Showing posts with label Ibsen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ibsen. Show all posts

Friday, May 29, 2026

Uncle Vanya

This summer, there are two free outdoor productions of Anton Chekhov's Uncle Vanya. Last night, I saw the first of them to begin performances, Hudson Classical Theater Company's staging by the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument in Riverside Park. I can't speak for the other production that hasn't opened yet, but this one is definitely worth seeing.

Hudson Classical has done some great work in recent years, including Henrik Ibsen's The Lady From the Sea, William Shakespeare's Coriolanus, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan's The School for Scandal. This is their 23rd season presenting summer theatre, and Uncle Vanya is the 80th play they've produced. Audience members sit on the stone steps of the Monument, but fortunately there are cushions.

The unique setting adds to this production, since there is a natural backdrop of trees as the characters discuss the disappearing forests of Russia. Dr. Astrov, played by Jeff Dylan Garrett, speaks eloquently of his plans to restore nature to its former grandeur. Unfortunately, the beautiful Yelena, played by Silvia Bond, seems incapable of understanding him. Astrov remains fixed on Yelena, in spite of the attention paid to him by her stepdaughter young Sonya, played by Charlotte Nichols.

At the center of this whirling cast of characters is Sonya's depressed Uncle Vanya, played by Dan McVey. Vanya is also in love with Yelena, though she remains married to Professor Serebryakov, who is played in all his annoying petulance by John L. Payne. The professor, who writes virtually unread books about Realism and Naturalism without understanding a bit about art, remains to this day a biting attack on the inanity of certain academics.

Nicholas Martin-Smith directs the production to run swiftly from scene to scene in an intermission-free performance that gets to the heart of Chekhov's text with such rapidity the audience doesn't mind the cramped legroom on the Monument steps. The show runs through June 21st, so see it before it closes!

Sunday, April 5, 2026

Resurrection Day

In Henrik Ibsen's final play, When We Dead Awaken, the sculptor Rubek creates a self portrait in his statue group "Resurrection Day" which is a figure he calls "remorse for an unrealized life."

Quite a bit of that "remorse for an unrealized life" can be seen onstage in The Last Days of Downtown, Matthew Gasda's new play now in previews at the Center for Theatre Research (formerly the Brooklyn Center for Theatre Research).

Since the play is still in previews (officially opening April 17th), I won't say too much, other than that you should get your tickets now. The piece takes place in the downtown apartment of independent filmmaker Terry, who is simultaneously celebrating his 40th birthday and preparing to travel for a premiere of his latest movie.

When Terry leaves, his apartment gets taken over by Michael, the young star of his film, who uses the director's pad to throw parties and bed a series of women. Throughout the play, a crowd of actors appear onstage in a succession of scenes involving sex, drinking, vaping, and more onstage cocaine use than in anything I've seen since Stereophonic.

At one point, a character shares the story of an experience he had at a dive bar where for one brief moment, everyone watching the performance of an amateur band began to live in the present and just enjoy the music--before they all went back to the chatter of everyday life.

The Last Days of Downtown invites us to live in that present, so that, unlike Ibsen's characters, when we awake on Resurrection Day, we won't "see that we've never lived."

Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Top Shows of 2025

Anyone who remembers the New York theatre scene from before the dreaded covid shutdown knows that this city has yet to fully recover. Theatre today is simply less ambitious, less imaginative, and less interesting than it was before 2020.

Still, there are some exceptions. Last year, there were a few remarkable shows that made my annual top-ten list, including Broadway's re-imagining of The Great Gatsby and a new production of the Giuseppi Verdi classic La Forza del Destino at the Metropolitan Opera.

This year, I have a new list of the best shows I saw in New York City that opened since January 1st. That doesn't include some of the excellent productions I saw outside of New York, including Sunday in the Park with George in Pittsburgh or Dear Liar in Niagara-on-the-Lake, not to mention my own workshop of After an Earlier Incident at Theatre of Western Springs.

10. Nongod - This trio of one-act plays by Leon Lone was a pleasant surprise. Seeing ancient deities from Egypt, Russia, and Mexico come to life on stage turned out to be both funny and emotionally engaging.

