Polaroid Stories
Nov. 12th, 2004 12:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidLast night I saw Polaroid Stories (Naomi Iizuka) at Brandeis. I didn't know anything about the play going in, but seeing the set (I hope I never get that close to such a nasty-looking tub or sink again), and seeing the program included characters named Orpheus, Eurydice, and Skinheadgirl, I suspect it wasn't going to be an upper of a show.
And it wasn't.
But it was interesting. The play reworks a number of Greek myths as modern stories, of runaways and ghetto kids. Dionysus is more into drugs than booze, and Narcissus can't stop admiring the effect he makes, and so on. It's a rough, violent series of scenes, listed as almost-myths in the program (for example, Philomel's Story: transistor radio song; How Skinheadgirl Turns Into a Star: the story of ariadne; Orpheus' Love Song), which also gave some precis of classic Greek myths. Most of them were familiar to me, but it was good to have them included, since it made it easier to follow as the different stories wove in and out of each other.
It was very intense, and the set played into that. The stage had a mosaic over it, with irregular edges, showing a Greek-ish face. There were pipes leading to a grungy sink (sturdy enough that actors sat on it), and other pipes leading to an equally grungy footed bathtub. The pipes were solid enough that people swung on them, but not so solid that they didn't move when someone swung. High above, there were more pipes, some draped in spattered, ripped plastic material (a la shower curtain), which came down on one side. On the other side, there was a stairway down, and that whole corner of the stage was covered in water, which was stomped through, splashed in, trickled onto people, and provided interesting reflections in the light. The one other part of the set was that the pipes that slashed diagonally just below the lighting also had a chain attached to it, and Orpheus was almost always harnessed onto the chain. Between the chain and the water, I could hear more actor exits in the dark than I'm used to.
The lighting was carefully done, including a couple of lights at floor level on either side, and one in the bathtub, as well as ones that reflected the water patterns onto the backdrop. The sound was integral as well, between the songs used in the scenes, and the transition music between them.
And the play itself. Scary stuff. The fight scenes had me cringing, as did Orpheus, who kept shifting from sweet-talking to violence as soon as he got the upper hand. I don't doubt that there are people like this, and it makes me shiver. Another more-graphic-than-expected part came when Philomel came onstage after the offstage rape and mutilation, coughing out a mouthful of blood (I wondered if Dannarra would approve of the color or not), which made me wince. And though there wasn't nudity (occasional male chests), there was a scene where Dionysus had his hand in his jeans, stroking, as he watched Skinheadboy prance. Which somehow seemed much more erotic than some of the underwear-only scenes I've seen in other plays recently.
It was fascinating to see how the stories translated far too well into modern idiom. OK, except for transformations, though when high, who knows what is real? Conclusion: I never want to be in a Greek myth. Better to kill myself immediately before any more horrible things happen and then dying. None of these stories are happy... and I wish they weren't still happening.
And it wasn't.
But it was interesting. The play reworks a number of Greek myths as modern stories, of runaways and ghetto kids. Dionysus is more into drugs than booze, and Narcissus can't stop admiring the effect he makes, and so on. It's a rough, violent series of scenes, listed as almost-myths in the program (for example, Philomel's Story: transistor radio song; How Skinheadgirl Turns Into a Star: the story of ariadne; Orpheus' Love Song), which also gave some precis of classic Greek myths. Most of them were familiar to me, but it was good to have them included, since it made it easier to follow as the different stories wove in and out of each other.
It was very intense, and the set played into that. The stage had a mosaic over it, with irregular edges, showing a Greek-ish face. There were pipes leading to a grungy sink (sturdy enough that actors sat on it), and other pipes leading to an equally grungy footed bathtub. The pipes were solid enough that people swung on them, but not so solid that they didn't move when someone swung. High above, there were more pipes, some draped in spattered, ripped plastic material (a la shower curtain), which came down on one side. On the other side, there was a stairway down, and that whole corner of the stage was covered in water, which was stomped through, splashed in, trickled onto people, and provided interesting reflections in the light. The one other part of the set was that the pipes that slashed diagonally just below the lighting also had a chain attached to it, and Orpheus was almost always harnessed onto the chain. Between the chain and the water, I could hear more actor exits in the dark than I'm used to.
The lighting was carefully done, including a couple of lights at floor level on either side, and one in the bathtub, as well as ones that reflected the water patterns onto the backdrop. The sound was integral as well, between the songs used in the scenes, and the transition music between them.
And the play itself. Scary stuff. The fight scenes had me cringing, as did Orpheus, who kept shifting from sweet-talking to violence as soon as he got the upper hand. I don't doubt that there are people like this, and it makes me shiver. Another more-graphic-than-expected part came when Philomel came onstage after the offstage rape and mutilation, coughing out a mouthful of blood (I wondered if Dannarra would approve of the color or not), which made me wince. And though there wasn't nudity (occasional male chests), there was a scene where Dionysus had his hand in his jeans, stroking, as he watched Skinheadboy prance. Which somehow seemed much more erotic than some of the underwear-only scenes I've seen in other plays recently.
It was fascinating to see how the stories translated far too well into modern idiom. OK, except for transformations, though when high, who knows what is real? Conclusion: I never want to be in a Greek myth. Better to kill myself immediately before any more horrible things happen and then dying. None of these stories are happy... and I wish they weren't still happening.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-12 12:30 pm (UTC)It was fascinating to see how the stories translated far too well into modern idiom.
That's one of the great things about the Greeks: the universality of the themes.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-12 01:01 pm (UTC)There are certain themes I wish weren't still so prevalent, in violence against one another, love being used for power, and the idea that anyone is better than no one.