The Trojan Women by Euripides (tr. Steve Lewis)
Diorama Arts Centre, April 2000. World Premiere.

One of the problems with Greek tragedy for a modern audience is finding an answer to the question “Did you enjoy the show?”. With plots that revolve around relentless death and despair for the main characters, one can find it moving, harrowing, edifying and thought provoking, but not really enjoyable. Nevertheless, it is an actor’s dream since all the main parts get several long speeches that usually come all in one hit, leaving plenty of time to nip off down the pub before the curtain call. However, if Greek tragedy is an actor’s dream, it is often a director’s nightmare since, not only do you have to find a way to make a two-and-a-half-thousand-year-old play relevant, but the same long speeches that actors love can leave the audience feeling like they’ve been lectured to for a couple of hours. This production, however, attacked the relevance problem with gusto—ably demonstrating that some themes are universal—and a strong ensemble cast gave a sense of realism and humanity to the characters despite their highly stylised speeches.

Director Steve Lewis chose a modern setting, informed by the images of last year’s Kosovo conflict—though it could have been any of the war-torn Balkan republics from the last ten years. It was a setting that worked well, since Euripides’ play follows the final moments of possibly the first-recorded incidence of ethnic cleansing. The victorious Greeks have either killed or enslaved all the Trojan men and the women are about to be resettled in Greece, facing a life of drudgery, rape or both. An imaginative set design by Andy Collier evoked the street of a burned out Kosovar village and, with its patchwork drapes and steeply raked rostrum, enabled the actors to create some exciting dynamics and changes of focus.

The only exceptions to the Balkan theme were the gods Poseidon (played with languid elegance by Christopher Lancaster) and Athene (a vivacious Katharine Peachey) who provide the prologue to the play and remind those of us for whom General Classics O-level is just a distant memory of the relevant events from the Trojan War. Their garb of black tie for Poseidon and a figure-hugging ball gown for Athene harked back to a Gatsby-era party and served to emphasise their lack of concern for the mortals whose lives they control (an oblique dig at Western policy in the Balkans perhaps?). Their plan to visit destruction on the returning Greek ships begins the catalogue of suffering that is worked out through the play.

The rest of the play centres on Hecuba, Queen of Troy and the fate of her family. Onstage throughout, she has to endure the news of the murders of both her daughter and grandson, the intended rape of another of her daughters and, finally, the total destruction of her home. It is an emotionally demanding part for an actor and by and large Lily Ann Green pulled it off with aplomb. Her sensitive characterisation developed many more facets to Hecuba than simply the grief-stricken mother and she even managed to find a moment of genuine humour in her scene with Menelaus .She did not perhaps hit quite the right pitch, as I found myself merely sympathising with her plight rather than feeling the mounting sense of visceral horror that Greek tragedy at its best can inspire. However, as it was only the second night there was certainly the potential for it to develop in subsequent performances.

There were accomplished performances too from those playing the other main characters. Lefteris Samaras as Talthybius brought life to the somewhat thankless role of the play’s harbinger of doom, while Clarisse East’s wild-haired Cassandra was study of grief-wrought madness. Cathy Burnell’s touching portrayal of Andromache was in large part responsible for what was the most moving scene of the play, in which she was ably abetted by Rory Fear as her son Astyanax, whose blonde, cherubic features were the picture of innocence and made the announcement of his execution all the more horrific. Richard Jones played an assured and arrogant Menelaus with enough self-doubt to make it believable that he would heed Hecuba’s counsel. Meanwhile, Joanne Brock’s portrayal of Helen injected an element of pathos into a character who is essentially the villain of the piece, since all the other characters blame her for starting the war.

Around the main action, and commenting on it were the Chorus of Trojan Women played by Louise Braithwaite, Georgina Smith, Jo Wilde, Angelique Winston, Alice Wright and Morag Galloway who also played a viola and flute accompaniment to some of the choral pieces. Theirs was a fine, disciplined ensemble effort and it would be wrong to single anyone out. The Chorus of a Greek tragedy can prove tricky for modern audiences and actors alike, as we no longer have a tradition of choral speaking, but here Steve Lewis and his Chorus managed to hit a happy medium between full choral speaking (and singing) and lines being spoken individually, that retained the theatricality of the former while allowing some character development for each of the Chorus members.

Overall the Kosovar theme worked well and, as Euripides was something of the “Angry Young Man” of Ancient Greece, I suspect that he would have approved of his play finding relevance in such a way in the modern world. The costumes (supervised by Tomayo Sano) caught the mood well with peasant garb for the Trojans and Serbian paramilitary style for the Greek soldiers (Trevor Ellis, John Johnston, Richard Thornton, and Andrew Watson), though putting Trevor and Richard in Aviator sunglasses was a mistake, as that “faceless” look has become so hackneyed for the authority figures of totalitarian regimes that it made them look comic.

But, minor gripes aside, the answer to that question? Well, no I didn’t enjoy the show, but I was absorbed by it, moved by it in places and genuinely shocked once, which to my mind counts as a success.