leave town as soon as possible after the work is completedunless they were or are Wagners. Nonetheless, once I visually acclimated myself to the idea of rats on the borders of the river Scheldt, I found myself carried along with the fow. Especially now at Bayreuthbut also in many European opera housesaudiences have become so used to historicism in opera productions that they are often eager for something entirely different. From the boos, you might not think so, but thoseif you look round youseem to come largely from the tuxedoed and gowned old conservatives. Younger audiences are often delighted with new visions of old masterworks. It is interesting that few have tried to write new librettosor even craft new scores for such war horses as Lohengrin, Aida, or Tristan. Especially at Bayreuth, no one is yet going to tamper with the master's scores or his words, though the new visual librettos often have little to do with their original narrative and emotional content. In the new Bayreuth productiononce you have accepted the lab rat conceptthe major events of Wagner's libretto remain all in place. The obviously ingenious Reinhard von der Thannen he sounds almost like a Wagner characterhas set them in a pristine white lab, with large white portholes in its wall. These design elements change to suggest different locales, notably the bridal bed scene. When Elsa needs to be backed up by the ladies of her courtespecially for the famed "Wedding March"some of the rats slip out of their costumes to become charming young women, dressed in wide fringed hats and shiny pastel colored, perky dresses. Male rats don tuxedos, but their rat feet still show. The lady rats, however, have smart shoes. These split second costume changes are remarkable, but then they were worked out by the ingenious costume designeralso Reinhard von der Thannen. Although rats are visually more in evidence than swans, these elegant birds have not been Richard Wagner's Lohengrin. Photo: Courtesy of Bayreuth Festival. 54 removed to some other genetic lab. At one point, a plucked swan, with a neon halo, appears suspended over the stagethis could be a visual metaphor for what has happened to Wagner's libretto? There is also a sculpted white swan upstage, whose long neck can be moved back and forth, rather like one of those old fashioned waterpumps. Although Elsa is frst seen in a white quasi-uniform, later, when she is confronted by Ortrudwho is wearing a very wide long skirt of black swan feathersElsa is garbed in an almost mirror-image skirt, but of white swan feathers. Finally, at one point, a swan rises from the middle of the marriage bed. Almost every stage picture is striking, but none more so than when the banned, disgraced Telramund is discovered downstage in a broken black buggy, the front wheels missing and a dead black horse stretched out in front of him. My frst thought was of Murnau's Nosferatuthe undead racing against time, against the rising of the sun, with its fooding light. Considering that Katharina and Eva Wagner had never spoken to each other until they were confrmed as co-producers of the Bayreuth Festival, I continue to hope for a new Lohengrin, in which, at the close, instead of the swan, the disenchanted Gottfried at last appears. In the new Lohengrin, we don't get a living, breathing Gottfried at all. Instead, a huge swan's egg is revealed. It revolves, revealing a fetus-like creature inside, fouled with strands of umbilical cord. This newly born thing advances downstage, tearing off pieces of its cord- like sections of Bratwurst (sausage), throwing them into the troops. We regret two publishing errors in Professor Loney's last festival report which appeared in WES 23:3. The pictures of the Don Giovanni productions in Munich (page 58) and Salzburg (page 64) were inadvertently reversed. Also the fnal few lines of the essay were omitted. The correct version was " with Karl Rove as Mephisto! But this might not play so well across the Atlantic: Rove is not a generic Satan over there. How about Silvio Berlusconi as the devil?" 55 The second Ingmar Bergman International Theatre Festival took place in late May and early June at Stockholm's Royal Dramatic Theatre (Dramaten), and I am happy to report that it was a defnitive improvement over the frst outing, three years ago in 2009. As readers may recall when I wrote about it here in these same pages, the main problem with the festival's frst installment had to do with a decision by the organizers to feature performances that were somehow intrinsically linked to the work of Bergman. This decision translated into a preponderance of stage versions of Bergman's flmsa dubious aesthetic project for sure. At best, the results were perplexing but not uninteresting (Andreas Kriegenburg's From the Life of Marionettes) and at worst, disastrous (Ivo van Hove's Cries and Whispers). Curiously, the frst festival's standouts came late in the proceedings Patrice Chreau's La Douleur (based on Marguerite Duras) and Heiner Goebbel's Eraritjaritjakaand tellingly, they each had absolutely nothing to do with the late Swedish master. Now, in 2012, the festival seems to have learned from its mistakes. Except for one specifc instance (and more on that later), the programming featured virtually no connection with Bergman and his work, and for long stretches, one could easily forget the name attached to the festival, except for the fact that theatre-goers were spending consecutive nights within the fairly gorgeous Art Deco confnes of Dramaten, together with the fact that well-known Bergman actors could be seen off and on, hanging out or taking part in the discussionswhich was as fun as it was understandable. Here are a few highlights of the ten days. Opening night kicked off with another famous Swedish nameLars Nornwithout question, Sweden's most important contemporary playwright, no stranger to controversy, and translated and performed throughout Europe (although virtually unknown in America). The play in question was an earlier work, Demons (Demoner) dating to 1983, now performed in German translation by Berlin's celebrated Schaubhne and directed by famed director Thomas Ostermeier, the Schaubhne's The Ingmar Bergman International Theatre Festival Stan Schwartz Lars Norn's Demoner, directed by Thomas Ostermeier. Photo: Arno Declair. 56 Artistic Director since 1999 [see interview in this issue]. Ostermeier and his four superb actors (Cathlen Gawlich, Lars Eidinger, Eva Meckbach, and Tilman Strau) performed the minor miracle of turning a clearly lesser, second-tier Norn effort into an utterly riveting evening of theatre. The play itself falls neatly on the line connecting Strindberg and Albee (specifcally, Virginia Woolf) and concerns the freworks set off when a young dysfunctional and childless couple, Katerina and Frank, play host to another couple Jenna and Tomas, who live downstairs from them and who do have children. For two hours, all manner of sexual provocation, humiliations, and psychic violence ensue amidst a gorgeous glass and chrome and beige-colored apartment, i.e., the standard visual embodiment of the realm that was then called yuppiedom. Remember yuppiedom? That strange and mysterious place where comfortable characters with seemingly nothing to complain about still manage to expose their bleeding wounds and go at it with an unrelenting viciousness that borders on sociopathy. Mind you, there is no question that Demons must have had the impact of a bomb blast when it frst hit the stage in 1983. But in 2012, it simply doesn't do it anymore. In our jaded times, it fails to shock (which is not a great comment on our times, by the way). Simply reading the text, one would imagine a few hours of non-stop yelling in a structurally arbitrary way, whereby one fve-page passage could be transposed to a spot thirty pages later, and a later fve-page passage could be moved up, say, twenty pages, and there wouldn't be much difference to the play. It is a compliment of the highest order to Ostermeier and his team to say that Norn's text was here given remarkable (and quiet) nuance, structure, a great deal of humor, and a degree of psychological acuity that was simply fascinating to behold. One was not bored for an instant. A great deal of credit must also go to set designer Nina Wetzel (who also did the costumes) who placed the proceedings on a revolve which fuidly rotated for a good deal of the evening. Of course, a revolving set is one of the biggest clichs in the book, but the idea here was far different from a simple case of changing the scene. Through a meticulously planned and executed choreography, the actors moved around the multi-room environment as the revolve turned, constantly being caught in new angles, perspectives, and confgurations which always impacted at every moment exactly how they were playing the particular text at hand, and consequently, how they were interrelating to the other characters. This was sometimes accompanied by haunting music and a very judicious use of video projections, the total effect of which was a kind of deeply moving, melancholic poetry which is not at all obvious in the play itself. Amazingly, Ostermeier achieved the seemingly contradictory quality of being up-close and intimate at the same time as being distanced. One truly felt one was watching an intricately detailed sociological examination of human behavior as if it was being played out in some sort of laboratory. It was hypnoticyou couldn't look away. Next came the festival's one bow to Bergmanand it was huge, with a capital B. That was Dramaten's own production of Fanny and Alexander, adapted and directed by Stefan Larsson, based on Bergman's famous and much beloved 1984 fve-hour TV miniseries. As Bergman fans will recall, Fanny and Alexander focuses on the semi-autobiographical experiences of the young, precocious Alexander and his sister Fanny, who hail from a large, well-to-do, and boisterous theatre family. Their happy childhood is suddenly turned into a nightmare when their father dies and their mother remarries a stern and abusive Bishop. All is ultimately put right, however, thanks to Isak, the Jewish antiques dealer and old family friend, who, with the help of some Jewish mysticism in the flm's extraordinary fnal section, saves the children from their prison-like life with the Bishop. Oh, I wish I could say that the stage production measured up to the original masterpiece, but it did not. And really, how could it? As far as I can tell, this Fanny and Alexander represents an effort on Dramaten's part to cast aside any kind of elitist, crusty connotation the institution might have as a bastion of "classical" (i.e., serious and boring) theatre, and present instead fun, populist theatre which everyone can love and relate to. Certainly, this production has given Swedes a chance to witness, among other things, a large group of extremely famous (to them, at least) Dramaten actors live, all together on the same stage at one time, whom they rarely get to see live at all, and what's more, in a piece they already love and by this point know by heart. The concept seems to have worked: The production has already proven itself to be somewhat of a cash-cow for Dramaten, with extremely healthy box offce sales and various Swedish theatre groups being bused in from all over to see it. It is indeed theatre for the masses, and the masses seem to love it, given the standing ovations the production receives. Alas, some aesthetic price must be paid, and here, it is the somewhat shocking fact that much of Bergman's edge in the original is 57 nowhere to be found in this stage version. To put it bluntly, this is the Disney version of Fanny and Alexander. The actors play at a very broad, over-the-top level, bordering on boulevard comedy style. (For the record, Livia Millhagen is the mother, Reine Brynolfsson is the Bishop, and Marie Granzon is the grandmother who presides over the entire household). No doubt, they are probably enjoying this, as it is a style they don't get to play very often, given that it is the very opposite of the standard Dramaten (and Swedish in general) style of internalized and sharp, psychologically nuanced playing. The set design by Rufus Didwiszus is embarrassingly ugly and nearly minimalist, and is dominated byyou guessed ita revolve that is used in the most clunky and clichd way imaginable. (One wonders if the poor guy saw Ostermeier's Demons on the same stage just the night before?) Far more important than the set design (and to be fair, Mr. Didwiszus could not be expected to reproduce the flm's opulent household of Visconti-esque proportions) is the question of tone. The tone of this Fanny and Alexander is decidedly and unbearably sentimental and feel-good. Bergman made a point of keeping the joyous and deeply disturbing elements in the original in a perpetual and perfect balance, reminding us all that it was quite simply the point of the human condition to be constantly navigating between the two ever-present extremes. But in director Larsson's take, the moments of life's pointed nastiness are barely there to begin with (notwithstanding the famous scene where the Bishop whips Alexander, here staged in such a fat way as to barely register). One stunning example of this missing edge (but hardly the only one) is in the piece's fnal moments. Despite an ostensibly happy ending whereby the abusive stepfather is killed in a fre, in the flm's fnal moments, the stepfather's ghost suddenly appears and knocks little Alexander to the ground, an incredibly important detail showing how the boy will never be entirely over his childhood trauma. That moment is nowhere in this stage version. And as you would expect, the stage version cannot even begin to properly depict the flm's fnal mystical section which features Isak (Erland Josephson in the original flm, giving a legendary and heartbreaking performance, and here played by Hans Klinga), and his mysterious androgynous nephew Ismael (Ellen Jelinek) who magically helps Alexander will into being his stepfather's death. Isak's extraordinary six-minute monologue which basically sums up the entire Bergman philosophy on life and art, is also nowhere present, but then again, that remarkable speech (done by Josephson in the flm in a single take) also did not fnd its way into the truncated and vastly inferior three-hour theatrical release version of the flm. (I might add that the very sad passing of Erland Josephson just three months Ingmar Bergman's Fanny and Alexander, adapted and directed by Stefan Larsson. Photo: Sren Vilks. 58 before in February lingered heavily in the Dramaten air.) Come to think of it, you could say that this production is rather like the short version of the flm (which Bergman categorically disliked, and with very good reason); utterly conventional and for the most part devoid of the Bergman edge. Lithuanian director Oskaros Korunovas's Miranda was a fascinating affair. A co-production of the director's own theatre, Oskaro Korunovo Teatras OKT and the Vilnius City Theatre, the piece comprises a vivid and unsettling take on Shakespeare's The Tempest. Dainius Likeviius's ingenious and darkly claustrophobic set features a cramped and cluttered apartment somewhere in the Eastern Bloc world. The time setting is sometime perhaps in the 1950s or 1960s, but it is hard to tell. There is an older man (Povilas Budrys) who carefully and lovingly cares for his severely disabled daughter (Airida Gintautaite) who insists that her father read for her The Tempest. Over the course of an intermissionless 100 minutes, the father takes on various parts of the play while the daughter plays Miranda (a bit of Macbeth surfaces near the end). The actors are stunning, both in their pronounced physicality and their razor-sharp psychological impact. It is particularly harrowing to watch Gintautaite act out the extreme physical obstacles both in movement and in speech of what seems to be autism, all the while reciting Miranda's lines. We eventually get the impression that this is somewhat of a ritualfather and daughter have done this before, and this particular play functions as some sort of cathartic release for the daughter. Somewhat elaborate lighting effects and details of the apartment's clutter are put to terrifc and magical use in evoking the world of Shakespeare's play, but never does it come off as gimmicky. The performance is not without its shortcomings, however. The frst half is absolutely the stronger of the twomesmerizing reallyfor the simple reason that the focus is on a visceral and detailed portrait of a father caring for a severely disabled child and all that that entails, who just happen to be, at the same time, reading a Shakespeare play. But gradually over the course of the evening, this framework fades to the background and the piece becomes simply a production of The Tempest (albeit a highly unorthodox one). One can practically feel the richness and complexities lose their edge as we lose the framework. In retrospect, Miranda, Oskaros Korsunova's take on Shakespeare's The Tempest. Photo: D. Matvejevas. 