“A Midsummer Night’s Dream”
Synetic Theater
Rosslyn Spectrum
Sept. 17-Oct. 10, 2009
By Lisa Traiger
© copyright 2009 Lisa Traiger
From Balanchine to MacMillan, Lubovitch to Limon, Shakespeare’s plays, the tragedies and comedies, have been translated into grand, full-evening ballets and sharply focused choreographic gems. Lar Lubovitch’s evening-length “Othello” holds out its best hope when its principals are ballet dramatists, who can inject the story of love, infidelity, mistrust and revenge with meaningful body language and facial expression. And Jose Limon’s classic “The Moor’s Pavanne,” using a Henry Purcell score, distills the same Shakespearean tale into a little roundelay about a handkerchief that carries the weight and significance even in its compact structure. Then there’s Balanchine’s gorgeous “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” which uses Felix Mendelsohn’s lilting score to telescope the mismatched couples under spell of the forest creatures and their ultimate – fateful -- reconciliation. Ashton’s “The Dream,” a one act reverie with a sweetly characteristic Ashton pas de deux, brings to light the charm and winsome qualities of its dancers.
Synetic Theater, the astonishingly talented Arlington troupe of actors who have inculcated dance and its value as an expressive form into its work, has crafted its own finely rendered version of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” This is its fourth go at a Shakespearean play in what has become a franchise of sorts producing wordless Shakespeare. After debuting with “Hamlet … the rest is silence,” which won the then-fledgling troupe accolades and notoriety, the company tackled two more tragedies -- “King Lear” and “Macbeth” –- with unequaled abandon. Founders Paata Tsikurishvili, an actor, director, filmmaker and now script writer, and his choreographer/dancer wife, Irina, have brought their Russian-style training from Tbilisi, Georgia, to American audiences who have responded enthusiastically to their daring theatrical adaptations of classic plays and contemporary novels. The work draws extensively on old-fashioned theater and movement-based techniques ranging from martial arts to classical ballet, gymnastics to mime, and beyond.
In the Washington, D.C., region, the company has invigorated the local theater community, though it’s still not on the radar of most dance aficionados I’ve encountered. If you like your Shakespeare danced to Mendelssohn or Prokofiev, then these productions may not be for you; but if you’re ready for an exciting, visceral 90 or so minutes in the theater, Synetic is a company to become acquainted with. Choreographer Tsikirushvili, trained at the Tblisi Chabukiana Ballet School, culls from a rich and broad background, incorporating folk and culturally specific dances as readily as ballet, modern, mime and dance-theater forms. She has the dance chops to keep dance watchers interested, intrigued, even, at times, surprised. There’s little Balinchinean neo-classicism, but a great deal of old-style European acting. Culling for traditional folk dances, culturally specific genres, martial arts, and mime, she fully utilizes her cast of adept movers in service to the production’s creative ideals. But, and this is a first with its Shakespearean plays, throughout the cast has not forgotten the playwright’s intent, comedy and love in service of playful couplings. The actor/dancers inculcate the movement with a complete sense of fun. The ease with which they attack the staged dances and choreographed moments is reminiscent of early work of Mark Morris, who famously drew on folk forms, rhythms and funny, even gawky dance non-sequitors. Tsikurishvili, too, finds the fun and the strange, the awkward and the goofy and allows her dancers to go for it with an unfettered sense of playfulness.
Synetic adapter Ben Cunis, along with the Tsikurishvilis, distills Shakespeare’s poetry and five-act structure into a swift-moving 95 minutes. The opening vision features the women in shimmery Duncanesque draped dresses, encircling Puck’s birth scene. While the prologue isn’t a moment included in Shakespeare’s text, choreographer Tsikurishvili sets the evening off auspiciously and mysteriously: waving, quivering arms snake and undulate, elevating candles in a ceremonial moment when this feminine, earthy tribe welcomes a newcomer –Puck, the playful trickster of this sylvan wood designed by Anastasia Ryurikov Simes.
Boyish and painted blue, Alex Mills is a rubbery, Gumby of a Puck, a mischievous innocent who means no harm –- well not much -- with all the mismatched couplings he puts together at Oberon’s urging. Mills, remarkably fluid, virtually boneless, flips, climbs, crawls and wraps himself up pretzel like his elasticity –- along with a bright smile -- a feat to behold. Philip Fletcher’s Oberon, adorned in gold shoulder pads, bare midriff and a vaguely oriental though menacing look, is a severe taskmaster to Puck. His consort, Titania, Tsikurishvili channeling a buff, abs-of-steel Hindu goddess with her equally body-baring attire looking more Vegas than Stratford-on-Avon, though it suggests a version of an Indian Shiva-like goddess, in her severity.