9. The Wild Duck - Ibsen classics other than A Doll House or Hedda Gabler are few and far between in the U.S., so I was delighted that Theatre for a New Audience announced they would reviving The Wild Duck. Maaike Laanstra-Corn gave a striking portrayal of Hedwig.

8. The Lady From the Sea - What was I saying about Ibsen classics? Even better was Susane Lee's adaptation of The Lady From the Sea, performed appropriately right on the Hudson River. Lee reset the play in Canada, but kept its spirit, and the outdoor venue was delightful.

7. Pygmalion - Gingold Theatrical Group always does a good job with their shows, and this year's production of Bernard Shaw's most famous comedy was no exception. Synnøve Karlsen, now famous as young Cassie from television's Miss Austen, made her New York debut as the irrepressible Eliza Doolittle.

6. Kowalski - Gregg Ostrin's play about an imagined meeting between Tennessee Williams and Marlon Brando was a hit Off-Broadway at The Duke on 42nd Street. There have been plans to move it to Broadway. If that happens, you'll want to see it. In addition to probing into the creation of the American classic A Streetcar Named Desire, it's a great vehicle for two fine actors.

5. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay - While it's true that the second act wasn't as good as the first, this new opera based on the Michael Chabon novel of the same name still wowed audiences, in part due to sets and projections by 59 Studio. Fortunately, it's coming back this spring, so if you missed it in the fall, you can still catch it at the Met beginning February 17.

4. Wine in the Wilderness - Classic Stage Company had been planning this revival of the classic Alice Childress drama for quite some time. With direction by LaChanze, it hit all the right notes. The set designed by Arnulfo Maldonado wrapped the audience around the action, making the riot outside feel shockingly close, and Grantham Coleman once again gave an amazing performance.

3. The Last Bimbo of the Apocalypse - Michael Breslin and Patrick Foley's new musical perfectly channels pop music from earlier in the century while telling a story of the Internet stardom (and helldom) of today. The New Group deserves kudos for bringing it to Off-Broadway audiences, and for featuring some incredibly gifted young performers, including Patrick Nathan Falk, Keri René Fuller, Luke Islam, and Milly Shapiro.

2. Dead Outlaw - An even better new musical that premiered this year on Broadway (transferring from an Off-Broadway run last year) was Dead Outlaw, which tells the fascinating real-life story of Elmer McCurdy, who literally couldn't pull off a crime to save his life. Itamar Moses, David Yazbek, and Erik Della Penna were able to hilariously tell the tale while at the same time evoking scenes of sheer pathos. Like Yazbek's Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, this show deserves a long afterlife with regional and community theatres.

1. Moby-Dick - The best show I saw this year, though, has to be Jake Heggie's opera Moby-Dick, which made its Met premiere earlier this year. Though the piece first premiered at the Dallas Opera 15 years ago, this was the first time New York audiences were able to see and hear it live. Having written my own stage adaptation of the Herman Melville novel, I have lots of opinions on how to best stage the story, but the union of sets and projections seemed flawless in this staging, and the music is some of Heggie's best. The tenor Brandon Jovanovich also made a profound Captain Ahab.

That's the list. I know! Two operas and only a single work from the Broadway stage, and that one which premiered Off-Broadway first. The dynamics of New York theatre are certainly changing.

Friday, November 21, 2025

Henry Arthur Jones

The British dramatist Henry Arthur Jones has fallen out of fashion now, but he was once extraordinarily popular.

I've previously written about The Silver King, a melodrama Jones co-wrote with Henry Herman that opened at the Princess's Theatre in 1882, starring Wilson Barrett as a reformed drunkard who makes his fortune in a Nevada silver mine.

Two years later, Jones collaborated again with Herman in a bizarre reworking of Henrk Ibsen's A Doll House called Breaking the Butterfly. The play sought to give the drama a happy ending, in which the husband offers to ruin himself for his wife before the difficulties are resolved without sacrifice.

That's not what happens in Jones's 1894 play The Masqueraders, though. The play famously staged a card game in which one man won the wife and child of another. He then whisks his new "wife" off to the Alps, thinking to raise a family abroad with the woman he loves. Ultimately, though, the woman's sister convinces him that this plan would render her impure in the eyes of her child. Instead he undertakes a journey to Africa in which he will most likely perish.