59 it becomes clear that this evening should not be a production of Shakespeare's play. Rather, it should be about a father and daughter in a specifc and supremely diffcult circumstance who together read Shakespeare's play. The larger picture is what makes it so moving, and when that larger framework, thankfully, re-emerges in the play's fnal moments, we are left with a shivering sensation that makes for great theatre. I have always been suspicious of post- modern theatre's ongoing attempts to fuse theatre and flm (or more precisely, video). Call me old fashioned, but I frmly believe that each medium comprises a specifc and distinct language, and the kind of thrill each can illicit when done well is, likewise, experientially different. So when I heard that we were in store for a highly anticipated, highly hyped multi-media version of Strindberg's Miss Julie from the Schaubhne, I got worried. I am delighted to report that I have been convertedfor the time being. The theatre-video fusion can be done, as proven by the Schaubhne's poetic, evocative, and radiant Miss Julie, co-directed by Katie Mitchell and Leo Warner. In this case, the environment was everything. Dramaten itself wouldn't even suffce, so we all trekked out to the Globe Annex, a large industrial space used mainly for concerts, twenty minutes on the subway from central Stockholm. Upon entering, it was clear this would be a high- tech affair. Behind the audience was a long table, fairly overfowing with a prodigious amount of computer gadgetry and wires. In front of us, the set consisted of a main playing area, a hallway, a wall, and lots of cables. A large screen was visible at the top. Off to one side, another area was set up with tables flled with assembled odds and ends, where crew members would function as foley operators, creating live sound effects as the evening played out. On stage, as Strindberg's classic play unfolded recounting the tragedy of the aristocratic Julie, the servant Jean, and the maid Kristin, several company members with small digital cameras captured the performance, projecting it live on the large screen. The important point here is that the resulting video was not some MTV-ish, trendily low-tech piece, all jitters and bad lighting in the name of cutting edge art. Quite the contrary: The video we saw was utterly thought out in advance and polished, every shot perfectly framed and lit, every cut deliberate and precise. In order to fuidly capture the three actors to optimal effect from multiple angleslong shots, August Strindberg's Miss Julie, directed by Katie Mitchell and Leo Warner. Photo: Stephan Cummiskey. 60 evocative close ups, the whole gamutwithout colliding into each other, the camera operators (in dark clothes) and actors (in period costume) engaged in an incredibly complicated and precise choreography, moving in and out of playing areas, repositioning cameras, etc., without missing a beat. (Even Jean doubled as a camera man from time to time.) The resulting video was so polished, precise, and gorgeous, in fact, as to almost function (and I stress almost) as a stand-alone, fnished flm in its own right. Its style was quite particularquiet, somber, melancholic, sparse, and poetic: Miss Julie fltered through Bergman or Tarkovsky. But that's hardly an inappropriate flter for Strindberg's play. I'll take a quiet, melancholic Miss Julie over a loud, histrionic one any day. But the true achievement was that none of these pristine images nor elegant editing patterns was accomplished in post-production with Final Cut Pro, but rather, achieved live before our eyes as it played out over the course of eighty-fve minutes. As for the actors, they were sublime. The dramatic conceit of this Miss Julie was to tell the story from Kristin's point of view. Jule Bwe was utterly heartbreaking as we watched her eavesdropping on hushed conversations between Julie and Jean, all the while realizing her dream of a future with Jean was evaporating before her eyes. Tilman Strau's Jean was appropriately sexy and underplayed, and Luise Wolfram's Julie was likewise appropriately dysfunctional, but in a very quiet and intense way. All in all, this Miss Julie could be viewed as a kind of performance piece in which three superb actors and several camera operators danced an intricate, interrelated dance of death of consummate choreography, simultaneously creating both a live performance and video overlay which coalesced into a poetic vision of Strindberg's play that left you all tingly for days to come. I think both Ingmar Bergman the flm director and Ingmar Bergman the theatre director would have been quite pleased. 61 A research project recently led me frst to Amsterdam and then to Paris in January, and in both places I yielded to a strong tropism toward familiar names on the marquees. Stravinsky's The Nightingale and Other Fables in a staging by the ubiquitous and innovative Robert Lepage at The Netherlands Opera was one of the only theatrical offerings in the dead season of this theatrical capital, but as offerings go, that's not, as they say, too dusty. And among the far more plentiful options in Paris, I was drawn to see what the French would do with two of my favorite international playwrights, Norway's Lars Norn and Israel's Hanoch Levin. While the building of Het Muziektheater van Amsterdam is grand and welcoming, as befts a performing arts institution of a major city, the stage is rather awkward and seems more suited to oratorios and concerts rather than to a fully mounted opera. The instrumental ensemble, which is too large to occupy the pit, takes up most of the stage space, leaving only the pit itself and two wings surrounding it for stage action. But as is typical of one gifted with his advanced ingenuity, Lepage has made a virtue of the obstacles which would seem to limit him. The oriental setting of the operas encourage simplicity paired with virtuosity, and Lepage has opted for exquisite execution of set pieces on display in the open, generally unadorned space, which presents a contrast with the opulence which has marked his spectacles at the Metropolitan Opera such as The Ring Cycle and La Damnation de Faust, and thus made the most of the limited infrastructure. This performance is Lepage in miniature. The Other Fables part of the Stravinsky evening, which, like tantalizing hors d'oeuvres preceded the main course, consisted chiefy of the mini-opera, The Fox. For the Other Fables the conductor stands on an island placed amid the pit surrounded by the orchestra, while all dramatic action is limited to the small downstage wings. A detailed, realistic bonsai tree stands on one wing. A chorus of peasant girls hovers around the tree, while on the other side the operators of shadow puppets, male and female, create images which are Following Favorites Around Europe David Willinger Igor Stravinsky's The Nightingale and Other Fables, staged by Robert Lepage. Photo: Courtesy of the Netherland Opera. 62 thrown onto a central screen. The puppeteers warm up with modest characters, small animalsbirds and rabbitsbut eventually the puppet master goes behind the screen and these are followed by shadow images of large-scale horses. The entire display is conducted with mastery of the classical technique, and these simple images work their delight with child-like charm. Following an intermission, the orchestra and conductor are displaced upstage and the entire pit is now occupied by water for The Nightingale, the main course. The large chorus of singers is gloriously dressed in gorgeous classical Asian style, and the puppets are all resplendent and both fashioned and manipulated with consummate skill. A small junk sails across the water, and another returns in the contrary direction. They are propelled by the puppet masters/singers who stand over them in the water. The puppeteers sing on behalf of the puppet characters in the boats. Meanwhile, the lead female singer appears by the bonsai tree, which remains from the earlier portion of the evening, and seems to release a nightingale into the sky. It's a puppet on a stick, but has great mobility and is quite convincing in its verisimilitude to an actual bird. Her voice soars and twitters in perfect sync with the movement of the futtering animal. Then, the other principal characters of the fable appear in an elaborate state vessel, as the puppeteers lumber through the water in the other direction to sing for them. Three little other characters appear perched on the gnarled bough of the tree to sing. The royal characters in the barge trick the nightingale, which would prefer to stay out in nature, into going back with them to the palace, ostensibly to sing for the Emperor, but actually to serve it as a delectable meal. (This nefarious plan goes nowhere later in the action.) As the royal party with the nightingale in tow goes off, the great tree splits in parts, now serving as background for the following scene. A school of ducks scoots by on the water, as a witty surprise coda to this segment. The next segment begins with the crossing of a giant water dragon, followed by a swan, and then the Emperor himself on his throne. He is joined by envoys from Japan who ritualistically arrive on their boat. The nightingale, now a trophy fxture of the palace, regales the envoys with her song. Next a vast silver curtain is lifted from the water; the Emperor slumbers in his four-poster bed set in the water and is beset by large nightmarish creatures. The drapes of the four-poster fall away to reveal the bed as a gaunt skeleton embracing the monarch. Spirits arrive to remind him of his past misdeeds and torment him. The nightingale sings to the spirits urging them to spare the Emperor's life. The nightingale's eloquence on his behalf draws tears from the Emperor's eyes. The Nightingale and Other Fables. Photo: Courtesy of the Netherland Opera. 63 (Real) heads of people emerge from the water and foat around amid candles, also foating, as day breaks, leaving the audience with an uncanny dream image as the opera ends. This work is seldom performed. It could easily be billed as one primarily targeting a children's audience. Still, there were very few children in the audience, but the full house of adults and a few children expressed unbounded enthusiasm regardless. Nightingale has modest charms, notably a score that is more melodic than one would associate with Stravinsky, but all its charms are enhanced by the inventive production values and fully realized by Lepage and the skilled performers. The Thtre de la Colline in Paris specializes in an intellectually challenging and international repertoire that makes no concession to popular taste, yet their productions tend to the cerebral or repellant. I've had a schizophrenic relationship to Lars Norn, almost worshiping certain of his texts, particularly his family dramas, such as Night is Mother to the Day, brilliantly performed at Yale in 1984, and his Nachtwake (And Grant Us the Shadows) about Eugene O'Neill and his family which had been undertaken in a breathtaking rendition by the Belgian avant-garde company Blauwe Maandag in 1988 with Luk Perceval directing. These plays present corrosive to-the-death family relationships that break stylistic molds. I've also been disappointed by others, such as Froid (Cold in English, originally Kyla) a relentlessly banal one about disaffected juvenile delinquents that was performed at the Thtre National in Brussels. I was therefore quite let down when it became clear that Salle d'Attente (Waiting Room), the Norn piece I'd run to see at the Colline, was to be yet another naturalistic rendering of a group of homeless marginals bemoaning their pasts and lower-depths environment with desultory self-pitying whining. Norn, it seems, is drawn to this subject, but sadly incapable of fnding originality within it. What might succeed in lifting his subject out of the clich quagmire in which it wallows would be charismatic actors with sharp individuality and unpredictable innate life. The Colline production fails in this respect; none of the young actors bring any distinction or particular interest to bear on their Lars Norn's Salle d'Attente. Photo: Courtesy of the Thtre de la Colline. 64 characters; one can't help but imagine that an inter- racial group of young American actors would have had much more grit to bring to the table of this naturalistic work. Too bad! L'quipe du Menteur, a theatre company from Villefranche-sur-Sane in the provinces brought their production of Hanoch Levin's Souffrances de Job (generally translated from Hebrew into English as Job's Passion) to the Ateliers Berthier of Odon- Thtre de l'Europe in Paris. I'm a great admirer of the prolifc Israeli, Levin, whose works, since his death in 1994, have been seeing a steady popularity and interest both in Europe and America. So, eschewing the myriad renditions of Sacha Guitry, Molire, and Goldoni in the limited weekend time allotted to me, I hastened to have a look at how the French approached Levin's towering text (For full disclosure, I had myself directed this play in New York in 2009.). Job's Passion reworks the Old Testament allegory of Job, retaining the decimating, unremitting pain of the biblical hero's tale, and retaining also its allegorical nature. Without exactly modernizing or localizing the tale, Levin's stage version unwraps its enormous dramatic power through a series of unembarrassedly passionate scenes. In a sense Levin has reconfgured Job as an eternal tragic hero matching a Lear or Phaedre in stature and interest. The stripping away of worldly goods has a resonance for our international society, still reeling from the recent "economic downturn" that saw so many homes foreclosed, pensions dried up, and stocks plummet. The newly minted "classic" calls for brio acting to justify and compensate for the searing agony of Job. The play starts at a party of wealthy people Job has invited and before whom he desires to parade his success. L'quipe du Menteur production, directed by Laurent Brethome, intriguingly suggests the party, rather than depicting it, by having Job on the near empty stage which is ringed by a series of long white hangings. The party guests are out of sight behind the drapes, and the party is essentially an auditory experience of fawning sounds redolent of hollow sociability. A solitary servant passes through carrying a tray, illuminated from beneath it, containing a solitary wine glass. A drunken guest offstage trips and falls. Everyone guffaws. Job is alone on stage, addressing his invisible guests with a hand-held mic. Then a long banquet table appears upstage, spanning the space horizontally. In the script, beggars arrive, one poorer than the next, to pick at the leavings from the rich party. Here they Hanoch Levin's Job's Passion, directed by Laurent Brethome. Photo: Courtesy of Equipe du Menteur. 65 appear through holes cut in the table top. The stage space in front of the plank table is revealed to be a landscape of colored bottles littering it. The next scene brings on a series of messengers who give Job the increasingly bad news that all his factories and businesses have failed and that he is now penniless. These messengers are here depicted as faceless entities covered head to toe with something resembling body-socks. And then follows a scene of a ritual stripping of all of Job's worldly goods. Since there are no particular goods in view, all that is material on stage is disassembled and wafted away in record time. The bottles are overturned, and swept into the orchestra pit; the table is taken apart and removed; the great white hangings drop down and are carted off; Job is beaten and humiliated. What we don't know, but what becomes clear by and by is that now, about a third into the play, the directorial ingenuity, which has been pretty strong thus far, is just about exhausted. Job, played by Philippe Sire, who had been wearing a wig up to this point, and has had rather the demeanor of a clown, loses the wig, revealing a clean bald pate. His teeth (or rather the gold from them) are extracted offstage; again, this potentially powerful and grotesque moment is rendered auditorily through the sounds of pullings and shrieks in place of the onstage brutality suggested by the text. Then Job is returned and literally body-painted with flth and slime. White, red, and blue paint is poured all over the stage and Job wallows in it, turning it grey-brown as the colors combine. The other actors then rub it in and turn it to mush on his body. Job learns of the deaths of his various children through female messengers. In the text, cadavers are brought in, but here, as each messenger gives her report, Job then cradles that messenger's body as though it was that of his dead children. All of these ideas, which in and of themselves are not bad, wind up distancing the audience from the horror of the experience. They become semiotic representations of experience standing for the thing itself and putting the actor at a remove both from the experience of loss and from any potential for empathic response by the audience. While Brecht undoubtedly had an impact on Levin's dramaturgy, handling the distantiation in this way undermines the play's power and leaves us to admire or reject the cleverness. The acting is Voltairean and cerebral in its loftiness, Racinian in its rhetorical fourish. While the play is written in free verse, the hyper-clear delivery and pleasure the performers take in the well enunciated phonemes again sets the play at a removewrapping the play in all the trappings of French neo-classicism. Trappings and a trap, one which Levin set, but surely didn't expect his interpreters to fall for. It's just a lot of stentorian tones ringing with false fabricated "feeling," none of which rings true or is capable of evoking tragic disaster. In this sense, the acting recalls that of the young artists in the Lars Norn play, lathering "feelings" onto their lines in a totally unconvincing way. So, in the cerebral modernity of its mise-en- scne paired with the old fashioned approach to the acting, the production betrays the play, which is written in a way that is open to both, but sadly undermined by them. As with the Norn production at the Colline, the enterprise could have been redeemed by distinguished acting, and the role of Job as well as those of his old friends who come to give him solace are certainly opportunities for inspired comedian- tragedians. But the actor playing Job, Philippe Sire, has no personality to speak of; neither does he play any. The same holds for the others. In fact, all the actors are interchangeable in a play which relies on strong personalities for its interest. The crisis of the play comes when Roman soldiers arrive and, discerning that Job is an apostate to the Emperor, that he won't deny his own (presumably Jewish) god, impale him through his posterior. This climax of physical agony is clearly meant to be the apogee of horror and discomfort, an Artaudian immersion in cruelty rather than a Brechtian disquisition. In this production, it takes place behind a curtain. Job's body remains behind that curtain as his face appears in a hole cut into it, high above. His face hangs in the air pretending to moan over an injury that is patently fake. Once again, the director, as though uncomfortable with the mandate for extreme human suffering which is the very stuff of the play and the story of Job, opts for distancing. It's most unfortunate. While Levin plays with artifce and circus imagery throughout, if taken literally as they are in this production, the underlying raison d'etrethe agony and passion of Jobare gutted. 