THE BACCHAE -- SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK

Jonathan Groff as Dionysus & The Chorus
in The Bacchae
Photo by Joan Marcus
There’s a terrific production of The Bacchae (Βάκχαι), by Euripides’ (Εὐριπίδης), one of the greatest plays in all classic Greek theater, and indeed all theater, now at Shakespeare in the Park. Anyone with an interest in theater, Greek theater, or, generally, any theater which, remarkably, is as fresh now as if it had just been written, should see this version (playing just till Aug 30). It’s also outdoors, which is a rare connection these days with the ancient performances.

Greek gods often represented personalizations of archetypal human behavior or natural phenomena, or both. They were kind of living metaphors for strong, sometimes complex ideas.

Because the gods were archetypes, respect for the gods meant being respectful of the true nature of man and the power of nature. (Note 1 (disclaimer): This is one point of view. In one sentence. Many whole books have been written about the attitudes of Greeks to their gods.) (Note 2 (somewhat contrary view): See below: JoAnne Akalaitis, the director, takes a different point of view on the relation between the gods and men.)

Greek Gods did not exist a priori, they were created as myths, and the myths were refined by people, especially writers, and in the days of Greek theater, especially playwrights.

The story of Dionysus (aka Bacchus) and the Bacchae – the women followers of Bacchus – as described by Euripides was a combination of his invention with myths and history that were known to the Greeks. Each author that translated or adapted Euripides’ text and every director that staged the play since it was written added their own creative invention.

(Note: In a story about the National Theater of Scotland’s production of The Bacchae at Lincoln Center last year, I discussed in detail some of the alternative approaches to The Bacchae.)

Euripides’ version alludes to many themes associated with the myth of Bacchus:

THEME 1 -- It was a relatively new religion that swept in from the East.

This theme has echoes now in our modern world, where the western world is being tested by fervent promoters of a religion which is coming from the East.



THEME 2 -- Alcohol liberates the spirit, provides comfort – but also can provoke fighting.

This can be amplified to a basic cycle: a spirit of liberation, supported by forces of moderation; which is opposed by a repressive regime; and then there is an element which associates itself with the pacifist spirit, but which is violent.

This duality was certainly a part of the spirit of 1968-69 – the 40th anniversary of which we are celebrating now. It is epitomized by the journey from Woodstock (a festival of peace and love and mud) to Altamont (where, as described in Wikipedia, a member of the audience at a Rolling Stones Concert – one of whose anthems was “Sympathy for the Devil" -- was killed by a member of the Hell’s Angel’s). Or by the journey from the "summer of love" to the Manson murders.


Liberation:

Dionysus in 69
Directed by Brian De Palma & Richard Schechner, US, 1970;
Photo Credit: Courtesy of Richard Schechner

The liberation of the 60’s and its tie to the myth of Bacchus was expressed in the version of this play, Dionysus in 69.

(Note: For a look back, visit the contemporary impressions of Time magazine, and The New York Times -- access to NYT may require registration.)

The Tribe/Chorus
in Hair
Photo by Joan Marcus

It was also expressed (with Pot more than booze as the liberating drug of choice) by Hair.

Interestingly, a terrific production of Hair is currently playing on Broadway, where it was transferred after originating at Shakespeare in the Park last summer. Hair (especially the first act) could almost be an interpretation of the spirit of the Bacchic revelers in the present age.


Jonathan Groff as Claude
in Hair
Photo by Joan Marcus
It is also interesting – and more than a coincidence I would think – that the current version of The Bacchae, now playing in Shakespeare in the Park features Jonathan Groff as Bacchus. He also played Claude in last year’s Hair at The Park, and also is part of Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, about the festival.

The current version takes note of, but does not show (much less enjoy) the spirit of liberation. There is no sex, no nudity, no Bacchants in this production. (The chorus may be Bacchants in name, but they do not participate in any Bacchic revels.) The chorus, which in many productions takes the role of the liberated women, here are purely commentators (which they do in an especially rich fashion, as we comment below). The description of liberated women is – except in the scene with Cadmus & Tiresias (Τειρεσίας), who are sympathetic to the revels – almost entirely in terms of how Dionysus has crazed the women, especially the daughters of Cadmus.

