In the Tap Gallery’s intimate Downstairs
theatre, a table stands, laid for a banquet. A man sits at the table, hungrily
stuffing his face with food, a headless deer lies in front of him, and four figures
stand around the space statues. This is Euripides’ Phaedra, as told by Lies,
Lies and Propaganda (henceforth LLP), one of Sydney
Phaedra is the story of a woman (Phaedra) who
falls in love with her stepson Hippolytus, and the effect it has on the family
and the way the gods intervene and clean up after the tragedy. Like all Greek
tragedies, Phaedra is grandiose,
epic, full-blooded and, well, tragic. In the hands of LLP’s artistic director
Michael Dean, Euripides’ play becomes an examination of erotic
shame, sacrifice, passion and
synth-pop.
Describing Phaedra – the character, the
woman – as a “tragic art-punk heroine,” Dean infuses a kind of rock’n’roll swagger
and an eclecticism which seems out of place with Euripides’ heightened and
already-visually poetic language. In his Director’s Note, Dean quotes music
critic Simon Reynolds as he describes the Post-Punk movement as one of
“astonishing experimentation… that mixed industrial grime with the unearthly
and uncanny… yowled imagistic incantations like a cross between Antonin Artaud
and James Brown.” This pedigree comes through in Catherine Steele’s design, a curious
and effective fusion of Marie Antoinette’s Versailles
LLP’s production, as per its artistic
statement, is fearless, certainly, not to mention messy, colourful and
provocative. It is not afraid to draw blood or spill it, nor blur the line
between theatre, art and art-theatre or perhaps performance-art. A bold and inventive
debut production, it perhaps stumbles on a conceptual level – why is Phaedra being told in this way, what
does the aesthetic lend to the story and its telling? Why do the characters,
already heightened by the nature of Greek tragedy, speak in this anachronistic
and somewhat jarring way? While Dean is at pains to point out that his
production is not happening in any other place or time than in the theatre at
the instance in which it is being performed, it seems like a cheat’s way of
saying ‘why not?’ There are stylistic choices which are effective in the brief
glimpses we get of them, but more could have been made of them; a more
theatrical sense of [the] play could have been created. While the cast are
strong, both in a physical sense as well as vocally, they did have to compete
with a near-constant soundtrack of post-punk and synth-pop which marred the
clarity of the text and the diction of the delivery. If music was to form a key
part in LLP’s production, perhaps a move towards a movement-based mode of
delivery could have been made, perhaps the songs could have been integrated
into the fabric of the production further. A key element in Greek theatre, the
Chorus here could have been integrated further into the physicality of the
scenes; whilst bringing a tongue-in-cheek element to the scene, their beat as a
popcorn-eating audience did distract from the telling of the story. The
performances were strong – Richard Hilliar’s Hippolytus, Katrina Rautenberg’s
Theseus and Danielle Baynes’ Phaedra especially in the ‘name’ ensemble, while Jennifer
White and Sinead Curry were strong in the Chorus. I’m not necessarily
disparaging the production or the directorial/design choices that have been
made because, on the whole, they are valid and effective; it’s just that more
could have been made of and from them.
This is a brave and fearless first
production, one that allows Lies, Lies and Propaganda to announce themselves
with a flourish and say ‘This is who we are, this is what we do.’ If we get
another chance to see what they do next, it could herald a new, daring,
experimental and bold voice on Sydney
No comments:
Post a Comment