66 Lars Norn's Demoner, directed by Thomas Ostermeier. Photo: Arno Declair. 67 The 2012 Ingmar Bergman International Theatre Festival opened with Lars Norn's 1983 play Demons (Demoner), in an elegant and beautifully acted production from the famed Schaubhne am Lehniner Platz in Berlin, directed by Thomas Ostermeier. Ostermeier has been Artistic Director of the Schaubhne since 1999, and it was in fact for his premiere production there in 2000 that he chose to stage Norn's classic Personkrets 3:1. His extraordinary production of this lesser Norn effort accomplished the minor miracle of making the play seem far better than it actually is. I had a chance to chat with Ostermeier the morning after opening night. Here are some excerpts from our conversation. SCHWARTZ: What is your history with the work of Norn? OSTERMEIER: We did Personkrets in 2000. But I knew his writing already before. I was looking for a contemporary big play which you hardly fnd nowadays because usually they are doing two to four character plays, so I was very happy to fnd Personkrets. I think we had eighty costumes, maybe a hundred, because it is set outside a big square in the middle of any big city in the Western world. It was written for Stockholm but you can imagine it anywhere. So, we had a lot of these characters just passing by. We had more people on stage than in the script. And also the contentI was pretty happy about the content of the play because I wanted to talk about this society of excluded [disenfranchised] people. Years later, three years ago, I came back to this writerto an earlier period of his writing. I always wanted to do this play. I was also considering [Bergman's] Scenes from a Marriage, but I told myself that this is stronger. SCHWARTZ: What specifcally about Demoner spoke to you? OSTERMEIER: It's this [idea of] demons inside the characters haunting them. Often in my plays it's about this faade of civilization which is pretty thin and what lies underneath. You have to be very careful not to from the very beginning stress too much this confict by [having] the actors shout or letting them be mean. You have to fnd a way of very precise observation how people can be mean without showing it. I like this exploration of human behavior. It is a big concern of mine, especially in Germany, where directors are not working on it any more. [There's a lot of] conceptual work where the actor is not that important anymore. I work a lot in rehearsal with the actors: how to express in subtle ways the way people behave, and this is a perfect play [for that]. When you succeed in drawing the audience into the world of this couple, then you can really take them on a journey and go very far. It may look easy but it is actually very diffcult. SCHWARTZ: I agree. When one frst reads the text by itself, one can easily get the impression of simply non-stop yelling. But in your production, there is a palpable fuidity with very distinct rhythms that are poetic, even musical. I feel like this particular A Conversation with Thomas Ostermeier Stan Schwartz Thomas Ostermeier. Photo: Courtesy of Ouest France. 68 production is a kind of elegant string quartet of psychic violence. How did you fnd those rhythms that seem so beautiful and right? OSTERMEIER: This is a real passion of mine working with actors. I'm obsessed with actors not taking the easy way. As you say, it would be easy to imagine them yelling at each other the whole time but then the show would be boring after fve minutes and people would leave probably. Everything that Norn has writtenand this is one of the biggest qualities of this writeris not so much inventing dialogue, but listening to people in reality and just writing down what he hears. SCHWARTZ: He told me that too OSTERMEIER: It's very complicated because you have to listen very precisely. And this is something I immediately saw in his writing and this is also something I am obsessed with. I can spend hours watching other people. I would even say it's a kind of addiction. When I go out with someone to a restaurant, I can hardly follow the real conversation [I should be following] because most of the time I'm listen to other people around me and I can't stop doing this! I think you can read this in Demoner also. The next step is: How do people communicate when they have these very mean ways of talking to each other? Most of the time, when they are mean, they are not saying it in a mean way. It's very playful and playing on different level of communication. Irony, sarcasm. There's different ways of jumping in the level of communication. He [the character of Frank] especially is behaving like a little child a lot of the time in order not to respond to what she [Katarina] wants to talk about. So you jump on two levels: the true communication and [the level where you] avoid the communication. And this is very precisely written down in Lars Norn. SCHWARTZ: In your production, it's equally important what they are doing while they are talking OSTERMEIER: Yes. In my production, there are only a few moments when they sit down and talk to each other. Most of the time, one [of them] is in another room. I asked the actors if they share a fat with their partner, how many times did they really sit down and talk to each other? It's very rare with people we share our lives with, there are only a few moments where you really sit down and talk to each other. Most communication is while you do something else. SCHWARTZ: How do actors respond to this kind of exploration? OSTERMEIER: It's very diffcult for actors to do this. Some of them see this as a challenge, which is beautiful, but most of the actors think "He's driving me crazy, this director!" And talking about the poetic side of the production you were describingI added a third dimensionthe revolving stage and the music. Another challenge for the actors, because at every moment they have to be in a precise spot in the room, because otherwise it won't work, there are moments when the stage is revolving for ten minutes, but you still follow the actors going from one room to another. We invented things they have to do and these things must be meaningful and obvious but not seen as constructed. SCHWARTZ: I imagine that the idea of sculpting the space with the revolving stage came early on. OSTERMEIER: Yes, we had it from the very beginning. And I knew that I was going to use it a lot. Also because I [used] it already in two other showsA Dollhouse and Hedda Gabler. There are a lot of advantages to the revolving stageif you don't use it as a way of bringing in a new setthat's pretty boring. But if you use it as a permanent way of moving the stage, you have a lot of advantages. The actors cannot be concerned anymore about "where is the audience." You [avoid] this narcissistic thought by the actors "I'm performing for them." SCHWARTZ: I had this idea that the concept and the movement together help create for the actors a totally private 360-degree world that they are simply behaving in and we are watching them, almost from outer spacesurveying life on the planet Earth. OSTERMEIER: Yes, I like this description because what I am really trying to [get at] is a view of human behavior where you, on one hand, look at it as something very violent, but on the [other] hand with a smile. I know everything that is happening on stage, I have experienced a lot of this behavior myself, but at the same time, you have to laugh about it and have a wiser, thoughtful look on it. Not to take it too seriously. SCHWARTZ: Your use of video seems to underline 69 even further this idea of aliens observing human behavior from far away. You have not only close-ups of the actors projected, but also shots of inanimate objects. Again, it's almost like a laboratory for the aliens up there who are watchingbut not judging, just watching. OSTERMEIER: This is actually where we fnd ourselves now. It's so diffcult for us to say what is right and wrong, to judge as you say. The only thing which remains is to be very precise in the observation, to work, as you call it, in a kind of a laboratory, and to make the spectators be part of the observance, and then it is up to them to draw conclusions and judge. It's true; I would consider myself more of a scientist than someone who knows the "Truth." It's really a sociological laboratory. SCHWARTZ: Let's go back to something you said earlier which really intrigued me about the current state of German theatre being far less interested in this kind of work with actors and more concerned with work that was far more conceptual. OSTERMEIER: Yes, don't take this show as a [representative] example of German theatre! It is not at all! SCHWARTZ: What is the other German theatre like and why is it so different and why are they not so interested in this kind of theatre? OSTERMEIER: I can only make a theory and I'm not sure it's true, but there was a time in the 1970s, late sixties, when Regietheater was inventedDirector's Theatre. It started with Stein and others. But at that time, it did not mean that you were not working with actors. You made the actors part of it. Nowadays, after thirty years of Regietheater, young directors tend to believe that to be part of this business, you have to be incredibly sophisticated, conceptual, radical; so they are more concerned about the right conception for the evening, than working with the actors. But this is also because a big part of German theatre forgot that what I would call the main interest of someone working in the artswriting books, making movies, making theatreis my question: What is the human being? Which I don't understand. So I sit down to write or to put on stage, to understand. And I will never understand it, but I am trying to get closer. And because I have also been teaching directing for some years now in Berlin, I hardly see this concern [in students]. Their concern is politics, which is good, but it is not the only thing when you do theatre. They are concerned a lot about Demoner. Photo: Arno Declair. 70 installation art, performance art, which is also good. But I hardly see young directors saying: OK, I have experienced in my life a lot of tragedy and I want to understand how this can happen. SCHWARTZ: What makes a human being tick? OSTERMEIER: Yes. Like Georg Bchner put it [in Danton's Death]: Was ist das, was in uns lgt, hurt, stiehlt und mordet? (What is it inside of ourselves which makes us lie, rape, steal, and kill?) SCHWARTZ: Thank you, Thomas. 71 There are many ways of playing Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac. Oriol Broggi opts for the playful and the melancholy, using Xavier Bru de Sala's lively Alexandrine verse version. This is a theatrical world of red and white curtains where two headless mannequins boast period costumes. Actors move the costumes offstage and greet the audience. There is no fourth wall here. Rather the spacious long space of the Biblioteca de Catalunya is reconfgured as a bustling outdoor fair, a carnivalesque space, with a constructed stage and performers animating the space. Empty chairs are acknowledged as if they were an audience, actors are criticized from the backstage. Swords are positioned against the back wallprops ready to be picked up when needed. Oriol Broggi's production portrays a company at work, an ensemble where actors take on the roles demanded of them across the boundaries of gender and age. Lights twinkle in the distance like magical stars, drums, and violins offer an atmospheric soundtrack that suggests something of the military world that shapes Cyrano. Rosaura (Marta Betriu) looks down at Bernat Quintana's Christian from her balcony. The latter has a broad smile and boyish good looks but can only declaim clichs. Pere Arquillu's Cyrano is a weary, hardened soldierhe watches from the audience position as the bland Christian attempts to seduce Rosaura. Christian may be able to climb up the balcony like a deft lizard, but he cannot offer the intelligent comraderie Rosaura craves. "You'll never work alone" is heard in the distancea hymn to the camaraderie that shapes both Cyrano's ethos as well as that of Broggi's company. This production wears its theatrical trappings on its sleeve. A hotel and a bakery are constructed through the most minimal of means and a shift in lightGuillem Gelabert's lighting is a tour de force of pools of light across the breadth of the Barcelona and Madrid 2012: Making Theatre in a Time of Austerity Maria M. Delgado Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac, directed by Oriol Broggi. Photo: Bito Cels. 72 expansive nave space. The red curtain opens as Cyrano confesses that he loves Rosaura. A paper lantern in the distance looks like a giant moon. At the camp, as the soldiers gather, fast furious action is followed by exquisite slow motion. The soldiers all hum as a fute plays summoning them to action. Cyrano sits on the picturesque golden hued windowsill reading as his troops boast of feats. A fort is constructed from tables and chairs. Thrilling sword fghts have something of melodrama's Count of Monte Christo. In the play's fnal act, stage managers scatter fallen leaves on the foora symbol of the passing of time as Rosaura meets the dying Cyrano fourteen years after Christian's death. A nun at the convent where the widowed Rosaura is visited by Cyrano, plays a violina lyrical sound that heralds the sadness that hovers over this reclusive spot. Lighting captures the different moods: the crepuscular night, the breadth of the convent garden, Arquillu moves from the clownishness in act 1 to a heartbreaking sadness in act 4. He moves almost across the seven ages of man. There's a swagger to his walk, an adroit joviality and bravura that gradually slows down as the production progresses. Soldiers and citizens gather at his feet as he tells a story. This Cyrano is a compelling raconteur. His rich voice has a broken quality, rough, raw and rasping. His bulkish build contrasts with Quintana's wispier physique. It is not surprising to the audience that Christian perishes in battle while the heartier Cyrano survives. Arquillu's worn, wind-battered face and graying hair points to a man who has been around. Arquillu's Cyrano has an answer for everything but knows that his distended nose won't win him favors in a society that values the good looking and the attractive. His glances to Rosaura are open and admiring. He revels in the sparring, in the banter and smart conversation. And when Christian secures Rosaura, a slight quivering is balanced by a realization that it is a situation of his own making. The production is marked by Broggi's habitual attention to detail. Dogs bark in the distance as Christian and Cyrano move through the night to charm Rosaura. He appears dressed in black and white, yet is anything but a black-and-white cardboard cut out. There is certainly a nod to Josep Maria Flotats's celebrated 1985 Cyrano but this is a less clownish characterization. Arquillu's Cyrano has no false expectations. He never thinks he can win Rosaura and this is part of the reason we root for him. Two home-grown playwrights have had extended hits this season. At the Villarroel, Jordi Galceran's farce Burundanga features a terrifc central performance from Carles Canut. Pau Mir's Els jugadors ("The Players") is an altogether more sombre play, although it has a fair dose of black comedy running through it. There is something of Patrick Marber's Dealer's Choice in this four-act tale of four gamblersall damaged personalities whose rumblings and ruminations pre- and post- games we are privy to. The four meet at the home of the professora math teacher who has lost his job through a violent assault on a pupil who questioned his formula. This bear of a man is morose and unable to move forward. Trapped by the requests and mementoes of his dead father, he moves around the kitchen with the weary resignation of a half-comatose zombie. His late 1970s kitchen (an impressive design by Enric Planas) is a notable vision of himself: shabby cupboards, a once stylish but now grimy retro fridge, worn worktops, and a cooker that has seen better days. The clock is stuck at 9:15an image of the professor's inability to move on. This is a world that has failed to reinvent itself, and it looks tired and unft for purpose. The professor's three partners in crime are similarly damaged personalities. The actor Jordi Boixaderas has something of worn Al Pacino of Dog Day Afternoon. He sports a similar 1970s leather jacket, and while he may ostensibly appear the calmest of the three, he has demons aplenty. He may be a seductive performeras his rendition of Dean Martin's "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You," microphone in hand shows, but he is also a man who has touched rock bottom. He is a habitual thief, a kleptomaniac who steals compulsively from supermarkets. Only his targets are not iPhones or electricals but the most mundane of items: a bag of fairy cakes, a bottle of dodgy gin. He is excited by the thrill of getting caught, and he resents the younger generation who he argues have stolen his future. Jordi Bosch is the most explosive of the group, a nervy undertaker with a nasty temper and sour temperament. Not only a gambling addict, he is also addicted to sex with a Ukrainian prostitute whom he can't stop seeing, and his explosions are genuinely menacing. He sees violence as the only thing that worksthe answer to all his problems and frustrations. The wily Boris Ruiz is a barber whose business is on the point of closingone of many references to the Spanish recession. He dare not tell his wife what is going on. He's smart but cynical and 73 refutes agency, preferring to see himself as a victim of a world that has left him behind. It's hard not to see a critique here of the generation that allowed itself to be swept away by promises of easy credit and quick bucks. This generation never takes responsibility for what the mess the country is in. The four gamblers exist on a diet of coffee, gin, and beerwith a stash of gin hidden for an emergency. This is the place where they all feel at home: a kitchen that's seen better times. If Mark Ravenhill's Shopping & Fucking gave us a culture where the youth of today are nurtured on ready- made microwavable meals, Mir too doesn't see so much of a difference with their elders. These men also appear nurtured by a battered microwavethe most dominant item in the kitchen. Only while Lulu and Mark appear to relish the supermarket culture of the present, these four gamblers feel that the world has changed. Fuelled with anger and resentment they lash out at the women in their lives. This is evidently a generation tarnished by antiquated views of women as unreliable whores and swindlers. Life hasn't delivered what it promised and so they rant indiscriminately at the injustice of it all. All four are aggrieved gamblers who have lost considerable amounts of money at the roulette table. Now they meet to play poker, and their tawdry reunions provide a festering climate for their frustration, desperation, and resentment. The blues guitar gives the piece a melancholy air; while the constant fxes of coffee and gin fuel the men's anxieties creating a charged atmosphere. Mir directs with an escalating sense of tension, and while he never romanticizes these deluded, ageing losers he also avoids demonizing them. Their vulnerabilities give them a particular humanity. Their pottering in the kitchenwashing crockery, making coffee, opening the fridge in the hope of seeing something else they can consume, discovering a hidden bottle of ginlends their daily rituals a morose sadness. The story has something of the energy of Reservoir Dogs refracted through the game play of David Mamet's House of Cardsand Bosch more than a passing likeness to Joe Mantegnabut the context of a Spanish nation falling apart at the seams also lends the play a poignant contemporary relevance and immediacy. It's been almost a decade since the last new show by La Cubana. Campanades de boda ("Wedding Bells") offers a blisteringly funny treatment of the wedding as onstage and offstage drama. Crafted as a frenetic satire, it negotiates a series of clichs about weddings that are innovatively exposed and interrogated. Nuptials are exposed as Pau Mir's Els jugadors, directed by Jordi Galceran. Photo: Ros Ribas. 