Note: Tiresias is the blind seer. Cadmus is the old, retired legendary king of Thebes who has given his crown to his grandson, Pentheus. His daughters are: Semele, the mother of Dionysus; Agave, the mother of Pentheus; Autonoe and Ino. Dionysus is thus the cousin of Pentheus and also a grandson of Cadmus.

Dionysus claims that his father is Zeus, and therefore he has divine lineage. His mother claimed Zeus was her lover, but neither Cadmus nor his mother’s sisters believed her. This rejection is the primary motivation behind Dionysus' return to Thebes to claim the respect he and his mother were denied. Continued disrespect is the motivation for his revenge.


Revenge / Violence:

This production stresses the theme of revenge. Dionysus comes out angry. The Chorus is fierce. Dionysus gives Pentheus a chance to respect him. When Pentheus does not, Dionysus arranges for Pentheus to be brutally murdered by his own mother.

On one level this is a counter-reaction of violence to repression. On another level, this is the representation (we alluded to before) of the aspect of drink that makes people fight.

Depending on how you view the play, this is

• An expression of the barbarism of a pagan religion,
• Or the realistic depiction of the fury that gods unleash when you do not pay them the respect they require,
• Or the metaphorical description of the consequences of ignoring the reality the god represents.
• (Or just fury -- its a god, no reason needed, see theme 4.)
  

THEME 3 – Cross dressing

In the course of his revenge Dionysus convinces Pentheus to dress as a woman so that he will not be attacked by the Bacchants.

This is a strange statement on the face of it, since earlier Euripides’ has (at least according to most translations) suggested that men and women were making love among the revelries and, besides, Cadmus and Tiresias had just gone up to join the revelers. The simplest explanation is that Dionysus was lying to Pentheus.

Pentheus expresses reluctance to wear a woman’s clothes, and the reaction the play seems to be looking for is that Pentheus is humiliated by dressing as a woman.

Jonathan Groff as Dionysus
With a smear of red lipstick
in The Bacchae
Photo by Joan Marcus
Bacchus, himself, in myths is portrayed as half-man half-woman. And stage directions in many versions of the play describe Dionysus, when he comes in, as having long blond hair, kind of androgynous. In this production, Dionysus wears just a smear of lipstick.


Anne Hathaway as Viola
in Twelfth Night
Photo by Joan Marcus


Some commentators on the play treat the theme of cross dressing as the paramount theme of the play. Indeed the ads for this whole summer’s Shakespeare in the Park stress Cross Dressing: the other play this summer being Twelfth Night, in which Viola (played by Anne Hathaway) dresses as a man.

(Note: Viola dresses as a man to be safe going around in a strange country by herself (aka himself). It was, of course, convenient for Shakespeare to have women dressed as young men, since they were, in fact, being played by young men.)

Neither play seems to make too much of cross dressing in these productions. (It was a much more important part of The Scottish Theater’s version of The Bacchae.) With respect to how cross-dressing illuminates the relation between men and women, they do take almost the same view (that in the world they live in, men are more important) in very different ways (inflating women and deflating men in Shakespeare; mostly mocking women and – perhaps mockingly – almost worshipping hunting and killing as manliness in The Bacchae).

Twelfth Night notes how a woman can be just as manly as a man, when people think she’s a man. It bursts a bubble of assumed superiority for men, and elevates woman to the same level as a man.

The Bacchae, in the person of Agave, boasts how a woman can be just as strong as a man when she is crazed, while Pentheus, dressed as a woman is mocked: Men are strong, women are maddened by Dionysus; when a man is maddened, he is made to play the role of a woman and mocked; a woman can think she is as strong as a man only if she is maddened. In this view, Euripides is quite a misogynist. (Other interpretations of Euripides, stressing the androgynous nature of Dionysus, and the freedom and independence of women in the Dionysian rites, are quite different.)


