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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Fringe 2001 Reviews (11)By an odd coincidence, Euripides' The Trojan Women appeared in a number of guises at this year's Fringe. I chose to see three of them, and it makes sense to keep all three reviews together on this one page, even though I saw them on different days. Kassandra Now! In the Fringe programme, Kassandra Now is described thus: A dramatic montage of the remnants of war, a song of feminine strength, a prayer for tomorrow's children. Slava's 'total theatre' epic where body, voice, dance, drama become one, upholds human dignity and defends freedom's eternal fragility.Sounds pretty damned good, eh? Pity they didn't tell us it was entirely in Swedish apart from one speech! In the company's defence, they did provide a detailed synopsis (difficult to read in the darkened theatre, however) and an understanding of the words was not essential to follow the broad sweep of the action. Too often the description "total theatre" is a misnomer, covering anything which includes a bit of dance or mime: Slava is an outstanding exception. Much of the action is carried forward by a mix of song (absolutely beautiful close harmony singing!), music (performed by the cast) and physical theatre. Much of the time the lighting is from candles and torches held by the company, just boosted slightly by some very subtle stage lighting. It would be fair to say that this is a piece inspired by the Trojan Women, not a version or even an adaptation. It focuses on Cassandra, the prophetess doomed to speak the complete truth but never to be believed. The setting is not Troy: it is anywhere at any time, although the costumes suggest a hybrid of Greek and medieval styles. The programme draws many parallels between the fate of the Trojan women and that of women in the modern Balkans. There are moments of high drama, of deep pathos, and even of laughter, but ultimately I came away unsatisfied because I saw something here that I was sure was brilliant, but I only really understood perhaps a third of what was happening. Bitter Thorns A stilted version of the Euripides' play performed by people who are clearly not actors, although a programme note suggests that they are on a performing arts course. Even though I was close to the front, I had difficulty hearing most of the cast: when there was (live) background music, they were drowned completely. I quite liked the very modern, almost discordant music from the small band (flute, sitar, oboe/cor Anglais, electronics), but it was not enough to boost pedestrian direction and performance. The Trojan Women (A Secular Oratorio) Harvard-Westlake is a Los Angeles high school, and what an impressive bunch they are! There's an orchestra of fifteen, a chorus of thirteen Trojan women (including three dancers), another chorus of eight Greek soldiers, and the cast of nine actors. That they could fit all of these into the tiny space of St John's Hall is quite an achievement in itself. A couple of years ago I saw a one-man show in the same space and it seemed just about the right size for that. However they did manage it, although it meant the stage pictures had to be almost two dimensional. It also meant that the bulk of the audience were sitting to the sides rather than facing the stage head on, as only two rows could be accommodated at the front. I was high up at the side, stage left, and, looking down on the stage, saw little more than a fairly confused mass of bodies, little more than three deep, with the orchestra spread along the back wall behind them. I decided, therefore, that in fairness to the company I should listen rather than watch, but I have to say that this was entirely the wrong venue for such a show. Whoever decided that it was suitable needs a severe kick up the rear end! It did the company no favours. It was my impression (based on reading the play many years ago, so I can't be totally sure) that the text stuck fairly closely to the original, which meant that some of the actors had some difficulty in pitching their performances properly. They were too modern and conversational. The use of the original exclamations of grief ("aiee" and "io") sounded rather strange in the spoken parts, although not in the singing. When it came to the singing, however, it was different. These youngsters obviously have had some classical singing training and were able, generally, to rise above the sound of the orchestra without amplification of any kind. It's such a shame that the were not trained to speak in a more appropriate style. This was particularly obvious in the prologue when Poseidon and Athene introduce the situation. A creditable performance, given the obstacles they faced. Next page - - - Index |
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