Africa seems to have been a convenient place for Jones to send men off to once their romantic lives grew too complicated. He did the same thing at the end of his 1897 play The Liars. In that play, Edward Falkner is in love with a married woman, Lady Jessica Nepean. Her domineering husband Gilbert nearly drives her into Falkner's arms, but in the final act, the comical Sir Christopher Deering whisks Falkner off to Africa to mediate with some warring chieftains, leaving Lady Jessica to return to her husband.

However, The Liars should not be confused with Jones's later play The Lie, which was made into a (now lost) silent film. Perhaps when you write as many plays as he did, you have to start cycling back through title ideas.

Monday, September 22, 2025

The Wild Duck

Last night, I saw Theatre for a New Audience's production of Henrik Ibsen's The Wild Duck. If you haven't seen it yet, the show is definitely worth checking out before it closes on Sunday.

Pettersen, the old hand at the Werle mansion, is the character who introduces us to the action, and is usually played by a man. In this production, directed by Simon Godwin, the role is played by Katie Broad as one of the maids in the household, which makes perfect sense.

In the original play, the hired waiter Jensen appears to be there just to get Pettersen talking, so it would normally be thrown away on a performer like Alexander Sovronsky, who has composed music for a host of shows, including the excellent Mother of the Maid. Fortunately, Sovronsky sticks around for the rest of the show, periodically providing live violin music as the action advances.

After the first act melts away, the posh Werle home is replaced by the humbler abode of the Ekdal family, nominally headed by Hjalmer (Nick Westrate). The household is really run, though, by his wife Gina (Melanie Field) and teenage daughter Hedvig (Maaike Laanstra-Corn). Hjalmer instead spends his time in a fantasy-land upstairs in the loft where he and his father (David Patrick Kelly) keep a number of animals, including the titular wild duck.

To call the duck a metaphor is insufficient, since much of the action of the play hinges on Mr. Werle's estranged son Gregers (Alexander Hurt) speaking about the duck metaphorically. Hedvig, who loves the duck more than anything else, catches on to the notion that the duck might be a metaphor, taking the idea even further than Gregers intends. This, as they say, has consequences.

If the world of the loft is a sort of fantasy heaven, the downstairs apartment could be a hell. It is occupied by the cynical Dr. Relling, played by Matthew Saldivar who memorably portrayed Alphonse Mucha in Bernhardt/Hamlet. Relling's roommate, the demonic Molvik, never appears in this adaptation of the play penned by David Eldridge.

Toward the end of the play last night, the actors skipped right over one of the greatest lines in the piece, though I'm not sure if that was Eldridge's doing or an actor's flub. In any case, it was the only false note in what was otherwise a splendid production.

Friday, August 8, 2025

The Lady From the Sea

When I found out that Hudson Classical Theater Company would be performing an adaptation of Henrik Ibsen's The Lady From the Sea, I knew I'd want to see it.

I missed opening weekend since I was at the Shaw Symposium in Canada, which is perhaps ironic, since this adaptation by Hudson Classical's artistic director, Susane Lee, resets Ibsen's play in Canada, in a town along the Saint Lawrence.

Well, I finally caught up with the production last night, and I wasn't disappointed. Hudson Classical is best known for their outdoor productions of plays by William Shakespeare, including standout stagings of Richard II and Coriolanus. In addition to their recent Shakespearean triumphs, they did a much better job adapting Ibsen than some other productions I've seen recently, and Lee's script is faithful to the spirit of the original play.

Aya Ibaraki stars as Ellida, the second wife of the esteemed physician Dr. Wangel, played by Quint Spitzer. Ellida feels trapped between two worlds, longing for the freedom of the sea, as personified by a mysterious stranger (Drew Brock Baker), but also feeling gratitude and affection for her husband and the small town filled with summer tourists where she lives with him and his family.

Yes, it's definitely his family, not hers. Ellida's two stepdaughters don't exactly go all out to make her feel at home. The younger daughter Hilda, played by Katrina Dykstra, even plays a cruel joke on her, leaving Ellida to awkwardly accept flowers as if it's her birthday. The elder daughter Bolette, played by Maya Small, is more sympathetic, but still has trouble feeling much of anything for her stepmother.