74 a fusion of panic, neurosis, vanity, and narcissism. Cross-cultural misunderstandings are the least of the couple's worries. The Rius family are forists, owners of the Floriteria Ruis (open 24/7), and daughter Violeta (Montse Amat) is getting married. Only this paragon of Catalan enterprise and respectability is marrying a famous Bollywood actor, Vickram Sodhi (performed on screen by Ajay Jethi), who Violeta met at the Caf de la Radio while he was working in Barcelona. While she would rather just have a small ceremony, her mother has other plans. Act 1 takes place in the chic apartment of Violeta's mother, Hortensia (Annabel Totusaus), who is leading on the lavish wedding preparations with her sister Margarita (a return to the company for one of its earliest collaborators, Mont Plans). The action is structured as a run up to the wedding using a series of fashbacksfrom six months before to a mere six hours before the big eventwith a sense of count down indicated through the projections on a screen. The action offers a fusion of Ray Cooney, French farce, and the escalating chaos of Robert Altman's A Wedding (1978). As with Altman's flm, there is an expansive cast, the use of a tiered wedding cake as a prominent publicity element, and confict through an unconventional pairing: for Altman the confict comes through a class schism; here it is distance (as well as race and ethnicity) that separates the two families. Violeta's family are also beset by their own internal squabbling. Hortensia's ex, Paco Zamora (Xavi Tena), a former policeman who evidently models himself on a fusion of Tom Selleck's Magnum and James Garner's Rockford, arrives with his alcoholic French girlfriend Margot (Mara Garrido) in tow. And Margot can always be relied on to arrive drunk, desperate for a drink, or inappropriately attired to any event. Violeta's siblings have their own concerns to grapple with. Narcs (Toni Torres) is a hen-pecked husband in awe of his voluptuous, fery wife Regina (Babeth Ripoll), a volatile Brazilian who uses their small daughter as a bartering tool in her wars with Narcs's imposing familywho evidently resent her. Brother Jacint (Bernat Cot) has a gay partner, Juan Carlos (Oriol Burs), and longs for the large-scale social nuptials being lavished on Violeta. But the family wants to keep Jacint in the closet as they fear the conservative streak embodied by Paco's aging ta Consuelo (Meritxell La Cubana's Campanades de boda. Photo: Josep Aznar. 75 Dur). Aunt Consuelo is draconian in her beliefs, arriving at the house sporting fercely traditional Roman Catholic beliefs and a dramatic mantilla, an imposing walking stick, and a mysterious package that she refuses to part with. The package is revealed in act 2 to be a portable altar that she opens during the civil ceremony as her way of ensuring that there is a religious presence at a wedding that she sees as dominated by pagan interests. Consuelo is clearly no fan of Hortensia and Margarita. Her rabidly anti-Catalan sentiments manifest themselves on numerous occasions. Paco cowers to her, refusing to acknowledge his own separation from Hortensia in an attempt to keep up appearances within his highly conservative family. Manolita is the compassionate and loyal Andalusian family servant who has served the Riuses through thick and thin. Like Consuelo she is "other" to the Catalan family, but her fuency in Catalan suggests a level of assimilation that Consueloconsistently clad in black and fapping around the stage like a deranged ravenfercely rejects. Manolita is a chorus of sorts, commenting on the action as someone who stands on the periphery of the family. She doles out advice to Violeta and leads the audience through the tussles, tantrums, and intrigues besetting the family. Like Lorca's aging Doa Rosita, she also refects on her own lost love. Her predicament is further echoed in that of Modesto (Jaume Baucis), who supervises deliveries for the family business and pines adoringly for the single Margarita. The structure of act 1 is very much that of a French farce with the forthcoming event threatened by a range of unforeseen calamities. The wedding planners, from the company Campanades de boda, don't quite have control of the eventone of a number of references to poor organization at the institutional level that allude to Spain's economic woes. The concejal who was due to offciate the ceremony is now indisposed, so an actor is contracted to take his place. Recruited from street theatre on la Rambla, however, he isn't too confdent with the text he's been given to perform, and panic ensues as he fuffs his lines and suffers a bout of rampant diarrhea. Wedding preparations are further interrupted by a range of visitorsboth foreseen and unforeseenand this allows for the narrative to be consistently halted. The restaurant is changing the menu at the last minute. Unwanted gifts arrive including a hideous porcelain statue. The Romanian cleaner has to be shown the ropes by Manolita. The hairdresser turns up with dynamic ideas for styling Violeta. Regina stomps in to confront Narcsand pushes Paco into the food prepared for the family. A tuna (a Spanish university band made up of singers and instrumentalists dressed in seventeenth- century cloak, doublet, and stockings) made up of four singer-musicians, including a bushy-haired animated tamborine player who performs with great gusto, serenade the bride to be with "Me gusta mi novio" (I like my groom). Violeta is unhappy with the meringue-style dress that her mother has chosen for her and the campy dress designer, Anselmo de la Croix (Jordi Miln) faces the challenge of designing a dress in the six hours remaining before the wedding's that will simultaneously please the bride and not alienate her mother. Momentum escalates as the act progresses with the drama over the dress and venue providing the move from act 1's boulevard comedy to act 2's participatory experience. With 1000 plus invited guests and an escalating list of potential additions, the decision is taken to move the event to a larger venue, and this is where the Tvoli is revealed as the chosen location. As Manolita bursts into song music is linked with love as in the classic Broadway musicals and is used to signal moments of heightened emotion throughout act 2Violeta disappears under the layers of white cloth that Anselmo de la Croix and his team will fashion into a wedding dress. Manolita's song "Al da" guides the audience through this transition from the apartment to the wedding venue. Flower petals are scattered across the space; guests cascade down the aisle towards the stage; and the audience are given brightly coloured pamelas to wear and greeted as friends in a fevered rush of activity that opens the opulent ceremony. The ceremony, however, is soon shown to be bereft of one key element: the groom. Vickram cannot leave Mumbai, and so the wedding will have to take place via video link with a family standin, Ana Porrn, who works as a secretary at the Instituto Cervantes in Bombay, to orchestrate proceedings from there and Kandarp Raturn representing the groom's family in Barcelona. This is a wedding for the digital age where geographical distance is no impediment to nuptials, a virtual ceremony where the two families effectively communicate via a Skype connection. Act 2 functions as a variation on the backstage musical. Weddings, of course, often feature in screen narratives as a mode of showing a restoration of order and narrative closure. Here the couple have to overcome a range of obstacles including the physical absence of the groomto achieve this symbolic union. Margot trips over the train as she scuttles in impossibly high shoes and 76 then vomits before being carried off stage; Regina wants Narcs to leave his mother's apron strings and follow her; the video link between Barcelona and Mumbai threatens to break down; a petrifed actor performs the ceremony as if explaining a story to childrenbut the show must, as in Una nit d'pera, nevertheless, go on. The Indian guests sing Joan Manuel Serrat's Paraules d'amor. Jacint and Narcs embark on a performanceplaying the cello and reciting verses in honor of their sister's nuptials (before the temperamental Renata fnally succeeds in dragging the confused Narcs off home) and the screen and stage worlds unite in a rendition of the Punjabi wedding song from Brides and Prejudice (2004). Not even Consuelo's brutal rendition of a variation on Ave Mara "Salve Rociera" as the Punjabi Wedding Song is underway can tarnish the celebratory mood. The wedding party thus effectively becomes La Cubana's celebration of its relationship with its loyal audience. The show's fnal number, "Como nos gusta hacer teatro/Com ens agrada fer teatre" by Joan Vives, one of the company's most regular collaborators, summarizes the pleasures of making theatre with an audience. Theatre here becomes about the creation of a community brought together through stage, screen, and the auditorium. The audience are made to feel a part of the team-effort in a series of ways. In act 1, members of the audience are named in Hortensia and Margarita's discussion of seating plans. In act 2, the wedding party talks to audience members as they make their way to the stage. Audience members are invited to act as bridesmaids and witnesses to the ceremony and a photographer moves across the auditorium taking photographs of the audience in their wedding pamelas. These photos are available post-performance on a website run by the newspaper El Peridico: http://album.elperiodico.com/galerias/ lacubana/. As such the guests take a primary role in the family album realised for each show on this website. The photo offers an after-effect, a way of ensuring that the affect of the performance remains after the performance. At Madrid's Espaol Theatre, Mario Gas closes his fnal season as artistic director with his own production of a musical for lean times. Sondheim's Follies is a celebration of the need to emerge from the knocks life throws at you. The reunion that brings the different members of "Weismann's Follies" together sees two unhappily married couples meet again after over two decades. Buddy and Ben were once best friends. Only Ben married Phyllis leaving a heartbroken Sally who settled for Buddy as the second best option. An encounter with Ben convinces Sally she's still in love with Ben. Only Ben appears only in love with himself. While the couples bicker, barter and reminisce, other "follies" appear to share moments of their past and revive past numbers. The characters are constantly reminded of a better past when they were ftter, livelier, happier, and full of illusions about the future. The ghosts of the follies walk across the stage in the opening moments of the piece; the younger selves of Buddy, Ben, Sally, and Phyllis follow them, playing out the key moments of a shared history that has indelibly marked their present; the hold of the past proves hard to let go of. Gas is a master craftsman and the smoky gray set is evocative of a 1940s noir movie with a balcony and iron stairs that allows for the younger selves of the two couples to play out their scenes. The bright lights of the citya fuorescent "Jesus Saves" sign, a tall tower, theatre names and nightclubs shine in the distance. The bluish-gray hues hark back to both black and white cinema and a time muddied with mist and memories. There is an attention to movement and mannerisms that allow for parallels to be established between the jaded middle-aged couples and their younger embodiments. Diego Rodrguez suggests the vanity of Ben; ngel Ruiz presents Buddy's impulsive manner. Marta Capel points to Phyllis's clinical pragmatism; Julia Mller points to the character that sees Sally lose out to the wilier Phyllis. It's with the four adult counterparts that the show really takes off. Vicky Pea's Phyllis is a fgure in glacial baby blue with platinum hair harshly pulled back and a dismissive manner. She's an effective contrast to Muntsa Rius's sunny girl-next-door Sally in a plainer green dress. Pep Molina's Buddy is down to earth and sings "The Right Girl" as an Archie Rice-like fgure. The days on the road as a travelling salesman have taken their toll on him. He looks worn and battered; someone who fnds solace on the roadin wine, women, and song. Carlos Hiplito is excellent as the arrogant and isolated Ben for whom the grass always looks greener on the other side of the wall. There is an effortlessness to his performance of affuence that is beautifully understated. Asuncin Balaguer steals the show as the elderly Hattie Walker who has buried fve husbands, all younger than her. Her "Broadway Baby" number is a delight of wit and the most delicate of dance steps. Carmen Conesa presents a glam femme fatale as the vampish Solange LaFitte. Mario Gas plays Weismann in a knowing manneran appropriate 77 piece of self-referential casting. 1968 Eurovision Song Contest winner Massiel is larger than life singing the showstopping "I'm still here" as the grand Carlotta Campiona picture in pastel pink. The cast of thirty-eight appears a luxury in a municipal theatre at such a time of austerity but it's a decision that pays off. The staging is able to accommodate the intimate and the epic, the private moments and revelations and the bigger show tunes. The production is able to function as a homage to the piece's Broadway heritage but also gives packed houses in Madrid a positive message of surviving loss and making it through to face another day. At a time when Spain is struggling to come to terms with the human rights atrocities of the Franco era, Osvaldo Golijov's opera Ainadamar (closing the season at Madrid's Teatro Real) offers an elegy to the poet Federico Garca Lorca presented through the eyes of one of his most regular collaborators, the actress Margarita Xirgu. Xirgu, in exile in Uruguay, shares stories of her collaborations with Lorca with a young actress, Nuria, training with her. The chorus of women in black recalls those of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, their lament is a further nod to the grieving women who close Blood Wedding. The cantaor (male famenco singer) Jess Montoya who takes the role of Ruiz Alonso (shared with the dancer Marco Berriel) sings his orders as he orders Lorca's execution. His loud lament echoes across the auditorium, a nod also to the duende of famenco that so infuenced Lorca's work. The role of Xirgu is split between Jessica Rivera and Nuria Espert. The former sings a soprano role, the latter recites poems from Lorca's Moorish- infuenced late collection, El Divn del Tamarit. Nuria Espert's fgure in white offers a visual point of contrast with Jessica Rivera's black clad Xirgu. Espert is Xirgu's host, her shadow, her pulse both a revenant and a manifestation of the past in the present. She cannot escape her status as Spain's most acclaimed living actress; a fgure who has acknowledged her lineage to Xirgu. She is at once Xirgu and Espert; one dialoguing with the other. She embraces Kelley O'Connor's shimmering mezzo Lorca: a fgure in a white suit who illuminates the stage. This Lorca is at once Stephen Sondheim's Follies, directed by Mario Gas. Photo: Courtesy of Espaol Theatre. 78 fragile and luminous, ghostly and radiant. He is protected by both Rivera and Espert's Xirgu. They hover over him like a child. He rises; he falls; he is pushed; he lingers. The parallels with Christ on the way to the Mount of Olives are evident; a bullfghter (ngel Rodrguez) and teacher (David Rubiera) are the two companions on the fnal journey. The chorus of women lament his death with Espert and Rivera as the Mary and Mary Magdalene fgures. A complex soundscape of radio broadcasts, the sound of running water, and gunshots interact with the music, vocals and Espert's recital. Peter Sellars' production has a formal austerity that echoes that of Lorca's Divn. Gronk's set creates a busy, angry collage where Picasso's "Guernica" interacts with Latin-American conceptual art. Past and present are in constant dialogue. When the back wall rises to show the world outside the theatre, we are reminded of a Spanish state that put Baltasar Garzn on trial for investigating the disappearances, including that of Lorca, of the Civil War and Franco era. In a Spanish nation struggling to come to terms with the implications of the pact of silence introduced in the immediate aftermath of Franco's death, the Argentine Golijov and librettist Asian-American David Henry Hwang fashion an elegy to a dead poet whose legacy was promoted across the Americas by the actress who had premiered so many of his works. 