The Art of the Ho-Hum

I don't think I'm a Kama Ginkas fan. It's not that I don't appreciate what he does onstage, but what he does onstage is so very literary, and watching a play where it is all "in the language" when you don't know the language is a problem.

Tonight the The Amazing ART D'turg 4 (I'm going to start experimenting with names for our gang of 4 - or perhaps just that? "The Gang of Four?") went to see Ginkas's MEDEA at МТЮЗ. Not a bad night at the theater ... but not great.

Medea, as I viewed the production, was reduced to domestic drama. Children are mere playthings in the divorce of two people who were once in love. In many productions, the reveal Medea and Jason's children -- murdered by their mother -- is a dramatic one. Blood! Red lighting! Costume Changes! Something dramatic and striking.

For Ginkas ... eh. Medea took her two babes -- two very plastic dolls -- and slit their throats. No blood spewing everywhere; no wailing and lamentation; no sound. Amidst this quiet, the "corpses" are put in plastic bins, very neatly, and drowned. It was striking, but not visceral. Had I understood the text before hand I might think differently, but I couldn't. What I saw were two plastic pawns - representing children - unemotionally disposed of.

Jason's response? He sighed, leaned on a wall, and then washed his hands of it all after his wife "flew away."

And, oh boy, did she fly. Not to get too literal, Ginkas got literal. Medea put on a shiny gold aerial costume and floated away into the stratosphere. But that is where it go interesting (for me).

You see, in the Euripides's Medea she is "borne aloft, away from Corinth" at the play's end (in versions of the myth that I've read, she is taken away in a chariot pulled by dragons which were a gift to her from her grandfather, Helios). So here she was, at МТЮЗ, borne aloft.

But before Ginkas's Medea flies away, she puts on a gold costume - which makes me think Ginkas twisted the story (I should note that up until this point what Ginkas had presented was already heavily adapted). Perhaps Medea, maybe, killed herself?

What was actually spoken may contradict this; but, who knows. (Oh wait, the Russians do, that's who.)

You see, in Euripides Medea gives Jason a wedding gift - a cursed golden gown and tiara that, when worn by Jason's bride-to-be, bursts into flames and consumes both the girl and her father (when the father tries to rescure her he sticks to the gown. As he tries to pull away from her, he rips the flesh from his bones, which then catch fire).

Not a pleasant way to die, but a very memorable one. So, I was looking for that golden outfit onstage. The only one that appeared was the aerialist outfit Medea dons to fly away. Which leads me to think that, maybe, Medea - after killing her own children - kills herself? A murder-suicide where Medea uses the spell-bound gown to off herself?

Enhancing this theory of mine is the shape of the costume - a bird; or, a phoenix. The phoenix will burst into flames, self-immolating itself, and then emerge from its ashes. Medea, in the Euripides, does emerge from her ashes -- she flies away from the ruin of her Corinthian life; but, perhaps for Ginkas wanted to paint this metaphor more clearly?

And perhaps this clear-painting is an act of suicide? I mean, the suit could have been any color of the rainbow -- why gold?

At any rate, there were really interesting choices that Ginkas made; but, I can only rely on my powers of perception to decipher them -- and they are powers limited by language.

Ah well. 2 more weeks of this ... and then, no more Russia. I have to say, I look forward to hearing my mother tongue again; but I'm going to miss some of the "throw my hands up in the hair in exasperation" confusion.

So, I need to make the most of my time from here on out.