The play relies on a mysterious sense of the supernatural, embodied by the stranger from Ellida's past who returns to collect on a promise made long ago. The production is skillfully directed by Nicholas Martin-Smith, so be sure to see it before it closes on August 17th.

Friday, July 25, 2025

Missing the Magic

I'm in Niagara-on-the-Lake for the Shaw Symposium. Today, Dorothy Hadfield, the President of the International Shaw Society, welcomed us, and then Pragna Desai, Director of Community Engagement & Outreach for the Shaw Festival, gave a keynote address.

The Shaw Festival has a mandate to perform plays from the lifetime of Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) and works in dialogue with those plays. The theatre is currently raising $150 million to replace the Royal George Theatre and to build two new campuses: an Artists' Village to house theatre professionals and a Center for Lifetime Creativity, which will serve the entire community.

During the keynote address, we also heard about another new initiative, Every Kid in Niagara, which has the goal of bringing all of the students in the Niagara region to see plays at the Shaw Festival at least twice over the course of their academic careers. In order to do this, the festival is partnering with local buses to ensure they have the vehicles (and drivers) necessary. The festival also plans to increase its programing for students.

After the keynote, we headed to the Niagara-on-the-Lake Museum, where Jennifer Buckley and Christopher Wixson led a discussion on Shaw's relationship to the play Peer Gynt by Henrik Ibsen, and how that same play inspired contemporary dramatist Will Eno to write his adaptation, Gnit. Eno's Gnit premiered at Actors Theatre of Louisville in 2013 and is now receiving its Canadian premiere at the Shaw Festival. Sadly, the magical play that inspired Shaw had the life sucked out of it by Eno's adaptation.

I just got back from seeing Gnit, which reminded me of Donmar Warehouse's production of Ibsen's The Lady From the Sea in a new version by Elinor Cook. In that version, the supernatural overtones of the mysterious sailor were eliminated, seriously weakening the play. Peer Gynt doesn't just have supernatural overtones, though. It is a full-on supernatural fantasy complete with trolls, the devil, and other mystical figures appearing on stage. Like Cook, Eno rationalizes everything, leaving only the husk of a once great play.

Incidentally, the Hudson Classical Theater Company in New York is opening their own adaptation of The Lady From the Sea this month, penned by Executive Artistic Director Susane Lee. I have higher hopes for that production. Until I see it, I'll have to content myself with other plays the Shaw Festival has on offer: Shaw's Major Barbara and the two-hander Dear Liar which dramatizes the writer's correspondence with Pat Campbell.

Tomorrow, I'll be seeing both of those, and attending talks by noted Shavians as the Shaw Symposium continues!

Friday, June 7, 2024

Bernard Shaw's Ireland

Today was the last day of the International Shaw Society's conference on Bernard Shaw's Ireland, held by University College Dublin.

On Wednesday, Nelson O'Ceallaigh Ritschel delivered a keynote on Shaw and the 1920s London-Irish Theatre. He noted that the 1919 revival of Arms and the Man began a post-war renewal of interest in Shaw's work on the London stage. This continued throughout the decade with frequent revivals, and in 1929 the Court Theatre premiered a new Shaw play, The Apple Cart.

Next, David Clare chaired a panel on Shaw and Socialism that included Marie Hewelt discussing Pygmalion and Eamon Jordan talking about Widowers' Houses. Audrey McNamara chaired a second session that included Lisa Robertson on John Bull's Other Island and Kumar Parag on Candida. We also had a performance of the discarded defense Shaw wrote for the Irish rebel Roger Casement, and in the evening Paddy O'Keefe performed his one-man show Shaw Invites You.

Thursday morning, Lauretta Lenker delivered a plenary on Shaw and Virginia Woolf, who both coincidentally lived at different times at 29 Fitzroy Square in London. She spoke about Woolf's novel Between the Acts and Shaw's drama Saint Joan. That play was featured prominently in the next talks given by Doborah Payne and Ellen Dolgin, as did Shaw's Geneva. After we broke for lunch, Dorothy Hadfield delivered a second plenary on Charlotte Shaw, and then we heard from Brad Kent and Loic Wright.

