'Antigone' - Play review

I studied 'Antigone' last year for my Drama and Theatre Studies AS. Studying something in a vacuum makes it disgusting. There were no productions of 'Antigone' on while we were studying it, or it least no trips organised, so I was disgusted by 'Antigone'. Shortly after my exam there was a production of it on at the Theatre Royal, Winchester, but again, I was too disgusted, I couldn't go. I didn't fail my exam or anything, I got an A, it's just that the play became a piece of educational material and no longer a work of literature. So when a trip was organised for a group of ASs to go and see Ivan van Hove's 'Antigone' at the Barbican I immediately signed up - I'm going to see 'A View from the Bridge' on Tuesday* so I'd like to see what the director's style is and how his works compare. Oh my, I wrote 8 pages of notes.

I couldn't get a picture of the set. Here is a ticket.

The first thing to discuss would have to be the venue. In December I went to the Barbican with a friend to watch the RSC's 'Henry IV Part One', and decided that getting a seat in the front row of the circle would be better than a back row in the stalls for the same price. The view was good from up there looking down on the action, and being at the front, however having that cavernous space (for the Barbican theatre is cavernous in size) in front of you when watching a play is somewhat isolating, you feel very much separate from the action, no matter how good it is. The stalls however are an entirely different story. Even row P, where we were sat, felt intimate to the stage. It's a sensation almost unique to the Barbican: the stalls sweep around in such a way that you feel almost deindividuated in the vast space, part of one body which is the audience as opposed to one that is yourself, it's a truly magical theatre, the effects created by the architecture are fabulous. Entering at ground level and descending two flights of stairs to the stalls, then looking up to the circle, upper circle and gallery above you, you feel very much the scale of the theatre space, like a theatrical ant's nest, or underground beehive, again, magical. I've been reading a lot of Nietzche's tragic theory recently and the Barbican seems the perfect place to stage a tragedy, as you are immediately swept up into another world, that being the world of the story.



'Antigone', directed by Ivo van Hove, has apparently been getting some rather poor reviews (two stars from the telegraph?!) and I'm here to strongly disagree with those, and indeed defend it. The new translation used in the production highlighted the themes of the play and the arguments present in startling clarity because of modernity - indeed, Creon saying 'what's up Tiresias?' was a total faux-pas, but that was about the only line which missed the mark, and the messenger was downright hilarious in this translation.

The entire idea behind the production and its apparent intentions were more incisive than any criticisms of the play I read for my A-level. The set, bare, as the only landscape present in 'Antigone' is the metaphorical landscape of opinion and relationships, contained one huge set piece, an occlusion of the sun like a solar eclipse that clearly signals the opening of the tragedy and its close - a clear theme of this 'Antigone' was the isolation of the events - while also containing in itself the perennial symbolism of eclipses as omens of misfortune. The play also handled the meaning the Sophoclean text much better than most productions**. Most productions like to leave the ending just as is, hoping that the ambiguity present in the ending gives inherent meaning, but Ivo van Hove clearly puts his own interpretation onto the meaning of the tragedy. Throughout the entirety of the play, the modern costume and language blending with ancient politics, religion and tradition make the temporal setting both ambiguous and eternal, while the ending is a disturbing one, that no matter what horrendous personal tragedy may occur the state must endure and life must continute. As Nietszche puts it in 'The Birth of Tragedy', ancient Greek tragedy gives the audience 'the metaphysical consolation … that life at the bottom of things, in the face of passing phenomena, remains indestructibly powerful and pleasurable', an almost perverse conclusion which instantly makes Creon's fate a thousandfold more terrifying and also more personal to the viewer - the eternal fear of humans is the irrelevance of the individual, and that is what the climax of van Hove's production confronts us with.

In the background and in the foreground, a haunting soundtrack, presumably performed life due to its keen simultaneity with events on stage, charged the atmosphere with something ominous and brooding. It was rather reminiscent of the pieces created by Headlong for their '1984', though less dramatic, an invisible 'chorus', like the greek chorus, subtly bewailing the tragedy. The closest parallel that immediately comes to mind is 'Meditative Chaos' written by Cristobal Tapia De Veer for the TV series 'Utopia', sounds that are only slightly inhuman but still have the human sound of despair (for which the violin is of course perfect). The chorus in the production wasn't as clear-cut as in other versions, so having such an emotive soundtrack to demonstrate what a greek chorus would be feeling is essential for transporting the audience into that Dionysian otherworld of tragedy. During the confrontation between Creon and Haemon the pizzicato violin raised the tension by monumental orders to levels which otherwise couldn't have been reached - there's no sin in requiring music to create an effect, and since the production has access to it, it may as well use it to the great effect that it did.

The chorus proper was cleverly done, and it took me a while to realise this, as every member of the chorus was an out-of-character character from the play, except Creon, the focus of the tragedy. Besides any logistical necessity, this gave the sense that the chorus were just like the characters of the play and, by extension, as the chorus is essentially an extension of the audience, that the characters of the play are just like you or I, again linking back to the perverse conclusion of the play with its understanding of 'individual' tragedy and the way life continues unabated. In this way each member of the chorus retained so elements of their character, and it was sometimes left ambiguous as to which state a character was in - for example, whether Ismene or chorus were speaking from Ismene's body. This allowed the messenger to remain unidentified during their description of Antigone's and Haemon's suicides, as to whether it is Antigone herself relating the message it is uncertain, essentially justifying why they don't relent in their description even as Eurydice beings to break down at the news - the telling has an insidious, bitter inflection, though an inflection which is incredibly subtle.

There definitely wasn't a single actor in the company who I could fault in their entirety, most couldn't be faulted at all. Maybe Kathrine Pogson's actual portrayal of Eurydice was a little weak, however as a member of the chorus her performance was incredibly strong, delivering a powerful and profound speech on humanity's relationship with death. Juliet Binoche's Antigone has been criticised for being too 'screechy', but it's worth remembering that Antigone is for one entirely over-zealous and passionate, and also she is not the main character. If you're watching 'Antigone' for Antigone, then you are not watching the right production here, nay, not watching the right play. Some productions may play up Antigone's role in 'Antigone', but 'Antigone' is not about Antigone. Creon is the tragic hero, the great man who takes a great fall - who Patrick O'Kane played with strength and blindness, a skilful balance. As mentioned before, Obi Abili's Soldier was truly very funny, and Tiresias' passion was frightening and real.

A truly magnificent production, 9/10.

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*I'm writing this on Sunday the 29th of March. I just realised this is in a queue for the 1st of April… so the Tuesday I'm referring to here is actually the 31st of March - yesterday to you. The review for 'A View from the Bridge' will be up as soon as possible, but there's a lot going on.
**We watched taped productions of 'Antigone' in my AS year.