79 Take the bored and possibly clueless daughter of a count and a handsome servant with social ambitions. Add a maid who represents law, order, and common sense. Surround them by the Swedish midsummer night with its atmosphere of sexuality and magic. Voil! You have got Miss Julie by August Strindberg, a classic that has never ceased to fascinate directors, actors, and audiences since it frst appeared over a century ago. Five years ago it was claimed that A Doll's House was the world's most performed play. Today it seems that Miss Julie is about to edge Henrik Ibsen from the top spot. European theatre audiences have recently seen Miss Julie in all kinds of interpretations: a British update by Patrick Marber directed by Natalie Abrahami at Young Vic in London, a multimedia version by Katie Mitchell and Leo Warner at the Schaubhne in Berlin, and a French mise-en-scne by Frdric Fisbach in which Juliette Binoche makes one of her rare appearances on stage. The Schaubhne's director and CEO, Thomas Ostermeier, has set his Miss Julie in contemporary Moscow. Like his earlier interpretations of Nora and Hedda, Julie is trapped in a claustrophobic middle- class setting where she is unable to break free of her own social patterns. The Russian Julie is the spoiled daughter of a former KGB offcer, now a nouveau- riche businessman living in luxury and opulence. We have seen Ostermeier's Nora and Hedda go under, and now it is Julie's turn to die. Sweden is celebrating the centennial of August Strindberg's death this year, and a few of us greeted the up-coming celebration with skepticism and a mild yawn. This is because there has been such an intense debate about women playwrights whose work had been performed in the 1880s, was later forgotten and overshadowed by the canonized Strindberg, and today is being rediscovered and performed again. What could possibly be new about Strindberg and his plays? Mounting Strindberg in Sweden has mainly come to mean two things: frst, performing that canonized repertoire, and second, impersonating Strindberg himself. No other Swedish playwright or author has been so identifed with his characters as Strindberg. For a long time, it was axiomatic that male protagonists in stage productions of Strindberg's plays wore the Strindberg mask: the mustache, a neat goatee, and a suspicious gaze. In foreign productions, audiences are typically given a wider breadth of interpretation as directors and actors move more freely outside the Swedish national tradition of how one performs Strindberg. But the centennial has not been quite as predictable as one might have imagined. Three exciting feminist From Here to Eternity: Miss Julie Strikes Back and Refuses To Die Tiina Rosenberg Anna Petterson's Miss Julie. Photo: Elisabeth Ohlson Wallin. 80 multimedia productions of Miss Julie, a play that has been one of the year's darlings, bear a closer look. In Strindberg's own performance space, Intima Teatern (The Intimate Theatre) in Stockholm, Anna Pettersson offers a virtuoso solo number playing an actress-director and the three roles of Julie, Jean, and Kristin. The audience arrives to face a classic Miss Julie setting: a kitchen table, an open window with a summer breeze stirring the curtains, and Swedish midsummer music. But as soon as Pettersson enters the stage, the atmosphere changes drastically: she clears all the props from the stage. A sharp razor is projected on a large screen and Pettersson opens the play wondering aloud how in the world she will ever make it through the play. She waves the symbolic Strindberg about in the form of a book, questioning passages of the drama, performing scenes and testing characters, all in a lively exchange with the audience. In a theatre talk after the show, Pettersson described how she originally intended to stage Miss Julie with three actors, then decided to perform all three roles herself. She later added Anna, an actress, director, and contemporary woman, who raises her voice in protest but still remains in dialogue with the Strindberg legacy. Pettersson's production of Miss Julie is a part of the artistic research program at the Stockholm Academy of Dramatic Arts, and she examines the convention of Miss Julie and her compulsory suicide. On stage, Pettersson asks angrily: Why should Julie always have to kill herself? Why does Jean not commit suicide, Pettersson ponders? He has also had sex with her, and his shame and guilt ought to be as heavy as hers. It is a question the audience carries home with them. Does Julie really have to die in the end? It seems to depend on one's point of view. The end is only half-explicit in the play: both Julie and Jean are hesitant, but when Jean admonishes Julie that although it is terrifying, she has to do it; off she goes. There is a power and dramaturgic seduction in Strindberg's play that reminds one of the way Wagner's music "persuades the nerves," in breaking down the resistance of an audience, and so the audience breathes in unison with Strindberg's text, whether it likes to or not. In order to oppose this force, Pettersson uses Brechtian type of breaks in performing the actress-director and all three roles, creating distance through the parallel adaptation of these positions in the production. It is an innovative, simultaneous approach that does not undermine the power of the play. Pettersson performs Miss Julie as a chain of segments in which she both acts out and reacts to today's challenges. Another feminist project built on the theme of Miss Julie is Fia-Stina Sandlund's art flm trilogy, Save Miss Julie: She's Blonde Like Me (2011), She's Staging It (2012), and a third flm in progress focusing on a contemporary couple, Julie and Jean, living in New York. Sandlund is a feminist art activist who became known to a wider public in Sweden through the Slimy Old Men action (Gubbslem) in 2001, in which she and fellow artist Joanna Rytel attacked the Miss Sweden beauty contest. Sandlund has been involved in performance and direct action since then. Her choice to play Julie in the Save Miss Julie project is Alexandra Dahlstrm, known from the flm Show Me Love (1998), a groundbreaking examination of lesbian teenage love in a small Swedish town. In Save Miss Julie: She's Blonde Like Me, Sandlund meets Dahlstrm at Arlanda airport in Stockholm for an audition. Three days later, they put on a performance at the Venice Art Biennale in the form of an interview. Sandlund and Dahlstrm discuss Miss Julie, and their own experiences as younger women, and it turns out that they have a lot in common with the characters they are trying to create on flm. In the second part of the trilogy, She's Staging It, Dahlstrm arrives in New York where rehearsals of Sandlund's version of Miss Julie, called She's Wild Again Tonight, are taking place. A white American actor, Elizabeth Whitney, plays Kristin, and Lea Robinson, an African-American trans- butch, plays Jean. Bringing in female masculinity via Robinson turns the play into a lesbian plot, an approach more popular in contemporary productions of Ibsen (where Hedda Gabler has become a favorite lesbian character) than in performing Strindberg. The race-related dramaturgy has also been done before in South Africa with a white Julie and a black Jean, and in Canada in a production that set the story in a Native Canadian context. The third part of Sandlund's trilogy will have a screenplay by Josefne Adolfsson, who wrote Lisa Aschan's award-winning flm She Monkeys (2011). Sandlund's planned flm is a chamber play with two actors who will portray a contemporary Julie and Jean. Sandlund's Miss Julie is a story about power, but also about shame and sexuality. While Save Miss Julie: She's Blonde Like Me, and She's Staging It cannot be called traditional documentaries, they are art flms made by the action-documentation- analysis method Sandlund prefers. Her feminist conception shares its point of departure with that of Anna Pettersson. By rescuing Miss Julie from a 81 compulsory suicide, they both oppose the tradition of dead women's theatre. "Going to the theatre is like going to one's own funeral," as Hlne Cixous once put it, summarizing the frustration of feminists with a tradition as old as the Greek dramatists in which women are sacrifced or killed [Le Monde, 28 April, 1977]. When asked why a feminist activist like herself would bother to work with Strindberg's play, Sandlund responds: "Yes, people have questioned the fact that I am dealing with Strindberg, instead of dealing with one of his female colleagues. But it is not Strindberg himself who is interesting; it is our interpretations of his work that are exciting, because I think he has great plays and stories. Strindberg was ahead of his time and saw these structures and these problems, although he had a different attitude towards them. So it is easy to identify with him. He felt that the personal was political: he was upset and questioned the existing power structures." [Dagens Nyheter, Kultur, 16 October, 2011] Sandlund's mission is to rescue Miss Julie, and she characterizes her project with three key words: gender, comedy, and S&M. The inspiration for Sandlund's interpretation comes from feminism and the psychoanalytic work of Jessica Benjamin who also appears in the flm She's Staging It. Sandlund considers that class and gender are the main themes of Miss Julie, but also sexuality and shame. She places the story in a contemporary setting and wants to show that things are still like this for women. Strindberg calls Julie "half woman," that is, a woman brought up to believe that she has the same rights and freedoms as a man, and it is for this she is punished with death. Sandlund, born in the 1970s, reminds us that although "we now live in a feminist- conscious society that claims to accept "half women," there still remains tremendous resistance." She fnds Miss Julie still relevant today, because it deals with both class and gender. She identifes herself with the character of Julie and wants all the "half women" to unite in a world where women are taught to believe that they can become anything they want. "A hard awakening," Sandlund notes dryly [Dagens Nyheter, Kultur, 16 October, 2011]. The award-winning British director Katie Mitchell and video artist Leo Warner have come up with one of the most radical new interpretations of Miss Julie ever made. The Schaubhne originally mounted Mitchell and Warner's production in 2010. It was one of the main attractions of the Avignon Theatre Festival in 2011, and fnally reached Stockholm and the Bergman Festival in May 2012. A young German ensemble performs Miss Julie, and it is an impressive example of Mitchell's work at the intersection of flm and theatre. The action on stage is simultaneous, but not identical, with the flm projected on a screen above the stage. Jean (Tilman Fia-Stina Sandlund's Save Miss Julie. Photo: Marius Dybwad Brandrud. 82 Strauss), Julia (Luise Wolfram), and Kristin (Jule Bwe) make their stage entrances and exits in an atmospheric mansion kitchen while a flm technician selects certain sequences and projects them on the screen. Combining live performance, video, and live music on stage is an approach Mitchell and Warner have previously applied in productions of Virginia Woolf's Waves and Dostoyevsky's The Idiot at the National Theatre in London. They transform the stage into a movie studio, with the actors appearing in close-ups on the screen. The lovely projected flm is full of Nordic nostalgia and reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman. Seeing Mitchell's and Warner's production of Miss Julie at the Bergman Festival is altogether different from the Schaubhne experience. Bergman's infuence over Mitchell's visual compositions becomes clearer when Miss Julie is played in Sweden. Mitchell said in an interview that she grew up with Bergman's flms [Svenska Dagbladet, 27 May, 2012]. The possibility of working with Bergman's actors brought Mitchell to Sweden a few years ago to direct Easter, her frst Strindberg production at the Royal Dramatic Theatre in Stockholm. Mitchell and Warner's exquisite cinematic compositions open new perspectives on Strindberg. Julie thrusts herself into the picture like a knife sliding between Kristin and Jean. Another scene shows Kristin alone in the foreground, looking out of a window, while Jean and Julie are busy with each other in the background. While Kristin sleeps the ensemble creates suggestive cinematic dream sequences on stage with water and lighting effects. The music composed by Gareth Fry and the live cello played by Chloe Miller are integral to the show and have a dynamically unifying effect on the mise- en-scne. Mitchell's interpretation of Miss Julie is fltered through Kristin. This working class woman, a character absent from much art and theatre history, changes the focus of traditional productions of the play. Kristin longingly picks midsummer fowers and looks on as the increasingly frivolous game between her fanc and Miss Julie intensifes. From her lonely room she hears them quarrel in the kitchen. In her world of duty and self-sacrifce, Kristin is stunned with grief. This contrasts with the usual depiction of Kristin as a woman of limited emotional range, as if her imagination could not soar beyond the mundane or be flled with any sense of romance. Technology may tend to keep an audience at a certain distance, but the frequent use of tight Anna Pettersson's Miss Julie. Photo: Elisabeth Ohlson Wallin. 83 camera shots brings Kristin close to the audience: they see the reddened hands of a working woman, her drawn skin, tired eyes, and hurt feelings when she realizes that Jean has been unfaithful. The audience is drawn into her consciousness, viewing the drama through her eyes with muted intensity as the production deepens perspectives into Kristin's life. Three actors perform Kristin. One is sometimes at a separate microphone, where she reads poems by Inger Christensen as Kristin's internal monologue. The production does not say much about who these people are. It is rather a midsummer night's rhapsody of emptiness where the cameras register inner and outer action on stage. Traces of a human tragedy are caught by modern technology. The three productions cited involve multimedia, and none are based on traditional character conceptions. The cinematic technique contributes to this approach. Film sequences have become a common feature in modern theatrical productions. The Swedish theatre critic Leif Zern fnds that this has to some extent slighted the work of actors: the constant presence of technology is stressful for performers, and there are sometimes more screens than actors on stage. Nevertheless in each of the productions, the use of technology has been creative and has facilitated new interpretations. Mitchell says she wanted to make the stage production as technically sophisticated as a feature flm. In this way, she feels, the story comes closer to the audience and reveals new aspects that make us a little curious about Strindberg again. We sense there is more to be discovered than we remember. But fresh perspectives on the play are required to extract them. Innovation may just be what the performing arts need in a high-tech era where live theatre is no longer a priority for contemporary audiences. The generation born in the 1990s lives in a transnational, mobile world paired via the Internet, while the performing arts are both linguistically and spatially bound to local environments. Mitchell hopes that the younger audiences will respond with surprise and delight when they see her productions: "Good God, it's live!" and realize that they would like to work in theatre, or at least think, "My God, I want to go the theatre!" Anna Pettersson, Fia-Stina Sandlund, and Katie Mitchell have succeeded in combining a contemporary take on Strindberg with a creative application of technology. Mitchell has also responded to the concern that technology may overwhelm actors: "I am attempting to keep the integrity of the live experience and also enhance the complexity and nuances." All three have envisioned the characters in Miss Julie in their particular ways. When Mitchell heard about Pettersson's one woman Save Miss Julie. Photo:Marius Dybwad Brandrud. 84 Miss Julie (now on tour in Europe and US), she exclaimed: "It's wonderful that the two of us from two different countries, independently of each other, challenge Strindberg. He should not end up in a museum!" [Svenska Dagbladet, Kultur, 27 May, 2012]. (Translations of quotations in this article are by the author). Sophocles' Antigone, directed by Polly Findlay. Photo: Courtesy of The Royal National Theatre. 