What to See and When: a Medea Reprise

I am still struggling with the life-long question about timing … when is it the right time to introduce children to certain forms of art. And probably, more important, the question should be about when to introduce them to certain themes in art. The question emerged again when I was going to see Medea. 

I was remembering that Catherine took her kids to see Hansel and Gretel opera and that someone in the audience chastised her at the intermission. The theme was too dark they thought. And perhaps it was, for the setting had been changed to a Germany during WW II, something Catherine probably hadn’t been aware of.

So? While I was going to the performance of Medea by myself, I had been thinking, what if Doral and Anita’s kids were still here? Which of them would I want to take?  The answer is probably, ... all.  And what would I say to prepare them? Would my reading of the reviews have been enough?

So when Rebecca said she had seen the performance, … I was glad to have someone to bounce these ideas off of. Rebecca, did you take your kids? Or did you get your friend, Stacey, to go along? Or … were you solo?

When the show was over, when the last credits had rolled by, and when most of the patrons had left the theatre, Kelvin turned to me and said, "I can't move."

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

I was just messing with him. Taking me on the literal level and fearing that I might act on that information he slowly rose to his feet and reached for his walker. But I knew what he meant.

That had been one of those shows, after which I think, “This might have been the best piece of theatre I have seen in my whole life.  Stunning in every detail.”

First of all, to be specific, I was interested in how the director would address that question above – the one of warning the audience that the theme was dark and difficult.

 The answer was in the text, in the initial warning by the nurse that what we were about to see was not for the faint-hearted and that we should leave right now if knowing that in the end, Medea was going to kill her two children was going to overwhelm us.

And then the play began – a play within a play. Nice.  And then the wrap up, the same way.

And the question of how to make an ancient Greek play relevant?

 So quickly done by having the setting updated, even to the point of having us watch the children who were watching T.V., or at one point, the  children so busy with their own electronic devices that they were oblivious to the dynamics going on between their parents.

I liked the touch of introducing Medea to us by having her perform one of the daily rituals we do unconsciously. I never think about that act as leveling us all in one way. She was brushing her teeth. In the mythology, I think she is the granddaughter of the sun god. But here … she was one of us … could have been any of us.

I am not good with an analysis of dance. But I was taken with the wedding dance between Jason and his princess-wife – struck by its angularity, its rhythmic pulse, its awkward form. And on that note, having it performed on the second level of the set, on the level we usually saw only through a curtain, but now it was visible and real to us.

Ah … what more is there to say. Probably a lot more. But let this be enough and I will meet you at one of the next Front Row Centre events.

In fact, now that I think about it, The Last Night of the Proms is next Saturday.

 If I get there, it will be the first time I have tried that event.

Arta

First silence, then darkness

First silence; then darkness.  Those were the last words of the play tonight.

And what was the audience left with?

Silence.  Darkness.

And a tightening of the throat, the oesophagus, everything down to what felt like the stomach for me. A gripping presentation -- much better to watch on stage than in real life, I am sure.

As the play gathered itself into its close, I was thoughtful about the play within the play -- the children's nurse inviting us to take a look at the day's events to begin with, and then circling back to close the curtain on what we had seen while she let us make up our minds about what we thought about the events we had witnessed.

Reading the reviews.  Going out to see u-tube clips.  None of that really prepared me for the McCrory performance.  Thoughtful.  Intense.  The stain of tears on her face.  The weight of the body bags.  The clutching to her body of what she had lost.  That is one of the benefits of seeing the play HD-Live.  I get to see both the proscenium arch and I get the effect of those telling close-ups.  Those long pauses where we get to linger on the face in silence.

Did anyone else like the Greek chorus?  Stilted, yet flexible.  The costuming -- everywoman.  I kept looking for the voices. Or at least who the voices were coming from. Only a few times could I see who was speaking.

I liked the abstractness of the body movements in the chorus, as well as those of Kreusa, the new bridge.

And oh, the original music.  At one point didn't the instruments sound like a freight train coming to a sudden screeching halt.  Or have I been out to the lake too long.

I don't know if the laughter was from the theatre audience, or from the people who were in the movie house.  When Jason's sons were glued to their electronic devices, the laughter might have come from both places.

Would I go again?  Oh yes.  And on that point, more in the next post.

Arta

Medea

Helen McCorory as Medea

Hello,

In an attempt to prepare myself for the performance of Medea by Euripedes, I went out to read the review of the play in The Guardian.

A couple of weeks ago I went out to the National Theatre Lives website and read a bit around the play -- watched a tube video about the Medea myth and how it has evolved over the years.

The play is tomorrow night in our community (Sept 4).  I noticed that the play ends on Sept 4 in London, which must be why it is also broadcast worldwide on that date.

Rebecca usually takes her kids along.  This play could probably be classified as a cautionary tale for them.  They usually get money for answering questions.  Duncan should just get money for going to the theatre on this one.  I guess, at the very least, it is a chance to teach him about the Greek chorus and its purpose.

Arta

PS
Here is Helen McCorory on playing Medea.

And here is Director Carrie Cracknell on Medea.

Or try Michael Billinggate's review if you want an idea of what the set looks like.

One last review by Ian Shuttleworth.