Antigone by Sophocles
Translated by Timberlake Werternbaker
Directed by: Tom Littler
Southwark Playhouse, May 2011
Commissioned by Svet a divadlo, Czech Republic
Antigone and The Arab Spring
Tom Littler’s adaptation of Sophocles’ Antigone, staged in the Middle East in reference to what media has termed as the Arab Spring, opened in London at the Southwark Playhouse with moderately positive critical acclaim. However, from the onset, this was a flawed production that strived for political theatre solely through a generic visual allegory. Perhaps it was the strength of Timberlake Wertenbaker’s translation that kept it afloat on the London scene- it’s filled with contemporary questions yet grounded in its Greek setting, which makes it a politically prone translation. However in the course of an hour and a half, it became clear that what Littler labelled as ‘Middle East’ was as Oriental as Disney’s Aladdin.
? Antigone is the most overtly political of all Sophoclean Theban tragedies. Contained within the walls of the city-state Thebes, the play problematizes the moral, political and social mechanisms of sovereign rule. The play not only features a female character as heroine, but also paves a discourse about private and public morality, the distinction between man and divine rule and, of course, the position of woman in society, reflected in the heroine’s own sacrifice not at the breaking of a divine rule, but for the appeasement of her sibling.
Characterized by Sophcoles’ temporal economy, Antigone takes place from dawn until dusk, following the first day in office of the newly-appointed Creon. The action of the play takes place after Oedipus’ death, at a moment of political turmoil caused by internecine war for kingship that has resulted in the death of both Polyneices and Eteocles, the two sons of the deceased ruler. The first rule the newly appointed Creon decrees states that the body of Polyneices, considered a traitor, will be refused burial. This act of defying the ‘Unwritten Law’ that protects the rights of the dead fuels Antigone’s desire to put right the body of her sibling in an act of defiance. As Creon is torn and ruined by his decision to defy a divine law, Antigone pays for her act of defiance.
The confrontational nature of the play has made it prone to juxtapositions with various totalitarian regimes in a series of potent adaptations. In this context, Antigone is often portrayed as a liberal rebel, fighting Nazis (Jean Anouillh, starring Vivien Leigh as Antigone) or communists (Bertholt Brecht (adapted from a translation by Johann CF Hölderlin) and Latin American dictators (in an adaptation by Luis Rafael Sanchez)
Antigone has undergone many successful adaptations in the UK- from Royal Shakespeare Company through to Declan Donnelan- as well as translation- from Seamus Heaney (The Burial at Thebes) through to Timberlake Wertenbaker. The Sophoclean concern with the rule of the divine versus that of man, with working out a new mechanism for Athenian democracy through the moral conduct of characters, presents an Aristotelean model for tragedy that is prone to interpretation and challenge- what can we learn from tragedies? After all, Antigone is a play about consequences.
Wertenbaker’s translation facilitates a dialogue between old and new political contexts - so it is natural that director Tom Littler has staged the tragedy in the current tumultuous climate of the The Arab Spring. A highly pertinent and challenging task in the context of a nation with a high Arab population, recently at war with Libya and an active presence in the Middle East, both politically and economically.
Littler sets out to explore ‘the lonely figure of the Middle Eastern ruler’ through Creon, making connections between the US disposal of Bin Laden’s body with Creon’s punishment for the Greek rebel. The visual language sediments the play as Oriental- generic Middle Eastern costumes, colourful, lined with jewels, are worn alongside military wear. In fact, this dialogue between the secular and the contemporary is also manifested in the scenography- a concrete temple fills the stage, barred fencing on either side. Rituals are accompanied by live, traditional Arab songs whilst men stand outside the fencing holding rifles. The chorus is a mix of representatives of the media- cameramen, reporters, photographers- as well as average citizens.
Antigone, played by Eleanor Wyld, is portrayed as a passionate, emotionally charged rebel eager to die for her cause, whilst her sister Ismene (Daisy Ashford) desperately tries to both please her and stay out of trouble. These two female characters wear hijabs and jewelled colourful dresses, whilst Creon, played by Jamie Glover, wears a smart, contemporary black suit. He is a charismatic leader stubborn yet eager to present a transparent morality and reinstate secular rules in this city devastated by civil war. It is a soldier who catches Antigonein the midst of her burial rituals to her brother, and brings her forward to Creon right at the end of his televised speech to his citizens. Antigone stands by her act of defiance in front of the lungee-wearing citizens and the reporters in tailored suits, speaking of the power of the divine law and the right of her sibling for burial, and as a result, she is locked away in a tomb and eventually commits suicide.