85 The Royal National Theatre's production of Antigone played in London alongside two spectacles and celebrations of nation states, the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II and the 2012 Olympic Games. Sophocles' Antigone, well known for its refections on the individual, the state, kinship, justice, gender, and violence, has captured the philosophical and theoretical imaginations of Hegel, Lacan, and Butler among many others. Staging Antigone in London during a summer of celebrations of royalty and competing nations provided the play with a contemporary context overflled with the presence of the state, and Don Taylor's translation certainly brings the question of the state to the fore through near-constant reference. In the translation and the production, Antigone's claims to kinship and blood relations are largely placed in the background to Creon's embodiment of the state; indeed, Antigone is largely absent from the stage for most of the production. Of course, this is primarily Sophocles' doing, but except for a few glimpses of the world outside, provided by a rotating stage, the production does not leave the bunker that serves as Creon's military headquarters and this production's representation of the state. The National Theatre production of Antigone, as directed by Polly Findlay, had a decidedly contemporary feel to it. Set in the command center of a lived-in bunker left over from the 1970s, the Brutalist architecture of the National Theatre blended into the stage, which was flled with reel-to-reel recorders, dot-matrix printers, and glass-walled offces full of maps, illuminated by harsh forescent lighting. Some of the light fxtures were broken and covered in dust, presumably stirred up by the steady barrage of explosions heard as a bass-heavy soundtrack of noise that played as the audience entered the theatre. The play began when the sound of a violent explosion rumbled through the theatre, and the audience and stage were plunged into darkness. When the lights were brought up, men in military uniforms were scurrying about the stage. They read long printouts and pointed excitedly at a video monitor. At one point, all of the military men assembled around the screen in a tableau that was reminiscent of the now famous image from inside the White House of President Barak Obama and his Cabinet watching the assault on Osama Bin Laden's housean image that occupies a place in the program next to a picture of Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove. The opening sequence quickly established the battle at the gates of Thebes that sets the play in motion from the perspective of the military commanders. After the excitement died down in the bunker, the stage rotated to the sound of loud military percussion to reveal Antigone (Jodie Whittaker) and Ismene (Annabel Scholey) outside the poured concrete walls of the bunker. Costumed in a casual blue dress, Whittaker's Antigone stands in immediate contrast to the starched military men inside the bunker. In the frst scene of dialogue, we learn that the civil war between Antigone's brothers Polynices and Eteocles has recently come to a close and that both brothers are dead. Eteocles has been buried with full honors provided by the state for his role in defending Thebes against the onslaught of Polynices' army. Polynices' body, however, remains unburied. As a declared enemy of the state, Polynices will not be granted a proper burial. A minute later we return to the world of Creon (Christopher Eccleston), the stage rotating to bring us back inside the bunker. Considering the amount of stage time he is given, Sophocles' play might be called Creon. And in this adaptation, the tragedy does appear to be Creon's, bound among his duty to the state, his love of his son Haemon (Luke Newberry), who is set to marry Antigone, and proper religious rites. Eccleston wrings his hands and storms around the bunker as if the space and his position were a cage. Eccleston takes on the role with gusto, barking orders to military men, interrogating Antigone, quietly trying to convince Haemon that the power of the state must be upheld, and fnally wallowing in despair as his allegiance to the rule of law causes all those around him to take their lives. In Creon's frst scene, he is talking with military leaders and drafting a press release regarding the end of hostilities. Costumed in a blue suit and vacillating between teary eyed lamentation about his role in upholding the authority of the state and boisterous exclamations about the necessary power of the state, Creon initially comes across as nervous and not entirely able to embody his station, which is discussed at length throughout the production. Polynices' body is to inspire terror in the hearts of the enemies of Thebesthe enemies of the state or the "subversive elements," as Creon refers to them. Perhaps the one action Creon does Antigone at the National Theatre, London Eero Laine 86 not think twice about is hanging a large picture of himself prominently in the bunker. Creon makes clear that people must serve the state and that he is now the state. The production stages Thebes as a pseudo- fascist regime headed by nervous administrators and public relations managers. Through Findlay's staging and smart blocking, Creon's state is shown to be indiscriminate in its policing. When an unkempt soldier enters to deliver the news that Polynices' body has been buried, he is pinned to a chair, an audio recorder shoved into his face, and interrogated. If this is how members of Creon's military are treated, the dissidents can likely expect worse. Creon is revealed to be deeply concerned about even a small crack in the veneer of power. After being cast out, the soldier returns with Antigone, who is immediately questioned and admits her guilt. The issue is framed in this production primarily as a confict between God's law, which is invoked by Antigone, and Creon's law, the law of a mere man. This stages the divide not between kinship and the state but between religious freedom and the stateboth Ismene and Antigone are referred to as terrorists. In another scene, Creon attempts to explain his predicament to Haemon, who, like Antigone, appears rather young. Dressed in dapper prep- school clothing, Haemon's counter arguments are treated as an idealistic plea to save his fanc from death. Creon's hard-line stance on the role of the state and his position in it provide a stark contrast in Newberry's Haemon, who is advocating neither for the state nor for religious freedom, but for love. Creon's discussion with Haemon comes across as a sentimental heart-to-heart talk ranging widely from Antigone's crime to Creon's ideas of the natures of women and men and, of course, the role of the state. As we know, Haemon's pleas have no effect on Creon, who decides to bury Antigone alive. When Antigone is returned to the stage, she is wearing sackcloth prison clothing. In another deft sequence, Findlay quickly shows the mundane effciency of Creon's police state. Antigone is given a clipboard with papers to sign, and she is patted down while another man in military dress gives her a brief medical examination, looking in her mouth and behind her ears. Her hands are zip-tied together, and a Polaroid mug shot is taken. In three scenes we have seen Antigone transition from a casually dressed college-aged woman to a charge of the state, completely devoid of autonomy. Interestingly, at this point in the production, Antigone and Creon are in very similar positions as neither appears to have a tenable way out of their predicaments, and both are bound to the apparatus of the state. Creon's duty to the state is presented in contrast to Antigone's duty to her brother, but both have become deeply entangled in the state. Jamie Ballard as Tiresias breaks the production's faade of Creon's bunkered state- centric view. Entering to a commotion of thunder, quaking earth, and electrical outages, Tiresias is led onstage by a young boy, who appears unsurprised by the various natural disasters that appear to follow his fortune-telling friend. Tiresias has a large growth that envelops his head and appears to be the source of his blindness and perhaps his powers. Dressed in dirty shorts and a tank top, Ballard performs a Tiresias who is both aware of his powers and is terribly burdened by them. It is clear that his patience for the leaders of Thebes is wearing thin by the time he meets with Creon to explain the fate of Thebes as he had also done for Oedipus and Laius and Jocasta before him. Ballard's screeching, writhing speeches were genuinely hair raising, making Creon's inability to understand the gravity of his situation even fuller of hubris. Of course, Creon does not realize this hubris until he literally has blood on his hands from carrying Haemon's body back to his bunker. Eurydice, Creon's wife, has killed herself in a similarly bloody manner, which makes use of the large glass walls separating the offces in Creon's bunker. Antigone, also dead, is wheeled on. Witnessing the carnage, Creon demands to be arrested. Of course he cannot be arrested for supporting the rule of law. Looking around his bunker, Creon declares that he is nothing. He is an empty suit in the service of the state and, mirroring the punishment meted out on Antigone, as the production ends, Creon is alone, buried alive in his bunker and his position as the living embodiment of the state. 87 I do not have a message. What I do is an architectural arrangement in time and space. Robert Wilson
The visionary stage director Robert Wilson, a master of the theatre avant-garde of the seventies, once more surprised the Spoleto Two Worlds Festival's audience with an extraordinary performance of Frank Wedekind's Lulu. The production was outstanding in terms of theatrical conception, interpretation, stage design, and music. The premiere for Italy took place at the Giancarlo Menotti Teatro Nuovo on 5 July, with the cast of the Berliner Ensemble actors and live rock music composed by Lou Reed. The American stage director arrived in Spoleto the frst time in 1973, and then again for three consecutive years in 2008 (The Threepenny Opera), 2009 (Happy Days and Krapp's Last Tape) and 2010 (Shakespeare's Sonnets). This year he proposed the character that Wedekind made immortal in 1904, scandalizing the contemporary conformists. For this production, Wilson took over several roles, working not only as director, but also as a concept, set and light designer. This performance had already earned an extraordinary success last year at the Avignon Theatre Festival, a success which was repeated at the ffty-ffth Spoleto Festival. The playbill included this year forty-one performances, two flm surveys, a theatre laboratory, three conferences, two competitions, four awards besides an art exhibition. The musical section included several concerts and Benjamin Britten's masterpiece The Turn of the Screw (staged by Giorgio Ferrara, director of the festival, with the Verdi orchestra conducted by Johannes Debus). The ballet section included ten performances; among the performers were the Wiener Staatsballet and the Pacifc Northwestern Ballet. In the theatre section several outstanding names were present: among others, Mikhail Baryshnikov, who interpreted and produced together with Anna Sinyakina the play In Paris, a love comedy on loss by Dmitry Krymov; Giorgio Barberio Corsetti, who offered his interpretation of Kafka's The Castle; Luca Ronconi, who presented in an exceptional performance the results of his laboratory devoted to Pirandello: Looking for an Author. But it was on Wilson, the acclaimed star of contemporary stage, that the audience's attention concentratedand it was not disappointed. Wedekind's Lulu is one of the most important works of the German Expressionism. It is a tragedy in two parts: Earth Spirit and Pandora's Box. The Bob Wilson: Lulu between Theatre, Visual Arts, and Musical Daniele Vianello Robert Wilson. Photo: Lesley Leslie-Spinks. 88 protagonist is an ambitious fower girl who knows how to go ahead in life thanks to her primitive and magnetic charm. One after another, wooers, husbands, and lovers get trapped by her. At the end, comedy turns into tragedy. The protagonist ends up by prostituting herself in the lanes of London, where Jack the Ripper murders her. Lulu, at the same time mistress and conscious object of male desire, victim, and fetish, becomes the tragic modern embodiment of the femme fatale myth, hovering between damnation and freedom. Lulu heads to her death after going through a series of loveless relations: from councillor Goll, a respectable public character accustomed to domestic perversions, a never loved husband, married just out of self-interest; to the editor Dr. Schn, her "savior" and pimp, who takes her out of the street only to turn her into his mistress; over to the painter Schwarz, who becomes her husband, believing she is "pure," and ends up committing suicide; on to her foster father Schigolch, a viscious person; to the composer Alwa, Schn's son, and the lesbian Countess Geschwitz; to Rodrigo Quast, the athlete, suitor and blackmailer; and fnally to the enthusiastic schoolboy Hugenberg. A network of situations that only at times the protagonist seems to have control of. In the end she is in fact dominated by them, ending her life as a cheap street prostitute. The drama, made the object of an opera by Alban Berg, became popular thanks to Pabst's flm with Louise Brooks, who offered one of the sexiest performances in the whole history of cinema. Numberless flms and theatre performances were inspired by this interpretation and have followed since then. Time and Space: Wilson's stage direction seems to move opposite to Wedekind's drama. His Lulu is not the symbol of a troubled and criminal feminine soul, but transforms the seductive protagonist into an old, smiling and sweet lady, from time to time a doll moving rhythmically to the rock music. The poor wooers are a bunch of dreamers, deprived of psychological depth, portrayed by Wilson as bermarionetten, expressionist masks who go mechanically around, robot-like, have chalk-white, grotesque faces like clowns and wear picturesque costumes, which seem to be huge plaster casts. Dialogues become empty, at times frenetic litanies, as if their meaning were irrelevant. The whole performance is a ritual of images and sounds in musical key, where desire and sex appear abstract, observed and analysed from afar in the Brechtian style. Wilson says: "Well, I think in this age of technology that our only chance of beating the machine is to become mechanical, to become automatic. That's why in my theatre works you can't rehearse anything too much. And the more mechanical you become, the freer you become" [Shevtsova, Maria, Robert Wilson, Routledge, 2007: 59]. Wilson does not only alter Lulu's age. His rendering of the plot and the characters of the play seems to be more interested in his own visual and Reed's musical suggestions than in being faithful to the text. In fact, he breaks the play down into a series of separate pictures, of tableaux vivant. Wilson takes quotes from the text which fascinate him and builds up a light-and-sound spectacle, Frank Wedekind's Lulu, directed by Robert Wilson. Photo: Lesley Leslie-Spinks. 89 which runs backwards, announcing from the very beginning what the end will be. As a result, the story loses its narrative rhythm and evolves in fashbacks, as if one observed a series of memories. In the frst part, the Earth Spirit, the structure is respected, while the second, Pandora's Box, dissolves in oneiric, ghost-like scenes. Wilson remarks: "In the European tradition, the text is the most important element on the stage. In my theatre all the elements are equal: the space, the light, the actors, the sound, the texts, the costumes, and the props. I think that is something Brecht tried to bring to the German theatre, too" [Shevtsova, 2007: 48]. The performance, held in English and German, lasts three hours. When the curtain rises, Lulu is already dead. Councillor Goll, her frst lover, introduces the story, as the audience is overwhelmed by the protagonist's scream while she is being killed. The role is interpreted by Angela Winkler, an extraordinary actress who succeeds to embody a death dance in black and white, which begins with her scream from behind the stage and proceeds then in a sequence of suggestive geometric pictures drawn by clear-cut, icy lights. "Everything I do can be seen as dance," says Wilson. Giving up the stereotype of the femme fatale, Wilson makes of Lulu the pivot of destinies that cross each other, not the cause of tragedies. As Wilson himself stated in the press conference, by adopting this "immaterial scene" he succeeded to play with time, going backwards. To quote him: "I did it to respect the formal essence of my theatre work, to be able to observe events afar, without emotional involvements. As a consequence, I severed the plot from any historical and temporal context." He took out a paper and drew a line. "This is the line of time. It allowed me to follow a logical order: I put a black box on top of it which becomes bigger and bigger till it invades the stage." It is clear that Wilson aims at creating at the same time a feeling of fullness and emptiness, darkness and light, movement and standstill, sound and silence in a frame of images and Reed's scathing rock. The result is a nonlinear performance that grows little by little on the stage, adding layers one upon another and thus offering the audience the possibility to follow the plot. A strong choice, not always easy to accept by the audience, especially by those who are not familiar with the play. Talking about the preparation phase of a performance, Wilson reveals: "I begin about one year before to explore the space, I then insert the actors into it, and only after some months the sound." Lulu. Photo: Lesley Leslie-Spinks. 90 Lulu's staging does not literally follow the plot and does not want to imitate life. For Wilson texts should evoke images that do not necessarily reproduce what words say. So, a hotel room becomes a long alley, where cypresses and chandeliers that hang from the sky function as counterpoints. Wilson's exceptional orchestration of lighting creates images of a stylized, icy, and anti-naturalistic universe with incredibly beautiful landscapes. In lighting, Wilson has no rivals amongst contemporary stage directors. "I do everything with light," claims Wilson. "Light determines everything else: It works with the music or confronts it, makes things transparent or lays out zones, orders movement, breaks up the text, and structures the set. It is anything but an extra, it structures and assembles and, consequently, it drives the text and the music. And not the other way round" [Shevtsova, 2007: 69]. Wilson is a multifarious talent immersed in contemporary culture and reality who retains a deep tie with his origins. To paint his scenes he often draws inspiration from the great European painters: "Czanne is my favorite painter. My work is closer to him than to any other artist. [] Czanne simplifed and purifed forms to reveal classical structure and composition. I learned everything form Czanne, his use of color, light, the diagonal, andhow to use the centre and the edges. His images are not framed by the boundaries" [Shevtsova, 2007: 53]. Also Italian painters had an infuence on his work: "If I think of the Italian painters who inspired me, Andrea Mantegna and Giacomo Balla hold a central place." He creates a kind of "visual libretto" on the foor into which actors enter in relation with each other. Later come in text, voices, and music. Angela Winkler recalls: "It is a wonderful way to work: frst with the body, once movement in silence is achieved, text and music enter the stage." He may not have a theory to check or prove, but his work with everyone during the production process is meticulous and exacting. Wilson is certainly one of the directors that have infuenced contemporary theatre the most by reinventing the stage space-temporal coordinates, the image sequences, and the acting style. It is not strange that in 1993 he won the Golden Lyon at the Biennale not thanks to a performance, but to a sculpture: "Wilson is a polymathan architect, designer, painter installation artist, writer, performer, director, and moreyet the diversity of his output is on a continuum" [Shevtsova, 2007: 3]. The director himself stated: "I was studing architecture, but what I was doing was a sort of crossover between architecture and performance, design, and it was a time in the sixties when you had this crossover." The curtain rises on an immaterial stage, where theatre makes space for visual art. The frst scenes pass by one after the other, leaving the audience immersed in a static, suspended atmosphere. The very actors become light points, material elements of an exclusively visual performance. Mask-characters Lulu. Photo: Lesley Leslie-Spinks. 