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John Duykers and Herbert Perry
in IN THE PENAL COLONY
directed by Joanne Akalaitis.
Photo: Chris Bennion |
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In the Penal Colony
Operatic Adaptation of
Franz Kafka's 1914 novella
Music by Philip Glass;
Libretto by Rudolph Wurlitzer
Directed by JoAnne Akalaitis
November 11, 8 PM. through December 10.
Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis, 773-753-4472.
The Court Theatre is the second touring stop for the chamber opera IN THE PENAL COLONY, which premiered on August 31, 200 at A Contemporary Theatre (ACT) in Seattle, Washington. The third stop will be New York City. Court Theatre's production of IN THE PENAL COLONY, is a harrowing theatrical experience. The pun is intended; for the Harrow, a death machine, is the central image of Franz Kafka's 1914 novella, which is the basis of Rudolph Wurlitzer's libretto. Philip Glass composed the music for this libretto. The score is written for a string quartet plus a double bass with two singing roles and three non-singing roles. All five of the male actors are of estimable abilities. Yet, although the production is virtually flawless in uniting the libretto and the music, there is something too calculating, too measured, and too intellectual in Director JoAnne Akalaitis' approach to the source material. IN THE PENAL COLONY is ninety minutes of cool contemplation of the existential experience; it is Kafka without angst. Ironically, viewing a soul-less adaptation of such an exquisitely intense work is a harrowing experience; one anxiously wonders when the production will engage the heart as well as the mind. It never does.
IN THE PENAL COLONY begins with Kafka speaking words from his diaries. The effect of this addition to the plot of the novella is to make the opera less dramatic and more distanced from the audience. Indeed, this effect was the director's intention:
In director Joanne Akalaitis' hands, IN THE PENAL COLONY has been transformed from an adaption of a Kafka short story into a meditation on Kafka's writing and imagination. Akalaitis achieved this effect by adding Kafka himself to the world of the opera. This character is played by an actor, not a singer, and speaks texts taken from Kafka's diary entries. Akalaitis plays with portraying Kafka thinking/dreaming/writing the story at the same time that the story is portrayed on the stage. This character is now an intrinsic part of IN THE PENAL COLONY, but the idea began with a director's need to explore not only Kafka's short story, but Kafka's imagination. Celise Kalke, "A Directors' Theatre," Classic Magazine, vol 1, no. 2 (2000).
Because Kafka is always on the stage as the story evolves, the audience cannot ever be emotionally involved in the action. IN THE PENAL COLONY is a study of Kafka, not a dramatic rendering of Kafka's study of humanity. The story itself centers around the horrific premise that in an African penal colony at the turn of the century, a tortuous capital punishment is meted out by a death machine, the Harrow, which inscribes the broken law onto the skin of the offender with pulsing needles. Death occurs within six to twelve hours, only after the prisoner experiences an epiphany. A visitor who has come to the nameless island prison is invited to witness an execution by the Harrow, which was put into service by the late commander. The presiding officer explains the history and the function of the machine. When the visitor objects to its use because it is inhumane and antiquated, the officer argues that justice is not possible without the machine. He removes the condemned man from the machine and substitutes himself for the prisoner.
This is the stuff of high drama—human cruelty, the roles of justice, loyalty, obsession, sacrifice! But, as presented in IN THE PENAL COLONY, the focus never moves to the visceral. Philip Glass' music is minimalist, repetitious, and atonal. The onstage, costumed quintet gives a measured performance—without brio. The double bass adds a moody and dispiriting note. Intellectually, this music blends perfectly with an existential meditation on Kafka. The two singers, tenor John Duykers (Visitor) and baritone Eugene Perry (Officer) have marvelous voices, but sing the libretto as if in a trance. The blocking of all of the actors has them punctuating their movements to notes of the score and often moving in lockstep. This creates an almost marionette imagery that is far from the concept of the woes and trials of a human being. Even the force of the fabulous lighting and sets, by Jennifer Tipton and John Conklin, which all too realistically create the Harrow, are counterbalanced by the projections onto the floor of the set of Kafka's words. It is difficult to empathize with the characters' conflicts and emotions and read about them, simultaneously.
The Press Release for IN THE PENAL COLONY asserts that "[i]n the hands of Glass and Akalaitis, this penetrating tale of human suffering and self-realization becomes a "mesmerizing theatrical meditation on obsession, transcendence, transfiguration and change." Court Theatre's production is indeed a full and thoughtful meditation. Yet the same elements that effectuate this intellectual contemplation never allow the production to penetrate to the soul of Kafka's tale.
--Sandra Marie Lee
IN THE PENAL COLONY. Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis, 773-753-4472.
Previews through November 10: Wednesdays-Thursdays, 7:30 PM;
Fridays-Saturdays, 8 PM; Sundays, 2:30 and 7:30 PM.
$24-$28. Opens Saturday, November 11, 8 PM. Through
December 10: Wednesdays-Thursdays, 7:30 PM; Fridays, 8
PM; Saturdays, 3 and 8 PM; Sundays, 2:30 and 7:30 PM;
Thursday, December 7, 2 and 7:30 PM; Saturday, December
9, 8 PM only; no show Thursday, November 23. $28-$38;
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