|Photo by Dahlia Katz|
All of this comes to mind with M'dea Undone,a world premiere from Toronto-based Tapestry New Opera (with Scottish Opera), and currently on now through Friday. Essentially a re-telling of the Greek myth of Medea, the story (with libretto by Marjorie Chan and music by John Harris) has been stripped of its mystical elements and placed firmly in the present, with the titular Medea (Lauren Segal) now a kind of war bride (if not an officially-married one) to Jason (Peter Barrett), a decorated military figure and close advisor to the President (James McLean). Medea is a survivor of war atrocities, and is presented as having a Middle Eastern background, giving her and the work a contemporary feel that is greatly enhanced by the company's choice of location, an old warehouse, open to the elements, at Toronto's Evergreen Brickworks. As the sounds of traffic and birds co-mingle, the voices of the ensemble rise up, offering a sound that is both against and absolutely a part of nature. This isn't theater as cold, rarified, high-art-museum stuff, but rather, a kind of a home, one that is welcoming, inclusive, and, it's worth noting, interactive. (The audience and performers freely mingled in the yawning stage space following the evening's final bows, something I wish would happen more at live cultural events. This kind of friendly, unpretentious, intimate interaction needs so much to be a larger part of the performing arts.)
|Photo by Monika MacMillan|
It's this quality that makes one re-think the character of Medea herself. I've always liked and been drawn to the mystical elements of the character -- a kind of Greek-mythological Stevie-Nicks-type, casting spells and spouting incantations -- but it's the woman beneath the sparkling veils (literal or figurative) that makes M'dea Undone so special. There have been many great Medeas to have graced the stage (Diana Rigg, Helen McCrory, Seana McKenna) and all of them offer a special take on the damaged woman of Euripides' great tragedy. Tapestry's work continues this tradition, but forces audiences to see past the sorceress elements; while they are certainly central to her character, M'dea Undone asks us to consider what power the character might have if she was stripped down entirely, robbed of her spirituality, robbed of her country, robbed of her culture, and ultimately, the man she loves. What would she do? As the New York Times' Vincent Canby noted in 1994, "(t)o play her mostly as victim is to humble one of world literature's most titanic creations." No kidding.
|Photo by Dahlia Katz|