Outside the forest, in the court of Duke Theseus, costume designer Simes dresses the duke, Lysander, Hermia, Demetrious and their compatriots in contemporary black tie evening wear. They look ready for a society function – tuxedos for the men and rustling gowns with tight bodices for the women. Gloved, heeled and coiffed, Tsikurishvili has them dance a courtly minuet, a nice touch incorporating ballet’s royal tradition into this modern-dress vision. They waltz and waft, spin and sway. The interchanging of the couples punctuate their steps with awkward bumps, pauses, partner switch ups – and the staid dance begins to unravel as Shakespeare’s tale of who loves whom and who doesn’t and who shouldn’t becomes a dance all its own.
Irina Koval’s Hermia, a vision of virginal purity in white, carries herself with courtly grace, but maintains a stubborn streak, preferring Lysander (Scott Brown) to her intended, Demetrius, played as a high-rolling Wall Street type by Roger Payano. Marissa Molnar’s Helena practically steals scene after scene from Koval’s elegant Hermia. Molnar’s Helena is a bundle of awkward nerves, infatuated with Demetrius, she fumbles and fudges every graceful turn she tries to make to impress her beloved. Her spiky hair, sharp elbows and stop-traffic red and black satin gown belie her high-school geekiness: she might as well be wearing black glasses with a taped up nose piece she’s so embarrassed at each blunder she makes, cringing and slapping her forehead.
Early on Titania and her acolytes channel Ruth St. Denis, drawing inspiration from eastern dance forms, particularly India, with multi-armed poses recalling Goddess Shiva, flat-palmed port de bras, as if the dancers are balancing plates, and, beloved by Miss Ruth, an overall sense of mystery, exoticism and otherworldliness. Later, the woodland nymphs in glittering yards of green and gold silks spin up churning roses and butterflies, a fine remembrance of Loie Fuller at her most ethereal and magical.
In the Shakespearean text, the comic relief comes by way of Peter Quince’s troupe of oddball players. The Tsikurishvilis elevate these commoners to equals, akin to Demetrius, Lysander, Helena and Hermia in importance. Ryan Sellers, a hot-under-the-collar Quince, tries valiantly, often fruitlessly to shape his bumbling actors into an ensemble through fully realized mimetic gestures. Here Tsikurishvili draws from circus and vaudeville traditions and with Konstantine Lortkipanidze accompanying on a stripped-bare piano and Levan Lortkipanidze joining him on flute and guitar, these players relish the brilliant physical comedy they’ve been given. The bright, spritely circus music narrates the antics of Snug (Chris Galindo), Francis Flute (Katie Maguire), Tom Snout (Vato Tsikurishvili) and, of course, the grand star of this little show-within-a-show, Nick Botttom. Irakli Kavsadze as Bottom is a genius of a physical comedian: his face as rubbery as Danny Kaye’s. Better, still, he carries himself with the grace of old-timer Jackie Gleason, that larger-bellied comic who could waltz with uncommon refinement as comic chaos reigned about him. Kavsadze’s clownish antics, hyper-exaggerated gestures and pompous demeanor are thrillingly funny and when an enchantment turns him into a donkey his fearless sense of his own misshapen body is spectacular. Hilarity ensues with his belly bared and distended, his knees bowed and his face melted into a foolish scowl, his chest bare (and hairy). It’s an exquisite solo turn, seriously droll, and, again as human Bottom when he plays a dying Egeus, he’s as lithe as a dying swan fading, melting in an achy death scene that’s sad, sweet and silly in equal parts.
The forest antics play out wildly, with chase scenes, bumbles, mishaps, like lost skirts and mistaken identity gaffs that mine the Shakespearean wit without a sound. Fully choreographed and lovingly performed on Simes’ moonlight set of thickly hanging ropes cum trees and some fairy-like oversized filigreed leaves and a gorgeous low-hanging crescent moon, from which Puck plays his human chess game.
Of course, “Midsummer” is beloved for the mix-and-match pairs, shuffling and reshuffling its primary couples, who ultimately find their intended and all is made right in love. I can’t think of a version of “Midsummer” that hasn’t left me sweetly charmed, even a bit teary eyed in Hallmark card fashion. But the Tsikurishvilis allow the curtain to fall by only squaring off their courtly couples. Just as they added a prologue birth scene, they’ve given us a final, fully satisfying twist: Bottom, too, finds his mate and, truly, “all’s well that ends well.”
That this plays out so effortlessly on the less-than-ideal auditorium-like stage at the Rosslyn Spectrum is of little consequence, for Synetic has revived old-fashioned stage magic, eschewing technical gadgetry to build props and sets of the simplest materials – ladders, cloth, ropes, makeup, lighting (Andrew Griffin’s glowing moonlight and dawn). Supported by an expert cast of movers who commit to fully making Shakespeare live, Synetic has become a jewel of the Washington, D.C., area theater community, but many of the region’s dance lovers have yet to notice. If you haven’t yet seen a Synetic production, now is the time to become acquainted with this fine troupe of actor/dancers.
Photos: Raymond Gniewek, courtesy Synetic Theater
Top: Alex Mills as Puck; middle: Vato Tsikurishvili, Natalie Berk and Irina Kavsadze; bottom: Philip Fletcher, Irina Tsikurishvili, Mary Werntz
Published September 22, 2009
© 2009 by Lisa Traiger