91 stand out on the white background moving among fuorescent tubes. Colors are few. The make-up is characterized by white faces that contrast with dark, straight hair and heavy lipsticks. Houses, streets, all things among which Lulu wanders are shown thanks to a fascinating play of light whichtogether with musicis the backbone of this performance. Music and actors: Typical of Wilson's productions is the cooperation with the great masters of contemporary music: from the legendary performances with Philip Glass to Woyzeck with Tom Waits. Also Makropulos Case, by the Bohemian writer Karel apek, is a musical staged (in Czech) this year at the Naples Festival. It tells the story of a three-hundred-year-old woman, Emilia Marty, a famous singer who has many lives, but never achieves happiness (years ago, this text was staged by Luca Ronconi with a fascinating Mariangela Melato). Lulu, too, is at times a musical. In Wilson's hands Lulu turns into a rock cabaret of the seventies. With his sharp and acid notes that confer rhythm to the actors' mechanical gestures and bewildering voices, Lou Reed takes the place of Kurt Weill, Philip Glass, Tom Waits, and David Byrne: Rather than contrasting the characters, they act as substitutes of their actions. The songs (in English) are performed by an orchestra of six members hidden in the orchestra pit. "I have known Lou Reed since the sixties; he was introduced to me by Andy Warhol. It has been years that I thought of a new work with him, we had several hypotheses, in the end he suggested this drama," says Wilson. He then goes on: "We had spoken for a long time, after Poetry, of a new work. This piece seems to me the right one for his music and his songs." The result has been a performance that merges in a perfect way musical theatre and visual art, going to the roots of the early twentieth century which Karl Kraus defned as "a feminine labyrinth, a trip in a garden in whose complex paths more than one lost the intellect." Wilson, combining Lou Reed's songs to Wedekind's pre- expressionism, transforms in rock star style the self-controlled actors of the Berliner Ensemble that employ Brecht's estrangement theories, all extraordinary interpreters with the unforgettable Ruth Gloss, the only actress from the original company. Several of them have witnessed historical performances staged by some of the main directors of our time. The memory goes to the Threepenny Opera, the supreme masterpiece by the very Wilson, staged four years ago in Spoleto, with the Berliner Ensemble actors, among whom Angela Winkler emerges both as a singer and as an actress. Of her Wilson says: "I have exploited Angela's sweetness. I like her voice, her ability to reproduce the most delicate sounds; it is one of the few Lulu. Photo: Lesley Leslie-Spinks. 92 voices that understands silence's power in contrast with Reed's rock music. Wedekind used to call his theatre anti-naturalistic: Thus, it does not matter whether an old person interprets a youngster's role, in this case the role of a girl who embodies the charm of femininity, victim and at the same time free. Lulu is for me a predictably unpredictable performance, because it deals with an unreal world." About his style of work with the Berliner Ensemble actors, Wilson says: "I let them free to think what they want of the character they have to interpret, but I request them not to reveal it to the audience. I demand them to face the text with an open mind, wondering always not what it means for them, but in itself. In the States, critics maintain that my work is European. When I come to Europe, I am told I am American." The only Italian in the cast, Francesco Maria Cordella, who comes from Strehler's Piccolo Teatro di Milano, shares what Wilson said: "I started working with him in 1996, and this is the ffth time I work in one of his productions. Working with him changed my life. If you embrace his vision, everyone succeeds to express the best of themselves. In the beginning I did not speak English, I entrusted myself to his physical and spiritual communication power. The work he does on silence is the discovery of a new world, but a world that we already know: one has to give oneself totally in. If an actor tries to work with Wilson having as a goal to make personal experiences emerge, he feels blocked. Freedom consists in entrusting oneself to him." Wilson fxes a form, not so as to subordinate the actor to it, but to hand it over to him, as this recent declaration confrms: "Anyway, I give formal directions. I have never, ever in thirty-something years of working in the theatre, I've never told an actor what to think. I've never told them what emotions to express. They're given these very, formal, strict movements and directions. Within that there is a freedom for the actors to fll in the form. The form is not important. It's how you fll in the formthat's what's important" [Shevtsova, 2007: 59]. In Lulu actors appear and disappear as if sorted from a magician's hat, wearing ancient style costumes made of contemporary materials, designed by the inseparable Jacques Reynaud. The global result is a sense of displacement and astonishment in presence of a work that is theatre and at the same time a dream. And, like dreams, it has an absolute rigor while experienced, but when one wakes up one has the perception of something which is on the one hand meaningful and, on the other, hazy, diffcult to contextualize, but of indescribable beauty. Next year, Wilson will be in Italy with two performances: one at the Naples festival with a play by Raffaele Viviani, the other at the Piccolo Teatro di Milano with Odyssey, a co-production with the Greek National Theatre (in Greece on 6 October, in Naples on 2 April). Wilson, referring to Viviani, states: "I do not know which text I will choose, but I am attracted by the idea of doing something different from what I am accustomed to, which shall respect the Neapolitan tradition." About the other performance he says: "I conceive it as a journey between life and death. We are all Ulysses. Ulysses is a human being, not a hero. I will not stage a "historical" performance, it is not my way of looking at theatre." 93 Known for its charm, affuence, and a movie by the same name starring Hugh Grant, the posh Notting Hill district of London is perhaps not the frst place where one would imagine a revolution being staged. Amidst vintage clothing stores, antique shops, and fashionable bars and cafes, the Gate Theatre's 2012 season presented Three Stories of Rebels and Revolutionaries under the title and imperative to Resist! Bookended by a play about a character that bears a striking resemblance to Julian Assange and a production about intergenerational reconciliation among black revolutionaries, Hassan Abdulrazzak's play The Prophet is set on January 28, 2011 in Cairo, Egypt. Three days into what would develop to be called the Egyptian Revolution, we meet Layla and Hisham, an upper-middle class married couple. When the play opens, the character Layla (Sasha Behar), a self-described "lefty," is wistfully considering the fact that she did not wake up thinking about revolution or the Egyptian state. Rather she was perplexed about the state of her pubic hair and speculating as to whether shaving it might improve her marriage, which has grown stagnant. What has also stagnated is her husband Hisham's (Nitzan Sharron) career as a novelist. Hisham, we learn, is having diffculty fnishing his novel. Fortunately, he has an upcoming meeting with a publisher from London, who is known for her ability to help writers fnish their work. The meeting worries Layla, who thinks that Hisham might be unfaithful to her. Voicing her concerns about her husband's rendezvous, Layla leaves for work with the intention of visiting the protests before returning home. Hisham is left sitting at the table with a computer and a bottle of whiskey. The gray and brown set stands in contrast to the streets below, which we glimpse through vibrant and quickly edited video projections played between scenes. The projections consist of video montages of protestors and police and fashes of Cairo seen from vehicles, recorded with shaky handheld cameras and set to a driving Arab dance beat. After each montage we return to the same set, which begins and ends the play as the living room of Layla and Hisham's upper-middle class home. Along the way, however, with some minor rearrangement to the furniture, the dreary walls fll in for a business offce, an upscale hotel, and a torture chamber. The play spends its time exploring these domestic and repressive spaces while the streets of Cairo pulsate with revolutionary energy. With the revolution playing in the background, Hisham and Layla have a series of encounters that eventually bring them back together and save their troubled marriage. The program and much of the advertising for The Prophet claimed the play was written making use of extensive interviews with people in Cairo at the beginning of 2011. Most of this material appears to have ended up in one of Layla's monologues, which stands out from the rest of the play while highlighting Behar's versatility and nuance as a performer. The monologue, which describes Layla's experiences on the streets of Cairo, anchors the play in the historical moment of the Arab Spring. The monologue also highlights Abdulrazzak's talent for fusing pathos and humor, a talent that was on abundant display in his debut play, Baghdad Wedding. Layla describes being chased by brutal riot police, dodging tear gas canisters, the solidarity with others in the street, and the sense that great things were changing in the world even if preoccupied with staying out of harm's way and helping others avoid danger. In a moment of curious lucidity, Layla picks up an empty gas canister that had been lobbed at protestors. She notes that while examining the canister, she thought it would certainly be marked "Made in the USA." It was unmarked, however, leaving her to assume that it was made locally. Layla mused that she usually prefers local produce, but not in such a situation. The offhanded lightness of the observation while surrounded by danger reminds us of her position as a member of the upper-middle class, who chooses to buy locally sourced food and for whom attending the protests is not a necessary action but another choice to be made. Not all of Layla's choices are handled in such a sophisticated manner, however. Before taking to the streets, Layla reports to work at Vodafone's Egyptian headquarters, where her boss, Hani (Silas Carson), has just been visited by the state authorities. A portrait of Mubarak hangs on the back wall, which Hani credits for the pleasantness of the recent visit. Despite Hani's assertions that a Western company like Vodafone stands for ideals such as freedom and democracy, the reason the authorities came to visit is revealed when he asks Layla, as one of the head engineers, to shut down the cellular network. Layla ultimately concedes, but the supposedly weighty The Prophet by Hassan Abdulrazzak, The Gate Theatre, London Eero Laine 94 decision is overshadowed by Hani's bungling firtations and slapstick persona. Carson hams it upat one point fretting ridiculously that the cactus in his offce might contain a secret microphone; at other times pleading with Layla to take a weekend vacation with him. The scene has a disjointed sit-com quality, which attempts to fnd humor in the fact that the ridiculous and bumbling Hani is actually running a wing of a multinational corporation. Carson works well with the material Abdulrazzak gives him in this scene but is much more convincing in his other roles, which he plays with a frightening intensity. While Layla is shrugging off a firtatious boss, shutting down communication grids, and marching in the streets, Hisham is meeting with Suzanne (Melanie Jessop), the literary agent from London. They discuss Hisham's novel in a hotel room, which serves to underscore the sexual tension of the scene. The room is staffed by a bellhop, also played by Carson, who, in a funny bit of meta- theatre, Hisham recognizes as looking vaguely like Layla's boss. The scene echoes Layla's encounter with Hani, except instead of clumsy pick up lines and wacky antics, the seduction in this scene is all double entendres and sultry posturing from Jessop's Suzanne. It is not long before Suzanne has ordered Hisham a drink, and then another and then another. The next time we see Suzanne and Hisham, they are in an underground chamber that is described as similar to the one in Hisham's unfnished novel. Hisham is drunk and is quickly subdued by a prison guard, Metwali, also played by Carson, and tied to a chair. What follows is a gruesome series of scenes of physical and psychological torture in which Hisham is beaten, has his fngernails torn off, is hung from the ceiling and electrocuted, and is made to imagine Layla being raped by Metwali through a graphic monologue. Throughout the torture, Suzanne questions Hisham on his past and his novel, saying she is only doing what she promised, which was to unlock his psyche so that he might fnish his novel. The questioning soon moves to one of Hisham's old acquaintances, an activist who also dated Layla when they were students at college. After being questioned and electrocuted for some time, Hisham is pushed to admit that he was the informer that led the authorities to Layla's ex-boyfriend, who was then tortured and left confned to a wheelchair from injuries. Suzanne pulls a gun and gives Hisham until the count of ten to admit his betrayal, which he does on the count of nine. She then shoots him. In the fnal scene Layla has returned home. After a moment, Hisham enters the living room as well. We learn that he never left. Suzanne called earlier in the day and cancelled the appointment. The whiskey bottle that adorned the stage at the beginning of the day is now empty. The scenes with Hisham were all a dream. The hotel meeting, the questions, the torture were all dramatic devices meant to explore the psyche of Hisham, the novelist with writer's block. The play moves quickly forward to a conclusion as the couple realizes that they love each other after all. Further, inspired by her experiences that day, Layla has made a resolution to have a child and issues Hisham the ultimatum of fathering the child or ending the marriage. The play ends with Layla drawing a connection between the energy of the streets and the to-be-conceived child, which will be brought into a better and brighter world. A marriage is saved for the moment, there are protests on the street, Tahrir Square is only developing, and a baby will be born. Abdulrazzak's play begins and ends in an upper-middle-class living room. The play has an easier time imagining high-class comforts, multinational corporate offces, and torture chambers than the inspiring visions presented by those who risked their lives on the streets and in Tahrir Square. The comfortable but drab looking spaces seem to blur together throughout the play, which perhaps makes sense considering that many of the scenes are revealed to be pseudo-psychological dreams conjured by Hisham's drunken haze. The focus of the play remains on the intimacies of Hisham's and Layla's relationship while the revolution remains offstage, brought on only through video and Layla's messenger-like monologue. Focused on the domestic and insulated against the events on the streets, The Prophet probably could have been set in Notting Hill rather than Cairo. 