I presented my own paper on John Bull's Other Island on Friday morning, accompanied by Mary Christian who discussed The Dark Lady of the Sonnets and Julie Sparks who spoke on Shaw's sequel to A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen. Tony Roche then delivered a plenary on how Dion Boucicault influenced Shaw, who in turn influenced Brian Friel's play Translations. In the afternoon, both Vishnu Patel and Tae-Yong Eom discussed post-humanism in Back to Methuselah.

The venue for the conference was the Museum of Literature in Ireland, which had some great displays. Tomorrow, I look forward to seeing some of Dublin and then catching a play at the famed Gate Theatre.

Monday, October 9, 2023

Jon Fosse's Nobel Prize

The Nobel Committee recently announced it was awarding the world's top honor for literature to Norwegian playwright and novelist Jon Fosse.

Though Fosse is sometimes compared to the most famous of Norwegian dramatists, Henrik Ibsen, their work has very little in common. Of course, Ibsen never won the Nobel prize, which in 1903 went to his rival Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson.

Instead, Fosse's work is closer to the Symbolists who were awarded Nobel prizes for literature in the 1910s, including Maurice Maeterlinck and Rabindranath Tagore, and even closer to more recent Absurdist authors who have won the prize, such as Samuel Beckett and Harold Pinter.

I saw Fosse's play A Summer Day when Rattlestick Playwrights Theater produced it at the Cherry Lane Theater in 2012. It follows the life of a woman, portrayed by two actresses onstage, one younger and one older, as she looks out a window. The younger version of the character is waiting for her husband to return from a trip out on his boat. The older version continues to stare out the window, though she knows he will never return.

What made the play interesting was the way the character embraced her grief, letting go of hope in a way that was almost joyful. Perhaps there's something about glorying in depression that seems particularly Scandinavian.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

The Silver King

Henry Arthur Jones is famous for championing a new, more serious form of drama for the London stage, but early in his career he wrote a good old-fashioned English melodrama called The Silver King.

Jones collaborated on the play with Henry Herman. The actor-manager Wilson Barrett directed the piece and took on the leading role of Wilfred Denver when the play first opened at the Princess's Theatre in 1882.

The first act shows Denver as a drunkard and a gambler, arguing angrily with Geoffrey Ware, who formerly wooed Denver's wife Nelly. A group of robbers infiltrate Ware's apartment, and when the drunken Denver arrives, they frame him for Ware's murder.

One of the interesting aspects of the play is that Denver actually thinks himself guilty. When he arrives at Ware's apartment, angry and looking for a fight, he is assaulted by the thieves, who knock him out with chloroform. When Denver wakes up, he sees his fired revolver and the dead body of Ware. The logical conclusion that he draws is that he killed Ware.

In the second act, Denver tries to escape London by train, though some of the passengers seem suspicious of him. He leaps from the train, injuring his foot in the process, but the dangerous jump turns out to be a good move. The train, we later hear, was subsequently involved in a fiery accident. The murder suspect Denver was reported to be on board and is presumed to have died and burned up in the crash.

This turn of events, with Denver ending the second act pledging to be a new man, was the idea of Jones's collaborator, Herman, who appears to have not written much else of the play. Barrett also claimed to have written some of the piece, but most of the play was the brainchild of Jones, including the scenes of a cruel landlord attempting to evict Nelly and her children in the play's third act.

Jones went on to write an adaptation of Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House called Breaking a Butterfly, again with Herman as a collaborator. Later plays by Jones included Saints and Sinners, Judah, The Crusaders, and The Masqueraders.

The Silver King, which takes its name from the fact that the reformed Denver later makes a fortune in a Nevada silver mine, went on to be filmed multiple times. Its exciting and sensationalistic plot was perfect for the movies.

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Getting Married

On May 12, 1908, Bernard Shaw premiered a new play called Getting Married at the Haymarket Theatre in London.

Shaw subtitled the piece "A Disquisitory Play" which means it relates to a disquisition. Okay, so what the heck is a disquisition? A legal term borrowed from Norman French, a disquisition is an inquiry. Appropriately enough, the play inquires into the state of marriage and how it can be reformed.

