The Bacchae (2014)

2014 – The Bacchae by Euripides

 Athens & Epidaurus Festival

Thy wisdom is no wisdom... A god in human form establishes his cult in Thebes. Announcing himself--“Lo! I Dionysus son of Zeus am come to this land of Thebes”--he will exact vengeance on the royal family of his mother, Semele, who would not believe she bore the son of Zeus. Nature competes reason and the religious experience of the bakkheia evolves into a ritualistic rending and devouring of raw flesh, an allusion to the cycle of death and rebirth.

Armed with a powerful cast and a willingness to take directorial risks, Angela Brouskou takes on the Bacchae (405 BC) in Giorgos Cheimonas’ translation. The adversaries, Dionysus and Pentheas, are played respectively by Aglaia Pappa and Aristeidis Servetalis.

   

Translation :G. Chimonas
Direction- costume: A. Brouskou
Assistant director: Ch. Papadopoulou
Music - sound designer: D. Kamarotos
Choreographer- motion: H.Malkotsis
Lighting designer: N. Vlasopoulos
Video artist- photographer: P.Evangelidis
Scenery: S. Litinas


Cast:Dionysus: Aglaia Pappa

Pentheus: Aristides Servetalis

Teiresias: Maria Kitsou

Cadmus: Giorgos Mpiniaris

Servant - First Messenger: Argyris Pantazaras

Second Messenger: Parthenopi Mpouzouri

Agave: Angela Brouskou

Chorus:

Constantina Angelopoulou, Maria Athinaiou, Leonora Gaitanou, Dimitra Gliati, Maria Kitsou, Georgios Biniaris, Parthenopi Bouzouri, Antonis Stamopoulos, Valia Papachristou, Argyris Pantazaras, Charis Charalambous

 

Director's Note:

I saw the daughters of Cadmus being beaten in Omonia Square, raving, drunk, in foreign tongues.

I saw the Messenger, out of breath, lying stabbed on the pavement.

I saw Agave, half – naked on the edge of a rooftop, threatening to jump.

I saw the living room furniture of the family strewn in the street,
under the rain.

I saw the Bacchae singing in the police station.

I saw Pentheus praying over the family tomb, wearing his mother’s black dress.

I saw Cadmus shooting himself with his military service revolver.

I saw the leopard in the closet, finished off by the moths.

I saw women working as prostitutes polishing the silver with their breath.

I saw Teiresias, dressed as a woman, reciting Nietzsche in his high – pitched voice at the meat market:

- Oh woe! Tearing down such a beautiful world with one sudden movement of your hand! And down it goes, in a pile.

I saw the dogs weeping silently, with the human tears of city animals.

And then, finally,
I saw Dionysus, that little possessed gypsy god, laughing atop the pile of my garbage, beating an empty tin can and saying, over and over again:

- I am Dionysus, I am come... I am come... I am here... Spare a euro?

Finally, as I left on the ferry boat and the music continued to ring in my head,
I saw the effect of tragedy on the pungent reality and dove into the sea
to save myself.

ANGELA BROUSKOU

 

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