THEME 4 – Human powerlessness in the face of irrational gods

I had no direct access to the creative team, but the NYT quotes JoAnne Akalaitis, the director, as saying the play is “partly about human powerlessness in the face of irrational gods…” In this interpretation, Dionysus is not even revenging himself, his fury is irrational.

(If one wishes to put this irrationality in context, it could be tied back to the idea that excessive drinking makes one irrational, and to a modern notion that the gods of Greece were pagan gods.)


THE STAGING

There is an additional element in the interpretation of a play, especially a Greek play, and that is how the play is staged.

In the story I referred to above, I discussed the staging of the play last year by The National Theater of Scotland. That staging was notable for its ability to find humor in the text, and for cross-dressing, and for its vivid effects.

The Chorus
in The Bacchae
Photo by Joan Marcus


In addition to being outdoors! (as Greek plays were originally staged), the most notable element of the staging in The Park is the magnificent score by Philip Glass, and the singing, chanting, dancing and appearance of the chorus. It is almost operatic, and is the central element for most of the play. (In the program, Eustis, the Artistic Director of The Public Theater, says the chorus was “almost really the starting point for this entire endeavor.”)

Watching The Bacchae, and listening, I thought back to the last opera I saw: Doctor Atomic, with a score by John Adams. There is something about our times that is bringing a certain musical sensibility, large in scope, concerned with real and mythical events, recent and ancient events, that remind us of the precariousness of our situation, comfortable at home, but threatened by the possibility of imminent cataclysm.

There is a similarity between our times and the times when Euripides wrote The Bacchae – Athens was in grave danger, both militarily, politically, and philosophically, with much of the danger coming from Persia and the East. The Bacchae may be 2,400 years old, but it is a modern play, and this is a timely production.

(Note: It has little to do with rest of this article, but I just wanted to note that these are extraordinary photos by Joan Marcus. These are not only great shots, but they show the extraordinary concentration and the incredible life that is going on with every one of the characters shown in the pictures. They are a great tribute both to the productions, and to the photographer.)

THE BACCHAE

Alan Cumming & The Bacchae
From the2008 international tour of The Bacchae.
National Theatre of Scotland
Photo credit: Rhuary Grant

The Bacchae of Euripedes dramatizes themes and issues that are as important today as they were 2500 years ago, and does so with a style as modern as if it were just written.

In fact, The Bacchae was written in about 407 BC (2008+407 = 2415 years ago) and had its premiere, some two years later, about a year after Euripedes died, posthumously winning first prize at the Dionysia.

The play was written in Greek Macedonia where Euripedes had moved from Athens (on the invitation of the King of Macedonia) about a year before writing the play.

It is helpful to understand some of the background of the creation of the play: the world as seen from Athens in 407 BC. It was written during the Peloponnesian war between Athens and Sparta, and war was coming to a climax. It was a bitter conflict. In addition to the dangers of war, politics in Athens were very unstable. Among other events, for example, a coup, about 3 years before Euripedes’ departure from Athens, overthrew the Athenian democratic system in favor of oligarchic rule by a group of 400 prominent and wealthy Athenians.

In Macedonia, Euripedes was removed from danger and from the politics. Also, it has been suggested that he was exposed to Dionysian Mysteries and rituals in Macedonia which were much more intense than the -- rather tame -- ceremonies in Athens.

The play takes place in Grecian Thebes in ancient times. During the Peloponnesian war, Thebes was Athens’ enemy, allied with Sparta. Thebans may also have been regarded by Athenians as a bit dense or stupid.

Persia, Lydia and Phrygia, which are described as the lands from which Dionysus has just arrived from the East, were important kingdoms when the play was written. Lydia and Phrygia lay Northeast of Athens in what is now Turkey, and in the direction of Persia, which had, not long ago, attacked Greece, but had been repelled.

The Bacchae is a very powerful play. The conclusion is very shocking, and the developments that lead to the conclusion are very theatrical, with both humor and spectacle, and an ever-present suggestion of sex.

