THE MASTER BUILDER

THE MASTER BUILDER
by Henrik Ibsen translated by John Logan
Timothy Ramsden reviews the production now it's reached London

Albery Theatre
Tue-Sat 7.30pm Mat Thu & Sat 2.30pm Sun 3pm
Runs 2hr 30min Two Intervals

TICKETS: 020 7369 1730
Review: 19 June

Finely-acted revival gives rare clarity and urgency to this tricky late Ibsen play.
For self-taught builder Halvard Solness the worst sound in the world is youth knocking on his door. He's destroyed his able assistant's self-confidence, even provoking his wife's jealousy by pretending love for the young woman in his office, because keeping her awestruck presence means young Ragnar will hang around instead of striking out in architectural independence.

No wonder Patrick Stewart's Solness is first seen almost hiding behind the door he's opening into his own studio, afraid of Ragnar's dying dad pleading for his son's career. This fearful self-protection overcasts the household. It's there in Sue Johnston's Mrs Solness, nervously kneading her hands as she talks of duty, something that's dried her up. Scornful sarcasm is her cover for encroaching despair. Yet her sarcasm holds extra irony; what's chiefly eating her is groundless fear over Halvard's affections.

Stewart's own dried tones suggest he has none. He seems arrogant, but the self-certainty's undermined when he can't even utter the word 'talent' as he talks of Ragnar. Stewart uses such vocal cut-outs to express Solness's state. Repeatedly the voice dries as it's hauled reluctantly through some idea that relates to the master-builder's fears.

Without Ibsen's intense vision of the successful artist's awareness of failure and fear, the play would be ridiculous. It's a mark of how well Anthony Page who succeeded magnificently at the other end of Ibsen's maturity in his Doll's House with Janet McTeer at London's Playhouse several years back has judged his production that a line about prevailing darkness works when spoken in the white decor and streaming winter sun of Hildegard Bechtler's roomy set and Howard Harrison's bright lighting.

The hardest part of the play is always that voice of youth. Young Hilda Wangel, a free spirit from the wild north, come to re-awaken the master-builder's aspiration. It makes him and it kills him. Lisa Dillon captures naivety and enthusiasm, contrasting Solness' dry voice with her verbal eagerness. His guilt contrasted by her free optimism, she's at once the next generation and a reminder of the master builder's own youth.

Knut Brovik: Edward De Souza
Kaia Fosli: Katherine Manners
Ragnar Brovik: Andrew Scarborough
Halvard Solness: Patrick Stewart
Aline Solness: Sue Johnston
Doctor Herdal: Jonathan Hackett
Hilda Wangel: Lisa Dillon

Director: Anthony Page
Designer: Hildegard Bechtler
Lighting: Howard Harrison
Sound: John Leonard
Associate Sound: John Owens
Costume: Deirdre Clancy

2003-06-28 10:05:22