95 MARVIN CARLSON, Sidney E. Cohn Professor of Theatre at the City University of New York Graduate Center, is the author of many articles on theatrical theory and European theatre history, and dramatic literature. He is the 1994 recipient of the George Jean Nathan Award for dramatic criticism and the 1999 recipient of the American Society for Theatre Research Distinguished Scholar Award. His book The Haunted Stage: The Theatre as Memory Machine, which came out from University of Michigan Press in 2001, received the Callaway Prize. In 2005 he received an honorary doctorate from the University of Athens. His most recent book is The Theatres of Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia with Khalid Amine (Palgrave, 2012). MARIA M. DELGADO is Professor of Theatre & Screen Arts at Queen Mary University of London and co- editor of Contemporary Theatre Review. Her books include "Other" Spanish Theatres: Erasure and Inscription on the Twentieth Century Spanish Stage (MUP 2003), Federico Garca Lorca (Routledge, 2008), Contemporary European Theatre Directors (Routledge, 2010), three co-edited volumes for Manchester University Press, and two collections of translations for Methuen. Her co-edited volume, A History of Theatre in Spain was published by Cambridge University Press in 2012. EERO LAINE is a PhD candidate in the Theatre Program and Film Studies Certifcate Program. His dissertation focuses on the theatricalization of global business practices through a socioeconomic study of the professional wrestling industry. His work has been published in Theatre Journal and Western European Stages, and he is a contributor to the forthcoming volume, American History Through American Sports. Eero teaches acting, theatre history, and introductory courses in the Performing and Creative Arts Department and the Media Culture Department at CUNY's College of Staten Island. GLENN LONEY is Professor Emeritus of Theatre at Brooklyn College and the CUNY Graduate Center. He is Senior Correspondent of NYTheatre-Wire.com and of NYMuseums.com, and Founder/Advisor of Modern Theatre.info, based on his chronology of British and American theatre, Twentieth Century Theater (Facts on File). His ffty-year archive of art, architecture, history, and design photos he has made worldwide is now online at INFOTOGRAPHY.biz. His digitally preserved audio interviews with performing arts personalities will soon be online at ArtsArchive.biz, along with press photos of major theatre, dance, and opera productions. He is the author of numerous books, including his latest, Peter Brook: From Oxford to Orghast. TIINA ROSENBERG is a Professor of Theatre Studies and a gender scholar at the Department for Musicology and Performance Studies at Stockholm University, Sweden. She has been professor of Gender Studies at Stockholm University and at Lund University and has written extensively on performing arts, feminism, and queer theory. Her latest monographs include Bgarnas Zarah: diva, ikon, kult (Queer Zarah: Diva, Icon, Cult, 2009) and Ilska, hopp och solidaritet: Med feministisk scenkonst in i framtiden (Anger, Hope, and Solidarity: Carrying Feminist Performance Art into the Future, 2012). STAN SCHWARTZ is a freelance theatre and flm journalist with a particular interest in Scandinavian theatre and flm. He lives and works out of New York City and has written for such publications as The New York Times, The Village Voice, The New York Sun, Time Out New York, Playbill, and Film Comment. In Sweden, he has written for Dagens Nyheter, Expressen, and Teater Tidningen. DANIELE VIANELLO is Professor of History of Theatre and Performing Arts and Theories and Techniques of Theatre Staging at the University of Calabria (UNICAL). He has taught Theatre History and Performing Arts at the University of Rome La Sapienza from 2002 to 2008. He has published on the Renaissance and contemporary theatre. His main book is L'arte del buffone: Maschere e spettacolo tra Italia e Baviera nel XVI secolo, Roma, Bulzoni, 2005 (Series La Commedia dell'Arte, VII). For several years he collaborated with the cultural activities of the Teatro di Roma, where he also worked as assistant to Italian and foreign stage directors (among others, Mario Martone and Eimuntas Nekroius). Contributors 96 PHILIPPA WEHLE is Professor Emerita of French Language and Culture and Drama Studies at Purchase College, SUNY. She writes widely on contemporary theatre and performance and is the author of Le Thtre populaire selon Jean Vilar (third edition July 2012) Drama Contemporary: France, and Act French: Contemporary Plays from France. She has translated numerous contemporary French language plays and is a Chevalier in the French Order of Arts and Letters. DAVID WILLINGER is Professor of Theatre at The City College, CUNY, and is also on the faculty of the PhD Program in Theatre at the CUNY Graduate Center. He is author of many anthologies of Belgian drama translated to English, all with extensive critical introductions, including: An Anthology of Contemporary Belgian Drama, 1970- 1984 (Whitston), Hugo Claus: Works for the Theatre (CASTA), Ghelderode (Host), Three Fin-de-Sicle Farces (Peter Lang), Theatrical Gestures from the Belgian Avant-Garde (Peter Lang), and The Sacrament and Other Plays of Forbidden Love by Hugo Claus (Susquehanna). His most recent book, The Maeterlinck Reader in collaboration with the late Daniel Gerould came out last year, and he is currently working on one on Ivo van Hove. His articles have appeared in many encyclopedias and such publications as: The Drama Review, Western European Stages, Plays International, The Contemporary Theatre Review, Symposium, and Textyles. He has received awards from the B.A.E.F., the N.E.A., the N.E.H., the Fulbright Foundation, Drama-Logue, the Jerome Foundation, a Rifkind Center Award, as well as an award for Rayonnement des Lettres l'Etranger from the Belgian Ministry of Culture. He is also a theatre director and a playwright. His stage adaptation of a lost novel by William Saroyan will be entitled The Upper Lip, and is slated to open at Theater for the New City in May. PETER ZAZZALI completed his PhD at the CUNY Graduate Center's Theatre Program in the fall of 2012. His research areas include US actor training and the sociology of theatre, with a particular interest in the economics of US theatre in the twentieth and twenty-frst centuries. He is currently on faculty at Colby College. 97 98 Four Plays From North Africa Translated and edited by Marvin Carlson As the rich tradition of modern Arabic theatre has recently begun to be recognized by the Western theatre community, an important area within that tradition is still under-represented in existing anthologies and scholarship. That is the drama from the Northwest of Africa, the region known in Arabic as the Maghreb. We hope that this first English collection of drama from this region will stimulate further interest in the varied and stimulating drama being produced here. It engages, in a fascinating and original way, with such important current issues as the struggle for the rights of women and workers, post-colonial tensions between Maghreb and Europe, and the challenges faced in Europe by immigrants from the Arab world. This volume contains four plays based on the Oedipus legend by four leading dramatists of the Arab world. Tawq Al-Hakims King Oedipus, Ali Ahmed Bakathirs The Tragedy of Oedipus, Ali Salims The Comedy of Oedipus, and Walid Ikhlasis Oedipus as well as Al-Hakims preface to his Oedipus on the subject of Arabic tragedy, a preface on translating Bakathir by Dalia Basiouny, and a general introduction by the editor. An awareness of the rich tradition of modern Arabic theatre has only recently begun to be felt by the Western theatre community, and we hope that this collection will contribute to that growing awareness. The Arab Oedipus Edited by Marvin Carlson Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS This volume contains four modern plays from the Maghreb: Abdelkader Alloulas The Veil and Fatima Gallaires House of Wives, both Algerian, Jalila Baccars Araberlin from Tunisia, and Tayeb Saddikis The Folies Berbers from Morocco. 99 Quick Change: Theatre Essays and Translations Written and translated by Daniel Gerould Quick Change is full of surprises. It is a nicely seasoned tossed-salad of a book concocted by an ironic cookmeister with a sometimes wild imagination. And how many quick changes has he wrought in this book of 28 pieces. The writ- ings range from translations of letters and plays to short commentaries to fully- developed essays. The topics bounce from Mayakovsky to Shakespeare, Kantor to Lunacharsky, Herodotus to Geroulds own play, Candaules, Commissioner, Gorky to Grotowski, Shaw to Mroek, Briusov to Witkacy. From ancient Greeks to Renaissance and Enlightenment Europe, from pre-revolutionary Russia to the Soviet Union, from France and England to Poland. From an arcane discussion of medicine in theatre to a libertine puppet play from 19th century France.
Richard Schechner Quick Change: Theatre Essays and Translations, a volume of previously uncollected writings by Daniel Gerould from Comparative Literature, Modern Drama, PAJ, TDR, SEEP, yale/theater and other journals. It includes es- says about Polish, Russian and French theatre, theories of melodrama and comedy, historical and medical simu- lations, Symbolist drama, erotic puppet theatre, comedie rosse at the Grand Guignol, Witkacys Doubles, Villiers de LIsle Adam, Mrozek, Battleship Potemkin, and other topics. Translations include Andrzej Bursas Count Ca- gliostros Animals, Henry Monniers The Student and the Tart, and Oscar Mtniers Little Bugger and Meat-Ticket. MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 100 Barcelona Plays: A Collection of New Works by Catalan Playwrights Translated and edited by Marion Peter Holt and Sharon G. Feldman The new plays in this collection represent outstanding playwrights of three generations. Benet i Jornet won his rst drama award in 1963, when was only twenty-three years old, and in recent decades he has become Catalonias leading exponent of thematically challenging and struc- turally inventive theatre. His plays have been performed internationally and translated into fourteen languages, including Korean and Arabic. Sergi Belbel and Llusa Cunill arrived on the scene in the late 1980s and early 1990s, with distinctive and provocative dramatic voices. The actor-director-playwright Pau Mir is a member of yet another generation that is now attract- ing favorable critical attention. Playwrights Before the Fall: Eastern European Drama in Times of Revolution Edited by Daniel Gerould. Playwrights Before the Fall: Eastern European Drama in Times of Revolution contains translations of Portrait by Sawomir Mroek (PL); Military Secret by Duan Jovanovi (SI); Chicken Head by Gyrgy Spir (HU); Sorrow, Sorrow, Fear, the Pit and the Rope by Karel Steigerwald (CZ); and Horses at the Window by Matei Viniec (RO). martin e. segal theatre center publications Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 101 Claudio Tolcachirs Timbre 4 Translated and with an introduction by Jean Graham-Jones Claudio Tolcachirs Timbre 4 is one of the most exciting companies to emerge from Bue- nos Airess vibrant contemporary theatre scene. The Coleman Familys Omission and Third Wing, the two plays that put Timbre 4 on the international map, are translated by Jean Graham-Jones and Elisa Legon. Four Works for the Theatre by Hugo Claus Translated and Edited by David Willinger Hugo Claus is the foremost contemporary writer of Dutch language theatre, poetry, and prose. Flemish by birth and upbringing, Claus is the author of some ninety plays, novels, and collections of poetry. He is renowned as an enfant terrible of the arts throughout Europe. From the time he was afliated with the international art group, COBRA, to his liaison with pornographic lm star Silvia Kristel, to the celebration of his novel, The Sorrow of Belgium, Claus has careened through a career that is both scandal-ridden and formidable. Claus takes on all the taboos of his times. MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 102 Czech Plays: Seven New Works Edited by Marcy Arlin, Gwynn MacDonald, and Daniel Gerould Czech Plays: Seven New Works is the rst English-language anthology of Czech plays written after the 1989 Velvet Revolution. These seven works explore sex and gender identity, ethnicity and violence, political corruption, and religious taboos. Using innovative forms and diverse styles, they tackle the new realities of Czech society brought on by democracy and globalization with characteristic humor and intelligence. Jan Fabre Books: I am a Mistake - 7 Works for the Theatre The Servant of Beauty - 7 Monologues Flemish-Dutch theatre artist Jan Fabre has produced works as a performance artist, theatre maker, choreographer, opera maker, playwright, and visual artist. Our two Fabre books include: I am a Mistake (2007), Etant Donnes (2000), Little Body on the Wall (1996), Je suis sang (2001), Angel of Death (2003), and others. Jan Fabre: Servant of Beauty and I am a Mistake - 7 Works for the Theatre Edited and foreword by Frank Hentschker. MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 103 roMANIA After 2000 Edited by Saviana Stanescu and Daniel Gerould Translation editors: Saviana Stanescu and Ruth Margraff This volume represents the first anthology of new Romanian Drama published in the United States and introduces American readers to compelling playwrights and plays that address resonant issues of a post- totalitarian society on its way toward democracy and a new European identity. includes the plays: Stop The Tempo by Gianina Carbunariu, Romania. Kiss Me! by Bogdan Georgescu, Vitamins by Vera Ion, Romania 21 by tefan Peca, and Waxing West by Saviana Stanescu. This publication produced in collaboration with the Romanian Cultural Institute in New York and Bucharest. BAiT epitomizes true international theatrical collaboration, bringing together four of the most important contemporary playwrights from Buenos Aires and pairing them with four cutting-edge US-based directors and their ensembles. Throughout a period of one year, playwrights, translator, directors, and actors worked together to deliver four English-language world premieres at Performance Space 122 in the fall of 2006. Plays include: Women Dreamt Horses by Daniel Veronese; A Kingdom, A Country or a Wasteland, In the Snow by Lola Arias; Ex-Antwone by Federico Len; Panic by Rafael Spregelburd. BAiT is a Performance Space 122 Production, an initiative of Saln Volcn, with the support of Instituto Cervantes and the Consulate General of Argentina in New York. Buenos Aires in Translation Translated and edited by Jean Graham-Jones MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 104 Josep M. Benet i Jornet, born in Barcelona, is the author of more than forty works for the stage and has been a leading contributor to the striking revitalization of Catalan theatre in the post-Franco era. Fleeting, a compelling tragedy-within-a-play, and Stages, with its monological recall of a dead and unseen protagonist, rank among his most important plays. They provide an introduction to a playwright whose inventive experiments in dramatic form and treatment of provocative themes have made him a major gure in contemporary European theatre. Josep M. Benet i Jornet: Two Plays Translated by Marion Peter Holt MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Witkiewicz: Seven Plays Translated and Edited by Daniel Gerould This volume contains seven of Witkiewiczs most important plays: The Pragmatists, Tumor Brainiowicz, Gyubal Wahazar, The Anonymous Work, The Cuttlefish, Dainty Shapes and Hairy Apes, and The Beelzebub Sonata, as well as two of his theoretical essays, Theoretical Introduction and A Few Words About the Role of the Actor in the Theatre of Pure Form. Witkiewicz . . . takes up and continues the vein of dream and grotesque fantasy exemplified by the late Strindberg or by Wedekind; his ideas are closely paralleled by those of the surrealists and Antonin Artaud which culminated in the masterpieces of the dramatists of the Absurd. . . . It is high time that this major playwright should become better known in the English-speaking world. Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 105 Theatre Research Resources in New York City Sixth Edition, 2007 Editor: Jessica Brater, Senior Editor: Marvin Carlson Theatre Research Resources in New York City is the most comprehensive catalogue of New York City research facilities available to theatre scholars. Within the indexed volume, each facility is briefly described including an outline of its holdings and practical matters such as hours of operation. Most entries include opening hours, contact information and websites. The listings are grouped as follows: Libraries, Museums, and Historical Societies; University and College Libraries; Ethnic and Language Associations; Theatre Companies and Acting Schools; and Film and Other. This bibliography is intended for scholars, teachers, students, artists, and general readers interested in the theory and practice of comedy. The keenest minds have been drawn to the debate about the nature of comedy and attracted to speculation about its theory and practice. For all lovers of comedy Comedy: A Bibliography is an essential guide and resource, providing authors, titles, and publication data for over a thousand books and articles devoted to this most elusive of genres. Comedy: A Bibliography Editor: Meghan Duffy, Senior Editor: Daniel Gerould MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $10.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international) 106 The Heirs of Molire Translated and Edited by Marvin Carlson This volume contains four representative French comedies of the period from the death of Molire to the French Revolution: The Absent-Minded Lover by Jean-Franois Regnard, The Conceited Count by Philippe Nricault Destouches, The Fashionable Prejudice by Pierre Nivelle de la Chausse, and The Friend of the Laws by Jean- Louis Laya. Translated in a poetic form that seeks to capture the wit and spirit of the originals, these four plays suggest something of the range of the Molire inheritance, from comedy of character through the highly popular sentimental comedy of the mid-eighteenth century, to comedy that employs the Molire tradition for more contemporary political ends. This volume contains four of Pixrcourts most important melodramas: The Ruins of Babylon or Jafar and Zaida, The Dog of Montargis or The Forest of Bondy, Christopher Columbus or The Discovery of the New World, and Alice or The Scottish Gravediggers, as well as Charles Nodiers Introduction to the 1843 Collected Edition of Pixrcourts plays and the two theoretical essays by the playwright, Melodrama, and Final Reections on Melodrama. Pixrcourt furnished the Theatre of Marvels with its most stunning efects, and brought the classic situations of fairground comedy up-to-date. He determined the structure of a popular theatre which was to last through the 19th century. Hannah Winter, The Theatre of Marvels Pixrcourt: Four Melodramas Translated and Edited by Daniel Gerould & Marvin Carlson MARTIN E. SEGAL THEATRE CENTER PUBLICATIONS Please make payments in US dollars payable to : The Graduate Center Foundation Inc. Mail Checks or money orders to: The Circulation Manager, Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, The CUNY Graduate Center, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY10016-4309 Visit our website at: www.segalcenter.org Contact: mestc@gc.cuny.edu or 212-817-1868 Price US $20.00 each plus shipping ($3 within the USA, $6 international)