Indeed, Timberlake Wertenbaker’s translation of Antigone sediments the language of the play in a world where religion and politics are intertwined, fleshing out a tumultuous fable about religious fundamentalism, state control and the position of women in conflict. Yet Tom Littler’s adaptation presents a generic, romanticized view of a Middle East eager for change, focussing on Creon’s downfall as a result of a war of morality whilst portraying Antigone as a flawed rebel, a woman overcome by emotions unable to understand her own act of defiance.
? This production of Antigone is highly sympathetic to the conflicting decisions of a ruler so keen to cling on to power, torn between moralities, emerging from a bloodied war and keen to establish those who are martyrs and those who are traitors. Jamie Glover’s Creon plays a ruler whose charm is deceiving but whose actions are understandable. This, on a general level, is synonymous with the motivations and intentions of Middle Easter leaders, but what is problematic here is the lack of specificity.
Who is Littler referencing in his adaptation, and what is he trying to say about emerging rulers? It seems that in a way, Creon is the image of a revolution leader keen to establish a political and more importantly, moral conduct by by-passing religious values, in this case, his refusal to allow Polyneices the proper burial rite. On the other hand, Littler suggests that Creon is the ruler clinging on to power at whatever cost, his insecurities polluting his judgement. So Creon’s downfall fails to become a significant statement, for it exists between two images of rulers- both those who are clinging to power, and those who are about to emerge.
This strikes me as a missed opportunity- Sophocles’ Creon is a dramatic figure whose defiance of divine rule brings about his downfall- there is possibility here for a dramatic discourse on the very issues facing Arab rulers emerging to power; what will be the future regimes born in the Middle East? Will the rule be based on the same religiously motivated political regimes that function as totalitarian states, or will the future bring leaders able to negotiate these conflicts?
Creon’s charm, his lack of understanding towards the advice of family and even that of the oracle reveals the insecurities of a leader in the process of becoming a tyrant. Yet if Sophocles punishes this man who dares defy the rule of god, in Tom Littler’s production this is muffled by an attempt to portray two version of a leader without clarifying an internal conflict. By the end of the play, Creon is sitting on the steps of his castle, his family dead at his feet. It is unclear what this image represents in this production, for a visual metaphor without specificity is not enough to provide the context for reading such a complex and conflicting character. There is a modern-looking podium, and a traditional temple; citizens and the sovereign family are wearing similarly jewelled costumes filled with colour- the only distinct presence is made by soldiers and the media who make us part of the chorus. What sets out to be a discourse between the modern and the secular remains too vague. If this is a discourse on tyranny, then it doesn’t capitalize on the socio-political vocabulary that it so longs to appropriate.
? Sophocles’ Antigone is a courageous heroic woman who defines her defiance through the men she so deeply cares about- both her brother Polyneices and her father Oedipus. The private act of her burial is specifically a public, political act against the defiance of religious values, and in the end, her suicide only reinforces this.
With a play whose main protagonist is female, Littler by-passes a potent discourse on the position of motivated women eager to fight and rebel against oppression. Antigone seems extreme and overtly emotional from the beginning. She is a rebel, but a motivated one that braves a lot of social structures in order to adhere to the ultimate ‘Unwritten Law’, yet Eleanor Wyld is a much milder, emotional rebel. The position of a woman in the midst of a conflict is a particularly potent dramatic discourse, but Littler doesn’t capitalize on the play’s most unique feature.
? The real problem at the basis of Littler’s Antigone is the lack of refinement and specificity. Without a dramaturg involved in the process, the overall suggestion is that someone really hasn’t done their homework. Visual allegories have the potential to sediment the text of a play, especially when the possibilities for juxtaposition are so many, like in Antigone. Yet does a war-torn Middle East really look so bathed in color, its citizens wearing jewelled costumes, singing on the street whilst holding incense sticks during their rituals? Of course, theatre has the unique capacity to suggest a lot with very little, but when you’re relying on a visual allegory alone, that specificity- for the soldiers to carry the right kind of prop guns, for example- is crucial in suggesting to the audience what exactly they should be understanding.
In Littler’s productionthere is a lack of understanding in the visual language of a war-torn Middle East- perhaps this is due to not choosing to be specific about a location, or perhaps it falls on a desire to romanticize; yet without a concrete image, the text just become superfluous.
Despite its potential to paint a portrait of countries in the middle of social and political upheveal, Littler’s adaptation shies away from a politically potent discourse. Antigone attempts a political portrait through Greek tragedy, whilst allowing melodrama to make a dramaturgical impact. It fails because it’s more reminiscent of cultural imperialism than it is of political theatre, scratching the surface of its content without delving into its politics, be it the challenges of ruling over a worn-torn country, the influence of religious dogma over politics and the position of women in a conflict both secular and highly political.
Littler’s Antigone is a production that raises the question on how to approach the juxtaposition of old and new political systems, and upgrade a Greek tragedy to a piece of contemporary political theatre.
Tagged: Antigone, Czech Republic, Southwark Playhouse