The Oresteia
(© Karl Rabe)
It’s time to dive back into the tragedy of the house of Atreus with Aeschylus’ The Oresteia, playing at Bard College’s SummerScape. Some theatergoers may be exhausted from watching recent, previous incarnations of this tragic saga, but there’s much to recommend in Gregory Thompson’s elegant staging of this Greek trilogy that a visit is warranted.
Thompson’s production is surprisingly powerful, and not because of the directorial flourishes meant to give the piece contemporary resonance. In the first play, Agamemnon, his vision of the Chorus (David Felder, Aoife McMahon, Sandra Voe) as newscasters succeeds initially, but as the play continues, the conceit becomes confusing. Similarly, video sequences which project live images of Clytemnestra (Mary Jo Randle) onto the stage floor (a sweeping arced promenade with recesses at either end from scenic designer Ellen Cairns) only distract when used in each of the plays.
What impresses most about this Oresteia and gives the production its heft, is the nine-member ensemble’s felicity with adaptor Ted Hughes’ verse. In the Agamemnon, it’s Randle’s exquisite handling of Clytemnestra’s description of how she’s learned the Trojan War has ended and that her husband Agamemnon (idiosyncratically played by Hilton McRae) will be returning home that initially stands out. Later, when the commandingly and emotionally intense Beth Fitzgerald delivers Cassandra’s prophesy about the way in which she and Agamemnon will die at Clytemnestra’s hands, the moment chills thanks to the performer’s gorgeous ease with the language.
In Choephori, the second part of the trilogy, Richard Glaves’ turn as Orestes, who avenges his father’s murder by killing both Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus (Derek Hutchinson), is not only well-spoken, it’s nobly and gently touching. Glaves’ work is ably matched by Fitzgerald and McMahon, playing the two serving women who, with Electra (played with zealous but unfocused intensity by Louise Collins), bear libations to Agamemnon’s grave. Fitzgerald and McMahon’s work later deliver, with remarkable force and clarity, prayers to the gods asking that he will succeed in his revenge.
The third play in the trilogy, The Eumenides, once again centers on Orestes (an increasingly frantic and pitiable Glaves), who’s being pursued by the Furies — here portrayed as crippled and rag-covered (some of Cairns’ finest work as the production’s costume designer). In this quintet of hags, rubber-faced McRae stands out. The crones’ plans to capture the young man are thwarted by Apollo (rendered with other-worldly serenity by Felder) who acts as his protector as Athene (imbued with a matter-of-factness that’s very much of this world by McMahon) establishes the first jury-based judicial system.
The resolution of Orestes’ case and Athene’s kindness toward the Furies ends the blood-filled The Oresteia on a positive, even uplifting, note. And it’s difficult not to feel exhilarated by the production, which is the most satisfying incarnation of this tragic tale to hit the stage this year.