Recently, Justine Zapin had an article in the journal Shaw comparing Getting Married to Henrik Ibsen's Ghosts. On the surface, at least, the two plays could not be more different. Ghosts is a painful tragedy, while Shaw's comedy sparkles and bubbles without ever feeling terribly serious. However, both pieces look back to classical drama. Ghosts reworks the Oresteia of Aeschylus, while Shaw stated in a note with the published text that "the Greek form" of unified action "is inevitable" in a play like Getting Married where "drama reaches a certain point in poetic and intellectual evolution."

Shaw's play is closer to the work of Aristophanes than that of Aeschylus, as it focuses on the happy idea that two young people might find out right before their wedding how unjust England's marriage laws are and refuse to go through with the ceremony. Just as Aristophanes often provides plucky female characters, Getting Married presents the audience with a number of women willing to challenge conventional ideas. Zapin's article focuses on three: Lesbia Grantham, Mrs. George Collins, and Edith Bridgenorth.

Lesbia, as her name might suggest, rejects men entirely and embraces spinsterhood rather than marriage. Mrs. George (as she is refereed to in the play) is a different matter. A powerful mayoress who also has humble roots in the tradesman class, she maneuvers to solve everyone's marital difficulties. When her practical-mindedness fails to untie the Gordian knot of modern marriage, however, she enters a trance-like state and begins to prophesize like a pythoness from ancient Greece:

When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? when all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough?

There is seemingly no answer to Mrs. George's question, yet to adopt the attitude of Lesbia will lead only to barrenness. It is up to Edith Bridgenorth to work out a compromise between the imperfect state of marriage in our society and the unattainable ideals marriage claims for us. Zapin interprets Edith's surname as indicating that she is literally a bridge to the future.

The play was not a success when it was originally staged, but it later made its Broadway debut at the Booth Theatre in 1916, running for 112 performances.

Tuesday, May 31, 2022

Jacinto Benavente

I'm back now from the Shaw conference in Cáceres, Spain. While I was in Madrid, I came across a monument to Jacinto Benavente in Retiro Park.

In the United States, the most famous Spanish dramatist of the 20th century is Federico García Lorca, so why doesn't he have a major memorial in Madrid?

Well, there is the matter of Lorca being murdered by his own government, but the larger issue is that those writers who ultimately gain the most respect internationally are not necessarily the ones who are honored in their home countries.

That's not to say that Benavente wasn't recognized outside of Spain. In fact, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1922. But Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson also won that prize, while his fellow Norwegian dramatist, Henrik Ibsen, did not. Momentary recognition does not always translate into lasting fame.

So who was this Benavente guy, anyway? A native of Madrid (unlike Lorca, who was born outside of Granada), Benavente was known for writing in a Realist style. His 1913 play The Unloved Woman has been repeatedly adapted to film. An earlier play, The Bonds of Interest, is frequently cited as his masterpiece, and is his most frequently staged work.

But is it staged as frequently as Lorca's Blood Wedding or The House of Bernarda Alba? Probably not. Sometimes, life just isn't fair.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Postmodernism

Just as the failed revolutions of 1848 brought about the climax and end of Romantic movements across Europe, the year 1968 brought a climax of the dreams and ambitions of the entire world in the post-war era, as well as the collapse of those dreams for very many.

In January of that year, the Prague Spring began in Czechoslovakia, when the liberal reformer Alexander Dubček became head of the country's Communist Party, promising "Socialism with a human face" and lifting censorship. The wave of liberalization led to uprisings in Poland and other Eastern European countries, as more and more people sought liberation from the oppressive policies of the past.

In the United States, Robert Kennedy launched a campaign for president that drew millions of young, idealistic voters. Meanwhile, his ally Martin Luther King Jr. was leading a civil rights movement that continued to be peaceful, in spite of provocations by white supremacists.

But if the year promised freedom, what it ultimately delivered was death. The bloody Tet Offensive in Vietnam left a huge number of casualties. Both King and Kennedy were assassinated. Student protests in Paris devolved into riots that failed to bring about meaningful political change. Across the United States, many cities were literally burning with social strife, and authorities tried only to contain the violence, unable (and in the view of many observers, unwilling) to stop it.

The Prague Spring collapsed, and days later, so did the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, as police clashed with anti-war protestors. The subsequent election of Richard Nixon as President of the United States and installment of Soviet tanks throughout Eastern Europe ensured that violence, repression, and decay would continue.

