By Mikhail Lermontov
It might appear at first sight that a performance of a nineteenth century Russian story in Lithuanian might be something of a challenge. Do not be put off! This is one of the best evening’s entertainments to grace the Oxford Playhouse in a long time.
The story in question, Masquerade, is by Mikhail Lermontov (1814-41) whose ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ may be familiar through the opera by Shostakovich. This tale is equally macabre. Through a series of bizarre misunderstandings, a husband becomes so jealous of his innocent wife that he murders her. We shall not reveal the means here, but suffice it to say that we suspect ice-cream sales at the Playhouse this week may have been sadly affected.
A synopsis and surtitles are provided, so following the plot is no more challenging than with an opera in a language one does not understand. The plot, however, is secondary to the remarkable performance by The Small State Theatre of Vilnius, a company founded ‘in the days of the birth of Lithuania as an independent State to keep creative hope alive in the months of Soviet occupation’. They give the impression they could keep creative hope alive just about anywhere. The audience was by turns rocking with laughter, gasping with surprise and moved to tears. The bizarre humour of the first act brings us to an extraordinarily poignant ending.
To quote once more from the programme notes: ‘[The company] has been creating its exceptional status by returning to theatre what has been considered obsolete – seemingly old things, concepts and feelings – and by creating an exceptional atmosphere of the feast’. Some of the ‘old things’ which make up this performance are song and dance, dramatic techniques akin to the Classical Greek chorus and the Shakespearian fool – and a marvellous capacity for illusion. Afterwards my companion was remarking on how well the drowning scene had been done, when I realised that it had not even occurred to me that the Isis had not been diverted across the front of the Playhouse stage for the evening.
If you have any spare time at all, do try to catch one of the three remaining performances. The experience will be with you for some time.
It might appear at first sight that a performance of a nineteenth century Russian story in Lithuanian might be something of a challenge. Do not be put off! This is one of the best evening’s entertainments to grace the Oxford Playhouse in a long time.
The story in question, Masquerade, is by Mikhail Lermontov (1814-41) whose ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ may be familiar through the opera by Shostakovich. This tale is equally macabre. Through a series of bizarre misunderstandings, a husband becomes so jealous of his innocent wife that he murders her. We shall not reveal the means here, but suffice it to say that we suspect ice-cream sales at the Playhouse this week may have been sadly affected.
A synopsis and surtitles are provided, so following the plot is no more challenging than with an opera in a language one does not understand. The plot, however, is secondary to the remarkable performance by The Small State Theatre of Vilnius, a company founded ‘in the days of the birth of Lithuania as an independent State to keep creative hope alive in the months of Soviet occupation’. They give the impression they could keep creative hope alive just about anywhere. The audience was by turns rocking with laughter, gasping with surprise and moved to tears. The bizarre humour of the first act brings us to an extraordinarily poignant ending.
To quote once more from the programme notes: ‘[The company] has been creating its exceptional status by returning to theatre what has been considered obsolete – seemingly old things, concepts and feelings – and by creating an exceptional atmosphere of the feast’. Some of the ‘old things’ which make up this performance are song and dance, dramatic techniques akin to the Classical Greek chorus and the Shakespearian fool – and a marvellous capacity for illusion. Afterwards my companion was remarking on how well the drowning scene had been done, when I realised that it had not even occurred to me that the Isis had not been diverted across the front of the Playhouse stage for the evening.
If you have any spare time at all, do try to catch one of the three remaining performances. The experience will be with you for some time.