On Sunday evening I had the opportunity to see the Euripides’ The Bacchae at Shakespeare in the Park. As I entered the open-air theater, I was reminded of the amphitheaters of ancient Greece. The air was sweet and warm and the play-space vast and mysterious, a single plume of mist sprouting from a large crack in the stage, leaving me with a sense of foreboding and mystery.
As I took my seat, I recognized a familiar face. Jonathan Groff (familiar to musical theater fans for his turn in Spring Awakening) was roaming the stage and ritualistically preparing it in the role of Dionysus. He pulled various articles from a large case and placed them about the stage. He also washed an animal’s severed head and mucked about in the shallow pool of water that ringed the front of the stage. Lastly, he dressed himself in jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket, taking on a sort of a James Dean quality, simultaneously winning and dangerous. His portrayal successfully evoked those facets of the god and was only set off course at times by Philip Glass’ disjointed vocal compositions.
James Conklin’s set was both abstract and reminiscent of ancient Greek theatrical architecture. I felt the history behind his choices, while at the same time the streamlined modern lines of the silver play-space gave the impression that I would see something fresh. I loved the fact that the whole production was set on the top of Semele’s grave, placing importance on the fact that the very godhead of Dionysus was at stake in the telling of this story. There was also a fantastic visual moment where the grave burst into flames at the back of the stage. I wondered if this was necessary, but it did make for a very unusual stage picture.
The most exciting part of the piece for me was David Neumann’s choreography as executed by the chorus of Bacchan women. They traversed the stage in rhythmic punctuation that had the curious ability to seem organic while invoking the original performances of ancient plays wherein the chorus stomped across the stage in large shoes to emphasize the rhythm of the verse lines. Conversely, Neumann punctuated the rhythm of the verse with shapes and changes in tempo of movement rather than relying on the drudgery of stomping. Neumann’s choreography was the heart and soul of this piece and was no less than magical when it came together seamlessly with the design and the text, as in the moment where the women washed themselves in the pool, lit only by dim lights shown through the shallow water.
The costumes, by Kaye Voyce, were at times unexpected, as in the choice of glittering pants for the prophet Teiresias, but always worked with the style of the piece. Her color choices brightened the stage and brought a wild vivacity to the chorus that is not always present in Greek drama.
JoAnne Akalaitis’ direction was hit or miss for me. There were moments where I wasn’t exactly sure what I should be looking at which can be a challenge when it comes to shows with a lot of ensemble members in a large space. Rocco Sisto’s turn as the Messenger at the climax of the production was heart rending and dynamic, but I felt the presence of the women on stage almost overshadowed his brilliant performance. In addition, there were some strange homo-erotic moments framed very prominently between Jonathan Groff as Dionysus and Pentheus, played by Anthony Mackie. I wasn’t sure that these were supported by the script which is why they stuck out to me as an imposed choice made by the director. Perhaps it was an attempt at showing that Dionysus’ enchantment was taking hold of the King of Thebes? In any case, I wasn’t clear as to the purpose of these moments.
This brings me to a problem I have always had with this play. How are the Bacchan women both there in the palace of Thebes and out in the hills with Dionysus simultaneously? It just doesn’t make sense, especially when used so loosely in the case of this production. Akalaitis often placed them in beautiful shapes around the stage, but I sometimes wished that the principle actors could have had more focus. I admit that some of these issues stem from the script itself rather than the direction of the piece, but I almost felt that the director ignored them rather than contending with them, leaving her audience at a loss.
People don’t go to a Greek drama for a wild ride, so to complain about the pace of the show would be poor form. However, I felt that the end of the show was a bit lackluster. I enjoyed the performance of George Bartenieff as Cadmus in his charmingly befuddled scene with Teiresias, played expressively by Andre de Shields, but the end of the play took a leaden pace and dragged his work down. Joan Macintosh’s Agave was a bit wooden for my tastes. Agave is a character that has to win over the audience in seconds with the tragedy of her mad plight. Not a moment can be spared with a lack of specificity. With this portrayal of Agave, I found I didn’t feel anything, despite the fact that she was dripping with gore and holding a semi-life like rendition of her son’s severed head.
