Showing posts with label Amy Morgan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amy Morgan. Show all posts

Monday, 14 November 2016

Travesties

by Tom Stoppard

seen at the Menier Chocolate Factory on 12 November 2016

This revival of Stoppard's coruscating 1974 play inspired by the coincidental presence of James Joyce, Tristan Tzara and Vladimir Ilyich Lenin in Zurich in 1917 is directed by Patrick Marber and features Tom Hollander as Henry Carr, Amy Morgan as his sister Gwendolen, Tim Wallers as his servant Bennett, Peter McDonald as Joyce, Clare Foster as his amanuensis Cecily, Forbes Masson as Lenin, Sarah Quist as his wife Nadya, and Freddie Fox as Tzara.

Joyce really was the business manager of an amateur theatrical group which presented The Importance of Being Earnest; Carr (a member of the British diplomatic staff in Zurich) really did take part in the play and there was a squabble between them about finances. From this situation, together with the fact that Lenin departed from Zurich in late 1917 with the connivance of Germany to make his way to the Russia to instigate the Bolshevik revolution, and the fact that Tristan Tzara, the notorious Dadaist, was also in the city, Stoppard constructed a play in which Carr reminisces about his interactions with all three men - though it is clear that his memories are highly questionable.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

The Broken Heart

by John Ford

seen at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse on 24 March 2015

Directed by Caroline Steinbeis with Brian Ferguson as Orgilus, Amy Morgan as Penthea, Sarah MacRae as Calantha, Owen Teale as Bassanes, and Luke Thompson as Ithocles.

The play is set in Sparta, with references to the gods, Delphi and oracles to underline its pre-Christian milieu. The word 'spartan' evokes notions of stoicism and self-denial as ideal character traits; the modern connotations of frugality and austerity arise as the consequence of rigorous personal self-control, not as mere descriptions of the physical or economic environment. Thus there is an atmosphere of self-denial and self-control assumed to essential aspects of civic virtue, and this permeates and poisons the relationships in the play.