Theatre at paulcarvill.com, the home of Paul Carvill on the web

A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Roundhouse

Why? Why is this production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in several Indian dialects? It’s showing at the Roundhouse in Chalk Farm, the first play to be staged there since its redevelopment. The Roundhouse website says “This production is performed primarily in English but also Tamil, Malayalam, Sinhalese, Hindi, Bengali and Sanskrit.” I would dispute that. The play I saw was primarily performed in non-English languages. Unfortunately my ear for Indian accents and speech is not finely attuned enough to distinguish between the dialects they mention. I’m not even aware to what extent those dialects differ.

My point, I think, is that the subtleties of Shakespeare’s language have been lost in translation. An obvious point to make, sure. But not only that – in the process of translation any exoticism or mystique presumably intended by the staging has also been lost on me, merging into one opaque “otherness” which left me feeling alienated and emotionally uninvolved.

Shakespeare’s play is a hot, steamy summer night, permeated with the sounds and smells of nature. Tim Supple has been partly succesful in capturing that sense, using a sand covered stage fronted by a water trough, the actors barefoot and the men often topless. But he is reliant on the audience coming with a thorough understanding of the plot. Otherwise it is just incomprehensible.

Despite the paper-covered scaffolding ripped to shreds by mischevous nymphs, the beautiful silken chrysalis dance and the clever and complex rubber rope trick by Puck, many in the crowd were confused. The scenes in English and those in Indian dialect seem to have been arbitrarily picked. Indeed, the opening scene is spoken completely in non-English, a concession that the director could surely have afforeded us? I heard some people complaining they were lost or didn’t understand what was going on, and noticed a fair amount of people leaving during the interval.

The spectacle itself was outstanding. The music, performed live, was exotic and fresh. The costumes were rich, the dance and acrobatics inventive and energetically performed. But the balance of the cross-cultural integration seems to have been misjudged, at least for these shows in front of a UK audience.

Note: It was commissioned by the British Council which says:

“We support some of the best UK artists to travel overseas and give performances or collaborate with artists from other countries. Through this we hope to give a modern, diverse picture of the UK, and promote better cultural understanding between the UK and other countries.”

Audio slideshow backstage for a dress rehearsal, at The Guardian

La Boheme, Coliseum

I went to see the English National Opera’s production of the Handel opera “Agrippina” last night. Although ENO stage all their stuff in English, it was only due to an astute printout from Wikipedia that I had any idea what was going on.

I won’t recount the story here, but will say that it contains more innuendo, wife swapping, eavesdropping and gossiping than any Carry On… film I can remember. It may be set in and around the political machinations of a corrupt 80’s-era Italian bureaucracy but it’s obvious that everyone here is acting on their basest instincts.

I really enjoyed the evening, but all the while I was trying to put my finger on what exactly drives people in their thousands to the opera. Is it the music? Is it the singing? The words, the story, the set? One of the most enjoyable aspects for me is the atmosphere of the occasion – the buzzing chatter in the bar and foyer, the low murmur of the audience right up until the lights go down. We smuggled in some sandwiches, but there’s also something a little bit other-worldly about silver platters of £25-a-go smoked-salmon nibbles being passed around.

I guess most enthusiasts would say that it’s a combination of all these things which makes the opera so enjoyable. As you can probably tell I’m not an expert in the genre, so won’t even bother to try a review here. The things that stodd out most for me were the gargantuan set design, all monolithic Roman pillars, granite gravestones, marble-topped bars and a magnificent revolving golden-staircase leading to the throne which so occupies the characters. Everything appeared monumental and impressive, but not to the extent that the action was dwarved in any way. Far from it – instead it added to the psychological weight of the conspiracy and subterfuge of the action. Particularly memorable were the painted backdrops particular to each act or character – a wolf being greedily suckled by two offspring for the first act, the same wolf apparently, viscerally, bled dry for the second act. And the poor love-interest Poppea gets to perform in front of a 20 metre high portrait of a naked woman.

Agrippina, ENO at the Coliseum

Life of Pi, Watermans Brentford

Ramayana – Lyric Theatre Hammersmith, London

Stewart Lee’s “What Would Judas Do?”, Bush Theatre

Faust, staged by punchdrunk

Me and Kate went to see Mary Poppins last night, and it’s a stonker.

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