Discovery always comes with a gleam on it, whether it be the tomb of
Tutankhamun or the recovery of that especial biro that you lost the day before
yesterday. Bertolt Brecht has till now, I’m afraid, been something of a closed
stage to me, so I came to this production with, you might say, an open mind.
But I was very soon filled and rewarded by the discovery of fascinating new
territory. I could not, it seems to me, have had a more excellent interpretation
of the Chalk Circle than this by Ben Horslen and Bill Risebero. I was
unprepared for the lightness which comes over in a fine flourish from the
colour and the music. (The musicians under Leo Duarte played their full part
in establishing this new territory.) Colour in the costumes by Christine
Risebero made a vivid impression. Lightness, yes – and humour, of course. So
well handled by all concerned, particularly by Moray Jones in the wedding’
scene, and later by Bill Risebero himself – but more of that in time.
The singer, Arkadi, played with great assurance by Sarah Barron, took all our
attention. She looked splendid and sang truly and poignantly. In a
production where (at the last count) 16 actors play 80 parts one cannot but
salute the skill with which they all change character and coats, and of the
speed and grace with which they change places on the stage. The aggressive
Ironshirts, epitomised by David Gardner, make their sinister mark upon the
story. I have many pictures in my mind of the actors before me – particularly
when Asdak the Judge sits high on the judgement seat, while those who wait
upon his words surround him below.
Brecht, of course, is concerned with large and humane issues such as care for
the poor and justice in its true form – something different from legality.
Indeed – though he subscribed to no faith – he seems to be saying that he who
would gain his life will lose it, and that the meek will inherit the earth – (as
someone once said, if they don’t, no one else will.) But he is also concerned
with the enduring human emotions such as pity and love. Grusha the young
servant girl (most attractively played by Hannah Williams) engages all our
sympathy in her growing love for the abandoned child, and her love for her
fianc‚, Simon, whom she fears to lose. It is a good and convincing story
(Andrew Grieve is a very engaging lover, and the scene when they are
reconciled is truly moving.)
And so we come to the denoument. And Azdak. Who makes the final choice
as to who will keep the child: Grusha who has devoted cared for him, or the
Governor’s wife (a wicked witch finely interpreted by Sally Wallen) who has
abandoned him in favour of her ball gowns. Azdak, the drunken and
reprobate judge, is a wonderful character, and it was splendid to see Bill
Risebero take to it with such assurance. He is very funny, and of course
something more – and entirely convincing. His so convenient and interntional
error’ in divorcing not the aged couple who have never liked each other, but
Grusha from the moribund peasant whom she has married when in desperate
straits, crowns the way of justice that Azdak follows. This with the reuniting
of Grusha with her lover gives one a sense of cords disentangling, of the world
– for a time, at any rate – turning kind.
Brecht demands a lot from his performers – that becomes increasingly evident.
And very evident too is the total commitment of all involved in this
prodduction – both those onstage, and those behind the scenes. (Is lighting
behind the scenes? Certainly Howard Hudson worked his usual magic.) And
John Risebero played his part in his skillful design of the set. But how to end
this complex and fascinating story which frequently turns the accepted shape
of things upside down? …
Why with a dance, of course.
And so they take to the floor, Grusha and Simon, the old couple who never
liked each other, and the rest of those on the stage. And as I watched them,
revolving gently in time to the music, I had a sense of past productions as well
as the excellence of the present. How good to come again to the Church, to
see new territory discovered, a play performed with such dedication and such
art.
The Caucasian Chalk Circle
Diana Raymond