Much of the power of the play is that is not a perfect play. Most productions of the play seem to succeed on one level, and yet be incomplete and unconvincing on some other level. It touches on many themes, but is not a simple exposition of any one. Given any interpretation, it could equally be taken to support a different or even opposite interpretation. The freedom of directing the play from any one of many thematic emphases is part of the reason the play is often presented, and often presented at a time of national stress, when one or another of the issues with which it deals become matters of popular relevance and importance.

There is also the issue of language. Ancient Greek drama is said to have been written in a form of poetry which has strong rhythm (without rhyme). Last summer I saw and heard Euripedes’ Medea at Cambridge University in England presented in Ancient Greek. The sound of the language was a revelation. Without understanding the language (but following along: a running translation was provided on an overhead screen), the beauty and power of the sound of the language was evident.

(Note: Cambridge produces a play in Ancient Greek every three years (in years divisible by 3). Oxford also produces a play in Ancient Greek every three years and will be presenting Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, (the first play in the Oresteia trilogy) in Oxford in mid-October this year. It will be directed by Claire Catenaccio who has just graduated with numerous honors and prizes from Harvard, directing and studying ancient Greek drama. I recommend a visit to Oxford this fall!)

There has been a major production of The Bacchae playing in a theater in New York: The National Theatre of Scotland at the Lincoln Center Summer Festival. And at least one more is in development. Later this year, JoAnne Akalaitis is scheduled to present a production at The Public Theater.

Some of the fundamental themes of the play are:

Sexual
=> Androgyny and possibly homosexuality
=> Sexual, spiritual and emotional liberation and freedom
=> Empowerment of women
=> Spiritual liberation

Religious
=> The need to honor a god
=> The cruelty of a god
=> The history and true nature of the god of wine

Political
=> The need for a government to respect the laws of human nature. Here, the human spirit and the need for liberty is embodied in the god Dionysus. (Note: This is directly suggested in the play by Tireseus, and takes as implicit the notion that a Greek god is an embodiment of some aspect of human behavior, and worship of the god is respect for the corresponding laws of human nature.)
=> The attitude of the chorus to the events
=> The conflict between a liberating political movement and a repressive political government, and the notion that a liberal movement can turn vicious when it meets with excessive resistance
=> The importance of moderation
=> The need to honor both the stability of law and the liberation of the spirit
=> The fall of a government when it does not pay due respect to the gods
=> The hypocrisy of those who repress sex in others but secretly lust themselves; and the hypocrisy of those who profess liberation, but when they are challenged become more cruel and repressive than the repressors; (This theme of hypocrisy could also have been listed under the sexual themes!)

Familial
=>The difficulties of family relationships, especially in the ruling class

That is quite a load of themes, any of which can be the basis for an interpretation.

In addition, the play has humor, violence (which is off-stage in the text, but can be brought on-stage by the director), magic, special effects, drugs (alcohol at least), madness, tragedy, cross-dressing, music and dance. And any of these can be the stylistic basis for an interpretation.

None of these themes or styles are developed completely enough in the script to determine the obvious, completely satisfying interpretation; each one of them competes for attention when any other is taken as the primary focus. That is one reason why the play is a failure, and why it is an enduring success.

The director, John Tiffany, of the Scottish National Theatre presentation at the Lincoln Center Festival has taken as his primary interests the cross-dressing, androgynous nature of Dionysus, and the musical and visual potential of the chorus. Stylistically, he emphasizes the theatrical spectacle, and humor. Serving these decisions, Alan Cumming as Dionysus is terrific; the rest of the cast somewhat less so. Cal Macaninch as Pentheus, the ruler of Thebes, and the primary antagonist to Dionysus, is simply not a strong enough presence to challenge Cumming in a dramatically effective way. Paola Dionisotti as Agave and Ewan Hooper as Cadmus, Pentheus grandfather, are not dramatically powerful enough in the final scenes.

There are many terrific elements in this production, and many things that don’t go quite right.

