Sherman Cymru’s ‘Clytemnestra’

"When we've killed all the animals 

Men will be next."

Jaye Griffiths 

I absolutely love Greek Tragedy. Drama based on human suffering often provides fantastic opportunities for powerful, compelling staging, and being promised dramatic story-telling from the former National Poet of Wales, Gwyneth Lewis and bold direction from Amy Hodge, I was understandably excited. On seeing the set I was even more convinced that what I was about to see would not only be powerful, but gripping and bloody. The set, a dystopian abattoir with blood splattered up the white tiles, was intense and macabre; the production had amazing potential. Enter writhing, heavy breathing actors: evil spirits utilised to urge characters to perform heinous deeds whilst simultaneously meant to represent the traditional Greek Chorus. It’s frustrating when a production refuses to let the audience witness the inner mental turmoil of condemned characters without insisting on external devices. Not only is it slightly patronizing to an audience, but it’s extremely distracting; at one point I was so close to a contorted spirit, I had to tuck my legs in from the stage. These creatures were inexplicably physical, rolling about the stage and talking in shrill whispers. It left me incredibly unconvinced of Clytemnestra’s mental instability, and made me question her motives, when ordinarily said motives should have been obvious. Having said that, an image which was extremely powerful and ensured a feeling of warped sympathy was the image of Clytemnestra, knelt down in a dreamy bewilderment, rapidly scooping the ashes of her daughter into her open mouth in order to re-consume her child.
 
Gwyneth Lewis manages to include a clear narrative, but I couldn’t help but feel that this was done in an untactful way. At one point, an abattoir worker stands looking offstage filling the audience in, but doing so in such a way, it sounded as if he was reading from an internet information page. I must observe however, that the scenes at the abattoir with the three workers, although slightly jarring with the scenes of Clytemnestra’s descent into madness, were a highlight. The dialogue was fast-paced and amusing and provided a small amount of light into an otherwise dense production. 


Clytemnestra herself, played by Jaye Griffiths, had fantastic potential as a character. She was essentially a female Titus, cascading into a grief ridden hysteria which would inevitably drive her to murder. Why then was this descent so anti-climactic?  Shakespeare wrote, “Extremity of griefs would make men mad”, but I couldn't help but think that the extremity of Clytemnestra’s grief made her merely ‘temporarily irrational.’ Agamemnon hands over his and Clytemnestra’s daughter Iphigenia to a feral gang who brutally rape and murder her. The severity of such barbarous acts committed against her child surely provides an enormous opportunity for a tremendous act of revenge. So she stabs him offstage then re-enters wearing some fancy red-laced gloves. There was potential here for her to re-enter covered in her husband's blood, stood centre stage brandishing the knife, her terrifying psychological destruction visible in her emotion. This was the climactic ending the play, and indeed the audience, deserved. But it never arrived. Instead, Agamemnon’s corpse hung upside down at the back of the stage as a visual representation of Clytemnestra’s revenge. It just wasn’t powerful enough.
 
At the Edinburgh Fringe last year, I went to see Action  to the Word’s production of ‘Titus Andronicus’. Similar to the story of Clytemnestra, Titus is a play which requires visual atrocities and bloodshed. Although this is not always enjoyable in a production,(at one point, Tamora spat her flesh pie out into the audience and it landed happily with a dreadful splat on my leg) sometimes a narrative calls for it: Clytemnestra was one of these narratives. It’s a shame it never got that. I believe that by pushing the boundaries that bit further, the production would have lived-up to its potential. But maybe I’m just gore obsessed. In a purely theatrical sense of course.

 Clytemnestra runs from April 18, 2012 at 7:30pm to May 5, 2012 at 9:30pm
Location: Sherman Cymru

Action to the Word's 'Titus Andronicus' in Edinburgh