Though the following year, 1969, saw the first human beings land on the moon, what should have been a victory for all humanity came in the wake of so much chaos that many people were unsure of what humanity's future would really be. Modernism, which had thrived after World War II, seemed hopelessly naïve with its optimism of unending horizons and positive change.

Instead, art from around 1970 on is sometimes labelled postmodern, since it embraces skepticism and irony rather than grand gestures and sweeping narratives. Postmodern art engages with art from the past, but in a way that is eclectic, borrowing snatches and pieces of past art, but deliberately not synthesizing it together into a unified, comprehensive whole. The very notion of totality or universalism becomes a bitter joke in the hands of postmodern artists.

Postmodernism can be seen in architecture, for instance the AT&T skyscraper in New York which is topped by a non-functional broken pediment. It can be seen in photography, for instance in the work of Cindy Sherman, whose "Untitled Film Stills" series shows the photographer herself dressed up in various costumes, looking like she is in a series fictional movies. Postmodern sculptors like Jeff Koons use grand techniques to immortalize items of kitsch, producing such objects as giant stainless steel balloon animals. 

Perhaps the defining element of postmodernism is its unwillingness (and perhaps inability) to get away from the past it always confronts. The postmodern feminist artist Judy Chicago spent years assembling "The Dinner Party" which includes 39 place settings at a giant triangular table, each place setting painstakingly handcrafted to honor a different woman from history, including the playwrights Hrotsvitha, Hildegard of Bingen, and Virginia Woolf.

In theatre, postmodernism can be seen in the work of such playwrights as Tom Stoppard, Heiner Müller, and Janusz Glowacki, each of whom wrote plays that deconstruct the most famous work in the dramatic canon: William Shakespeare's Hamlet. Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 1966, shifting the play's center of attention from Hamlet to two minor characters. The play's dialogue is deeply influenced by the work of Samuel Beckett, but its playfulness marks it as a work of postmodern drama rather than the serious modernism practiced by Beckett. Müller's 1977 play Hamletmachine goes even further in its rejection of the conventions of drama, questioning even the importance of an author at all. In 1982, Glowacki premiered Fortinbras Gets Drunk, which takes a Stoppard-like approach of focusing on a minor character from Hamlet, but to probe political issues as much as existential ones. All three writers went on to create other postmodern works, including Stoppard's Travesties, which reworks Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, Müller's Quartet based on the Pierre Choderlos de Laclos novel Dangerous Liaisons, and Glowacki's The Fourth Sister, which sends up Chekhov.

The British writer Harold Pinter was a close associate of Beckett, and his early works, The Birthday Party, The Caretaker, and The Homecoming, all exhibit the anxieties of post-war theatre of the absurd. Dubbed "comedies of menace," these plays rely on seemingly mundane dialogue and pregnant pauses to create an atmosphere of dread that reflected the unspoken horror of the new nuclear age. In the 1970s, though, Pinter turned in a new direction. Influenced by the postmodern turn toward skepticism and questioning, Pinter wrote a series of plays that retained the sometimes comic and sometimes tragic atmosphere of his earlier plays, but that delved into the nature of memory of past events. In Old Times, three people tell stories about their past together, sometimes revising their versions of the story, and sometimes contradicting the versions of other characters. Pinter's 1975 play No Man's Land depicts two older men recalling their past lives together, but the piece gets us to not only question whether the two men ever met in the past, but also whether the men themselves know the truth. One of Pinter's most commercially successful works, Betrayal, tells the story of a marital affair, but in reverse chronological order, from end to beginning.


Another postmodern British playwright, Caryl Churchill, first rose to prominence with Cloud 9, an attack on Victorian colonialism and sexual repression that implies a link between the two. Her 1982 play Top Girls utilized overlapping dialogue and out-of-chronology scenes to critique the way women sacrifice themselves and one another to get ahead in the world. Written in the wake of the election of the rightwing politician Margaret Thatcher as the first female prime minister of the United Kingdom, the play celebrates feminism while at the same time critiquing it. Churchill's work sometimes appropriates figures from folk belief to discuss contemporary issues, as is the case in Mad Forest and The Skriker, but the hallmark of her plays is an unending drive to experiment. Her fragmented 2012 play Love and Information contains more than 100 characters in dozens of scenes, many of them less than a minute long.