This brings me to another pet peeve of mine. When you cannot actually show something on stage in an extremely realistic light, as in sex, murder, or death, it is best to abstract it. I found myself assessing the poorly rendered dead body of Pentheus instead of paying attention to the acting. If it had been abstracted, I would have at least been thinking about the artistry of the actor’s relationship to a choreographed and designed moment rather than the fact that I didn’t believe the realism of the fake body on stage.
As for Phillip Glass’ score and vocal compositions, I found them well performed with little substance. The performers blended well and shifted dynamically as one but to what purpose? I found it strange to be at such odds with Glass’ music because I love his movie scores. The Hours and The Truman Show would not be the same without his pulsing, persistent musical scores. Here, Glass was so amelodic that I sometimes lost the direction of the spoken lines and became a bit confused as to what was being said by the chorus. If it hadn’t been for Neumann’s choreography, I might have been lost altogether.
Although it had it’s problems, Shakespeare in the Park’s The Bacchae was a very visually gripping rendition of a difficult Greek drama. The show runs until August 30th. For more information on this production see: http://www.publictheater.org/
My guilty pleasure is So You Think You Can Dance. I’m not a dancer, so I’m not exactly sure why I’m so drawn to it, but I’m a freak for it. I can’t get enough. I think it’s amusing that I sometimes find myself commenting on dance performances and complaining about “bad lines” and “sickled feet.” It’s like I consider myself an expert just because I watch this TV show, when in fact I’ve taken limited dance classes and my technique is slim to none. However, the show is so inviting that for however many hours a week you watch, you feel like you are a part of the dance community and it’s dialogue.
Even though it’s inviting and accessible, this show does not compromise. For the first time this season, they had a classical ballet dancer on the show. Usually everyone gets a chance to dance in their style at one point or another, but I thought Melissa never would because they don’t do classical ballet as a style on the show. As judge and choreographer Mia Michaels put it during judging, you can’t fake classical ballet. It would have been easy for the producers to simply avoid doing a piece in that style, but instead they chose to confront it and to include a classical ballet routine from Romeo & Juliet. Not only was it breathtaking, but the audience and voter responses proved that viewers across America enjoyed it. It’s pretty crazy to think about a ballet piece being performed on the same stage as a samba and hip hop in one night.
I can absolutely say that because of this show I’ve developed such a respect for what dancers can do and what they can achieve and communicate. My room mate, who is a dancer, pointed out to me last night just how daunting the expectations are for these dancers every week. When I thought about it, I realized for the first time that not only are they expected to learn new styles outside of their own genre and pick up a maximum of three new routines every week, but they are also held accountable for their own solos which must be choreographed by them to be performed in case they end up in the bottom three couples at the end of the voting period. Seriously, those kids must be exhausted. I want to make them milk and cookies.
The show’s executive producer, Nigel Lithgow, is often tooting his own horn and bragging about how marvelous the program is, but honestly, I’d have to agree with him, especially when it comes to this season. In other seasons, I’ve watched and been impressed by everyone, but there’s always someone that falters from week to week and I lose faith in them. I can usually predict who will be going home each time or at least come close to it.
This season is different.
Every Wednesday I tune in and I don’t even see a competition. I just see beautiful routines and innovative choreography danced by incredible young performers. My favorite routines have typically been choreographed by Mia Michaels and Sonya Tayeh, however this season I’ve been becoming a fan of Tyce Diorio who choreographs modern and Broadway routines for the show. Last night, he debuted a piece on breast cancer survival danced by Melissa and Ade. It was so breathtaking that it stopped the show in it’s tracks.
It’s almost overwhelming to watch all of these styles happening in one show, but each dance is better than the next. This season’s contestants have a lot to be proud of. I cannot wait to get tickets to the Top 10 Tour. I know they’ll probably be expensive, but it would be totally worth it to me to see them dance live. That, in itself, is saying something about how much these dancers have touched and inspired me because I never spend money on dance performances. I always spend it on plays, musicals, or movies.
Tonight was the show’s 100th episode and I’d like to celebrate it by sharing a few dances that I really enjoyed, not only this season but over the last five years.
(Some of the videos were removed from YouTube, so unfortunately these are the only two left.)
P.S. To support the Dizzy Feet Foundation, which funds dance educations for talented underprivileged kids, click here.