Among the most effective elements of this production are:

=> The special effects and spectacles, especially the initial entrance of Dionysus
=> The clarity of the production in the script, the direction and the acting, making it always possible to understand the characters’ meaning (when you could hear them – the volume level was a bit low and with traces of Scottish accents and a strange play, not all the words were clear)
=> The costumes, which were colorful, bold and interesting, especially effective at making the first entrance of each character exciting
=> The choral music and dance which had a gospel style and nice melodies
=> The comedy
=> And the effective delivery of an interpretation which stressed the androgyny and sexual identity issues in the play.

The clarity of this production probably stems in part from the manner in which it was created. First a literal translation of the play was created by Ian Ruffell. Then a writer, David Greig, was commissioned to turn the literal translation into a play that directly served the director’s interpretation. The script was neither archly old fashioned, nor jarringly modern (two problems most scripts fail to avoid), but seemed ideally suited to the director’s intentions.

Some things were not so effective:

I’ve already mentioned the weak supporting cast, and the low volume sound design, which made words difficult to understand, (a particular problem when the chorus was singing, since the text of what they say is important to the development of the play’s themes).

Although the costumes were stiking and impressive, most characters wore the same thing throughout the show, so that the visual excitement began to fade. I also found the costume design somewhat confusing: some of the costume choices seemed wrongly conceived. This play is set in ancient Thebes, yet the clothes are conspicuously modern and not-Greek. When Cadmus and Tireseus set out for the mountain to join the maenads, they seem to say that they are in fawnskin (or soon to change) and they are carrying the thyrsus; but they are dressed in tuxedos with strangely decorated hats and carrying walking sticks. I also thought Pentheus could have used a uniform or other clothes that marked him as the king -- to give him more gravitas in his encounters and conflicts with Dionysus.

One special effect -- a huge bank of spotlights aimed at the audience -- seemed both pointless in terms of the play, and dangerous to the audience’s eyes.

The play takes place in one location, near Pentheus’ palace. This production sets it firmly there, and never tries to even suggest the licentious behavior of the maenads in the mountainous forest. Only the bacchae that came with Dionysus from the East are seen. Portrayed as gospel-like singers, these women in the chorus seem to have no visceral connection to Dionysus, and there is no chemistry between them and Alan Cumming. So the whole element of the liberating nature of the god of wine, of the Bacchic Mysteries, is almost completely lost.

But the main weakness of the production is that it did not do justice to the tragedy of the play. Aside from the weak acting by the two main characters in this section of the play, the use of a patently fake plastic or rubber head was a disastrous dissipator and destructor of the tension, surprise and horror that should characterize the climax of this play. Agave does not treat the head as the lion’s head she believes it to be, or as any important object at all. It has no reality because of the way it is carried and treated by the actress. In addition, it is introduced too early. There are specific lines in the play which seem designed to be the ideal place to make the reveal, to maximize the shock value and horror of bringing on-stage the severed head of her son, which she believes to be the head of a lion she has killed. Displaying the head earlier dilutes the intensity of the climax.

While the play can be presented in many ways, for me the most brilliant and modern and lasting insight in the play is its depiction of the nature of the political cycle of (1) a movement of liberation, then (2) attempts at repression and then (3) a counter reaction or co-option of the liberation movement with radical violence. It is, for example, the story of the French Revolution; and we saw it in the sixties in the journey from Woodstock to Altamont. It happens in big ways, and it happens in small ways, and it is a cycle that we must always beware of.

The Tiffany version from Scotland, as we’ve noted, stresses other themes, which the director has said he has been interested in for 20 years. For even longer than that - (!) - I’ve wanted to do an adaptation that stresses the political elements of the story, especially this issue of achieving liberation without descending into violence. I hope some day I get to do that!

The National Theatre of Scotland has brought to life The Bacchae in one of the many ways it’s possible to experience this extraordinary drama. Despite some faults, I highly recommend a visit to this production wherever in the world it may travel to, for its spectacle and theatricality, its clarity, humor and, given its intentional focus on the themes of androgyny and sexual identity, its success in accomplishing what it set out to do.