MASQUERADE. To 29 October.
Oxford
MASQUERADE
by Mikhail Lermontov Lithuanian translation by Vytautas Bloze
Oxford Playhouse To 20 October 2005
Tue-Thu; Sat 7.30pm Fri 8pm Mat Sat 2.30pm
Runs 2hr 30min One interval
TICKETS: 01865 305305
www.oxfordplayhouse.com
Review: Timothy Ramsden 25 October
Bleakly impressive picture of love and jealousy in a cold climate.
This production, in Lithuanian (with English surtitles), visiting Oxford for one week, is a vision of cold splendour. A free version of 19th century Russian Mikhail Lermontov’s ironic tragedy it incorporates Russian folk-tales, director Rimas Tuminas’ own experiences – and the ironic spirit of its author’s death. Lermontov avoided the potential consequences of duels by inviting party-animal friends along so the quarrel became forgotten. Till one day they failed to arrive and an impatient opponent shot Lermontov while he was looking out for them.
Ironically, there’s no masquerade and the vital incident at the ball, where a masked Baroness gives the handsome, callow Prince she fancies her bracelet, is isolated as a jewelled wrist emerging from the stage side. It’s young Nina’s coincidental loss of a similar bracelet that arouses husband Arbenin’s jealousy, leading him to poison her with ice-cream.
Adomas Jacovskis’ set evokes a cold Russian winter exterior. The masquerade’s represented through a charabanc of onlookers, half-heartedly throwing streamers and watching rockets shoot overhead. These are townsfolk, not glittering society, the women’s clothes muted in colour.
Tuminas choreographs the action splendidly, the life-loving young Nina standing out with her bright manner and white-lined coat. Snow falls fill the stage, accompanied by the ominous insistence of Khachaturian’s Masquerade waltz in full orchestral dress – elsewhere it’s heard in reduced, saddened versions. All set against a black background, making for starkly beautiful images.
Conflict runs throughout, in the Common Man servant Tuminas introduces, with his ever-larger snowball finally pushing the gentry offstage, in the quartet of women speaking up for their sex (men and women are often separated) or in the suggested aggression of a card-game as cards flick across the stage.
All this cold, edgy bustle culminates in quiet closing scenes. Arvydas Dapsys’s gravel-voiced Arbenin telling Nina of the poison and Adrija Cepaite declining from innocent joy at recovering her bracelet, create an intense concentration. Then, as the truth’s revealed, he erects her as a statue, fenced off by the crowd, before standing on a plinth across the stage from her. It’s a finely managed close to an extraordinary production
Arbenin: Arvydas Dapsys
Nina: Adrija Cepaite
Prince Zvezditch: Vytautas Rumsas
Baroness Schtral: Inga Burneikaite
Kazarin: Regimantas Adomaitis
Schpreich: Gediminas Girdvainis
Stranger: Sigitas Rackys
The Little Man: Andrius Zebrauskas
Ball Hostess: Larisa Kalpokaite
Maid: Egle Cekuolyte
The Bear: Almantas Sinkunas
Gamblers: Jonas Braskys, Mindauigas Capas, Edmundas Mikulskis, Almantas Sinkunas
Ladies: Jurate Brogaite, Rasa Jakucionyte, Vilija Ramanauskaite
Diorector: Rimas Tuminas
Designer: Adomas Jacovskis
Lighting: Rimas Petrauskas, Romualdas Treinys
Sound: Darius Zdanovicius
Composer: Faustas Latenas
Costume: Virginija Idzelyte
Make-up: Dalia Buciene
Dramaturg: Ramune Baleviciute
2005-10-26 10:45:52