One manifestation of postmodernism in drama has been the so-called Theatre of Images. While most traditional theatre has been concerned with language (one of the six elements of drama laid out by Aristotle), the Theatre of Images replaces linguistic texts with a procession of images that are not necessarily aligned with any verbal meaning. Directors such as Richard Foreman, Lee Breuer, and Robert Wilson are often identified as artists working in a Theatre of Images rather than a theatre of words. Foreman is influenced by modernist writers like Gertrude Stein, but he has also tried to make audience members active participants in the creation of theatre, as he did with his 1976 play Rhoda in Potatoland. He frequently directs plays with non-professional actors, preferring their simplistic expressions over the mannered performances of trained actors.

Breuer co-founded the avant-garde Mabou Mines Theater Company in 1970 (together with JoAnne Akalaitis, Philip Glass, Ruth Maleczech, Frederick Neumann, and David Warrilow). With Mabou Mines, he has re-imagined numerous classic plays from the canon. His production of Gospel at Colonus used gospel music to re-introduce the feeling of the sacred into Sophocles' play Oedipus at Colonus. Breuer's production of Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House portrayed Nora as physically towering over the men in the play, accentuating the absurdity of her situation. His production of Peter and Wendy used Japanese-style puppetry techniques to tell the story of Peter Pan, and has played to adult and child audiences alike.

The term Theatre of Images is perhaps most associated with Wilson, who borrows from different media, cultures, and historical time periods to create eclectic pieces of theatre that usually have no discernible plot. He collaborated with the composer Philip Glass to create the 1976 opera Einstein on the Beach. Because of the length of the opera (more than five hours with no intermission) audience members were invited to come and go as they pleased, selecting which parts they chose to pay attention to and which parts to ignore. For the 1984 Summer Olympic Games in Los Angeles, Wilson planned a massive 12-hour-long performance called the CIVIL warS: A Tree Is Best Measured When It Is Down, but the Olympic Arts Festival cancelled it. Since then, Wilson has frequently worked outside of the United States.

Some scholars have labeled the Theatre of Images as postdramatic, since it eschews plot in favor of creating an overall mood or feeling. Rather than creating a narrative that tells a story, postdramatic theatre focuses on physical phenomena that audiences experience directly. While this style of theatre has its roots with modernist playwrights like Beckett, as well as postmodern writers like Müller, Pinter, and Churchill, it attempts to outgrow the playwright entirely. It renders the text as merely one component of a performance, and usually not even a very important one. Postdramatic performance stretches theatre to its limits, and because of that, most audiences have tended to avoid it, opting instead for more commercial theatrical ventures.

Friday, January 11, 2019

Signed and Delivered


While in London, I wandered into the Bookshop Theatre and made some interesting finds. One of them was an acting version of Henrik Ibsen's play The Pretenders published for the Yale University Dramatic Association in 1907.

The translation they used was that by the British theatre critic William Archer, who was one of Ibsen's early champions. Growing up, Archer had spent time with family in Norway, so he was able to read Ibsen in the original and translate his plays into English.

Most intriguing to me was the bookplate, which states that the volume was presented to London's Academy of Dramatic Art by none other than Mr. William Archer himself in October 1908. The handwriting looks like other samples of Archer's writing that I've seen digitized. So is this actually a signed copy of a translation by one of the most important theatre critics of the turn of the century? It looks like it.

According to the book's introduction by William Lyon Phelps, the Yale Dramatic Association was founded to "produce only dramas of great literary value, and only those which were seldom or never played on the regular professional stage." Well, that certainly sounds like Ibsen's The Pretenders! Few people perform the play even now, in spite of Ibsen's considerable reputation.

Phelps goes on to say that on January 19, 1907, the Association presented Arthur Wing Pinero's comedy The Amazons to a crowded theatre. The play was such a success and made such a profit that they were then able to present The Pretenders in the spring. The play had five performances, one in Hartford, two in New York City, and two in New Haven. Phelps claims this was the first time the play was performed on an American stage.

I was pleased to pick up the volume, which has now made the long journey back to America.