Tag Archives: Heinrich von Kleist

PENTHESILEA

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Edinburgh International Festival

PENTHESILEA at the Edinburgh International Festival

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“a memorable reimagining that must be seen”

In Eline Arbo’s adaptation of Kleist’s classic play, Penthesilea becomes a deeply queer and transgressive. That’s in keeping with the spirit of a drama deemed β€œunplayable” in its own time. So if you have a chance to see the Internationaal Theater Amsterdam’s production at the Lyceum Theatre during this year’s Edinburgh International Festival, take it. Don’t expect an easy time of it, though. The show is performed in over two hours, without an interval, in Dutch. The English surtitles are, if anything, distracting, because it’s Kleist. That means hyperbolic language competing for your attention with the extraordinary things going on, on stage.

Fortunately for English speaking audiences, Arbo, who also directs this production, has reimagined Kleist’s Penthesilea as a non-binary, grungy, punk rock concert with lyrics in English. True to the spirit of the Kleist original, this Penthesilea will send you away asking important questions. Questions that upend heteronormative notions of what constitutes a civilized society; questions about the nature of war when fought by men and women with equal savagery against each other; and questions about love that devours (literally). If Kleist’s Penthesilea isn’t a punk play, what is?

What’s the story? Forget your Homerβ€”the legend of Penthesilea doesn’t appear there. In Kleist’s version, Penthesilea is an Amazon queen who rides onto the battlefield taking prisoners regardless of whose side they are on. She has particular reasons for doing this, as Kleist reveals later. The uncomprehending Greeks and Trojans are disgusted by such behaviour. They have never before encountered a culture where women fight like men, and have their own rules for battlefield etiquette. The men simply cannot imagine a culture where men are not only absent, but only permitted to interact with the Amazons under certain, carefully orchestrated rituals. Kleist explains why. So the meeting of Greek hero Achilles and Penthesilea on the battlefield is an unusual, and fateful, meeting for both. When they fall in love, it’s a love condemned by both sides, for very different reasons. In Penthesilea, it’s the heteronormative relationship that is seen as deviant, and anarchic. It all ends in blood, as you might expect. In Kleist’s Penthesilea, an all devouring passion becomes a metaphor made real. It’s a truly revolutionary drama, and that includes the dramaturgy.

This production keeps you busy on many levels. From the sparse, raked stage that uses light and picture frames to focus our attention, to the red rose petals that transmogrify to the viscousness of blood, Pascal Leboucq’s set is a space for installations of overpowering bright lights, and visceral sounds, throwing every focused detail into sharp relief. The costumes are studies in individuality. From the flowing suit of Penthesilea to the punk outfits of the musicians and ensemble players, each design from Alva Brosten reminds us that this production is about upending expectations. Thijs van Vuure’s music moves easily from the lyrical to the anarchic, depending on the moment. If the music, sound and lighting is overpowering from time to time, that’s appropriate for rock concert Penthesilea. The cast (Daphne Agten, Marieke Heebink, Maarten Heijmans, Maria Kraakman, Jesse Mensah, Ilke Paddenburg, Eefje Paddenburg, Felix Schellekens and Steven Van Watermeulen) have to manoeuvre between being in frame as musicians to stepping outside as characters in the play. If there’s a certain staginess to all this picture framing, it seems appropriate as ironic commentary on the classical theatre Kleist was trying to overthrow. It doesn’t distract from the relationship that is developing between Penthesilea and Achilles. Both actors playing these roles walk a fine line between the warriors they are, and the lovers they become. Violence is always lurking in the interactions between these two. The actors surrender their bodies to the violence of their passions, until the bodies, inevitably, fall apart.

This production of Kleist’s Penthesilea is a great opportunity to see a classic that poses as many questions as it answers. The Internationaal Theater Amsterdam have provided a memorable reimagining that must be seen.

 

PENTHESILEA at the Edinburgh International Festival – The Lyceum

Reviewed on 3rd August 2024

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Jess Shurte

 

 


PENTHESILEA

PENTHESILEA

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The Prince of Homburg

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The Space

The Prince of Homburg

The Prince of Homburg

The Space

Reviewed – 12th December 2019

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“The Space is an always welcoming venue which has a reputation for programming important drama. This production of The Prince of Homburg is no exception”

 

Kleist’s The Prince of Homburg, written around 1810, is a play shot through with ambiguity and altered states. It was also seen, at the time of its creation, as a direct challenge to the authority of the ruling classes. Now recognized as one of the masterpieces of German theatre, the play is rarely seen on British stages, and not just because of the difficulty of rendering this work into English. Neil Bartlett’s translation, however, does a fine job of capturing Kleist’s unique energy of expression and style. So what The Prince of Homburg is actually about? In many ways, the play is essentially unknowable. But on the face of it, it is a story about a soldier whose response, after being tricked into a waking dream where he is crowned with a wreath of victory, is to promptly go into battle, disobey his orders, andβ€”win a great victory for his side.

After the battle (often the end of the story in a more conventional play) is where this drama really begins. Kleist sets the audience an intriguing puzzle: since the Prince did not know whether he was awake or dreaming when he was crowned with the victor’s wreath, can he be held responsible for disobeying orders to achieve the dream? Is his commanding officer, the Elector, really to blame, since it was he who set up the whole scene for his own amusement? This enlightened despot disingenuously argues that he must follow the law when the courts sentence Homburg to death, but then the officers in his army rebel. When the Princess Natalie, who has fallen in love with Homburg, makes an impassioned plea for her lover’s lifeβ€”it is not her emotions that carry weight with the Elector, but her cleverly nuanced argument that he will look bad if he allows a man of honour to be executed for following his heart. At this point the Elector caves of course, but sets up a poison pill for Homburg. The Prince must now decide whether to make the expedient argument to save his life, or do what a man of honour would do, which is to sacrifice himself willingly for his country.

Kleist pulls off a remarkable sleight of hand with this material, managing all these reversals of fortune in a way that undercuts expectations, while paradoxically heightening the audience’s experience through the dramatization of highly ambiguous dream states. In these states, the characters confront all the big stuff like life and love; death and immortality. Coupled with crafting a language uniquely suited to these dramatic innovations, Kleist engages the our imaginations, and our sense of what is possible in the theatre. The Prince of Homburg is like Hamlet in this regard, in that the more we engage with it, the greater it becomes.

JΓΊlia Leval, freely adapting and directing this production of The Prince of Homburg, has come up with some innovative ideas for casting and staging. The Prince is played by Lucy Mackay, a fine actress, but lacking the experience for such a difficult role. Most of the cast (recently graduated from LAMDA) also seems rather adrift in the stormy waters of Kleist’s rhetoric, though Will Bishop is a confident Elector. A pared down set designed by Zoe Brennan has some beautifully ironic touchesβ€”a small bush for the laurel tree that Homburg uses to build the wreath for example, and a small white house that stands in for palaces and churches as well as a throne. Alistair Lax’s sound design helps to heighten the dream sequences.

Don’t miss your chance to see this seldom performed masterpiece. It’s worth making the journey to The Isle of Dogs to see it, and The Space is an always welcoming venue which has a reputation for programming important drama. This production of The Prince of Homburg is no exception.

 

Reviewed by Dominica Plummer

 


The Prince of Homburg

The Space until 14th December

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
The Wasp | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2019
Delicacy | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | May 2019
Me & My Doll | β˜…β˜… | May 2019
Mycorrhiza | β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2019
Holy Land | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2019
Parenthood | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | July 2019
Chekhov In Moscow | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2019
The Open | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2019
Between Two Waves | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2019
Gasping | β˜…β˜… | October 2019

 

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