Robin Roger
(This article appeared in the November 14, 2002, edition of the Taconic Weekend. Reprinted with permission of the Gazette Advertiser.)
With its production of Jean Anouilh’s “Antigone,” Robin Roger believes the Cocoon Theatre in Rhinebeck has delivered one of the best dramas she’s seen in quite some time.
“Antigone”
Cocoon Theatre, Rhinebeck
8 p.m. • Thursday-Saturday • Nov. 14, 15 & 16
3 p.m. • Sunday, Nov. 17
(845) 876-6470
It’s not often you get to see a play where the characters are so real, it feels as though you could leave your seat and join them. This is the case with the up-close-and-personal production of Jean Anouilh’s “Antigone” at the Cocoon Theatre in Rhinebeck.
The small theater helps create an intimate setting, while seating that wraps around three sides of the stage puts you so close to the action that you can touch the back of Antigone’s skirt with your toes.
In fact, there was one moment in particular when Haemon (played by Jason Spadanuta-Costello) spoke to Antigone, and it felt as though he could have been gazing intently at me, and speaking to me, because he was that close.
Director Ellen Honig should be praised for her intense blocking. It seems as though she encouraged the actors to interact with the audience as much as possible. The chorus (played by Lorna deZengotita and John LeFever) even make eye contact during their powerful speeches.
All this intimacy may prove unsettling to some audience members, but it fits nicely with the producer’s aims. I find it thrilling. You could gain a whole new perspective on the play if you sat in a different position, so it’s a play you can see more than once.
Producer Marguerite San Millan says there are two types of theater: one that makes you forget, and one that makes you think. She says she wants to make the audience think. When you are invited to step into the world the characters inhabit, you have no choice but to think of what you would do.
Rachel Posner, who plays Antigone, says she likes to think she would act upon her convictions as Antigone does. After seeing her passionate portrayal, it is easy to imagine she would. Packed in that slender body is a powerful voice.
Adept at avoiding melodrama, Posner offers lines with sincerity, rather than forced gravity. Antigone’s moralizing is best seen in her discussion with Creon, when she makes statements such as, “What a person can do, a person should do.” Antigone does seem naïve and impetuous at times, and Creon provides a strong defense for his questionable actions.
Creon decreed that no one shall bury the body of Antigone’s brother Polynices. She defies him to save his soul from wandering. Creon tells Antigone he will cover up the incident, but when she says she will continue to bury him, at her peril, he says he has no choice but to have her killed.
Michael Juzwak plays Creon not as a villain, but as a man forced into a position of power, who must sacrifice his personal feelings and sense of justice for the good of the city he governs. Juzwak’s deep voice is imposing, but he shows Creon’s compassion toward his son, and even Antigone.
Creon’s world is filled with shades of gray, while Antigone sees only in black and white. This makes Creon more of a pragmatist than a tyrant, it seems. It is almost easy to side with Creon when he tells Antigone that he must do these things to keep order in Thebes and she should simply enjoy life and try to be happy.
It all seems simple until Antigone asks, “To whom must I sell myself to be happy?” Long ago, Creon surrendered his personal desires and convictions to become a leader, while Antigone still has the freedom, albeit with the penalty of death, to act on her convictions.
Anouilh first presented this (based on Socrates’ story) in Nazi-occupied Paris in 1942. The French audience related to Antigone, while the Nazis presumably found a kindred spirit in Creon. It is easy to relate the situation in Thebes to our own time. It is difficult, however, to decide who is right.
The theme of black vs. white can be seen in the costumes, as well as the setting. Posner as Antigone is dressed all in black, with her long, dark, wild hair left down. Galadriel Rosin, who plays her sister Ismene, is dressed in pink, with her blond hair pulled back cleanly.
Andres San Millan designed a bare setting, consisting of an altar and a few stools, all painted white, with silver swirls. The floor is the same, and the curtains were made of white plastic.
The lighting was particularly effective when it reflected off the white plastic and shone colorfully on the characters. In one scene, Ismene and Antigone argue over the burial of their brother and they are bathed in blue light, which is really quite beautiful and dramatic.
If all this sounds a little too heavy, you will be pleased to find that there is comic relief. Gregor Trieste made a wonderful first guard, with his impeccable comic timing and line delivery. His best moment was at the end of the play when he rambled to Antigone about rank. She informs him that she is to die soon, and he just continues talking, unaffected.
The audience also chuckled at some of the surprising tongue-in-cheek lines issued by all the characters. From beginning to bloody end, the play proves completely engrossing, and the two hours go by quickly.
By the way, I didn’t just ruin the ending, because, as the chorus informs the audience, tragedy has no room for that despicable thing called hope. If you are familiar at all with the genre, you will know that everyone must die. Well, just about everyone. The chorus tells it like it is. In tragedy, nothing is in doubt; everyone’s destiny is known.
Robin Roger appreciates the kind of theater that makes her think, but also enjoys a good chuckle. She recommends seeing “Antigone” for both.