Those stout defenders of "traditional values" who rail on about today's decadent entertainments and pine for the good old days obviously didn't spend much time in mythology class. The ancient Greeks were pretty twisted, at least in their stories. Daughters lusting after fathers, mothers twisting off their son's heads, stuck-up mortals being transformed into spiders and trees by jealous gods -- many of these ancient tales throb with sex, violence and the ever-present threat of years of psychotherapy. (It's no wonder that Freud loved affixing Greek names to his various complexes.) You've never quite tasted revenge until it's been served up to you in the form of your son as stew of the day.
Ruth Griffin, who directs the highly effective "Tales from Ovid" (continuing through Saturday at Fresno State's Woods Theatre), a translation of free verse by Ted Hughes, has a keen tactile sense of the inherent dysfunction of the material. She also finds a sense of human redemption within its often bizarre parameters, which is just as important.
Griffin teaches dance and physical theater at the university, and every fiber of this production pulses with movement. This title was a great pick for Griffin. By bringing together both dancers and actors from Fresno State -- and freely interchanging their duties -- she's managed to craft a show that, while not always perfect, has its own powerful rhythm. An added bonus is a moody and atmospheric original score by Fresno State music professor Brad Hufft.
[Photo: "Narcissus and Echo" by Jon Bock, part of the art exhibition in the Lyles Gallery in conjunction with the show.]
Hughes, who was famous as Britain's poet laureate, translated the Roman poet Ovid in 1997. Many adaptations of Ovid's famed "Metamorphoses" stories have been done over the years -- including a recent version staged by Mary Zimmerman on Broadway in 2002 -- and this one includes several of the well-known tales, including that of Midas, Narcissus and Echo, and Arachne and Minerva.
From the start, when the regal Jupiter (strongly played by Tom Linder) invites "the supernatural beings" to come forward and tell their stories, Griffin's choreography and blocking swirls with energy. The large cast early on forms a big, S-like shape. Twisting and writhing as they unleash a babble of dialogue upon the audience, the performers come together as an interconnected unit. This snake of a formation suggests a motif that we'll come back to again and again: that serpent, always moving, slithering in and out of tight spaces, representing perhaps the dark underbelly of human intentions?
The tales are self-contained. In "Echo and Narcisssus," Bryce Earp -- one of the show's standout performers -- plays the famed character who falls in love with himself. Griffin stages his reflection (Chris Huebschle, another strong performer) in the "water" beneath him, thanks to Izzy Einsidler's potent and important lighting design. In the stormy tale "Bacchus and Pentheus," the king, Pentheus (played with confidence by Fresno State veteran Matthew Schiltz), faces down a mob of city dwellers. Just as she did in the serpent scene, Griffin finds a way to meld her actors/dancers into sort of a multi-person single organism. As Pentheus delivers a towering monologue, the mob -- whose members are all touching and clutching each other -- slowly shifts around him, swirling and swaying with an almost religious intensity.
In terms of acting, I was particularly entranced by the first-act closer, "Arachne and Minerva," featuring a spitfire of an Arachne (a vivid Samantha Calabrese) and an aloof and frosty Minerva (Singleton Yost). The dancing and choreography was superb in "Salmacis and Hermaphroditus," with Earp and Calabrese rolling together in unison.
Stephanie Bradshaw's costume design is another of the production's strengths. Her mostly muted color palette is splashed with occasional vivid hues and gaudy patterns, spicing things up without overwhelming the eye. I also like the way that the costume design complements various body shapes of actors and dancers without accentuating the differences.
"Tales from Ovid" does have its flaws. At 130 minutes including intermission, it feels a little long for the intensity of the material. At times, Griffin lets her choreography trail on, such as at the conclusion of "Arachne and Minerva." It's such a stunning visual when Arachne reaches up to trace an illuminated spider web -- a key feature in Matthew McGee's inventive, cave-like set -- that the first act could end right there. Instead, Griffin prolongs the action with more dancing that seems superfluous. This is one of those cases when less definitely would have been more.
I also found the whole "Midas" story jarring and too broadly played. Yosef Mahmood, who plays Midas, has a terrific stage presence in other roles (Tiresias and Storyteller), and as another Fresno State veteran, he is a really strong performer. But his giddy Midas just didn't work for me. I can see where Griffin was trying for a bit of levity to balance the rest of the somber material, but in this case, she went too far.
Still, those are minor flaws in an otherwise engaging evening. "Tales from Ovid" is, in the end, moving, and in more ways than one. Those twisted Greeks get a staging that is commensurate with their wonderful weirdness. I'm excited to see such dynamic physical theater on stage at Fresno State.
I don't know if I'll see the show, but thanks for inspiring me to go find my copy of "Metamorphoses" and thumb through it again.
I mean... if "Rock of Love Bus" isn't on or anything.
I have to disagree with you about Yosef Mahmood's portrayal of Midas. I believe that Griffin hit the nail square on the head by following such an intense tale as that of "Myrrha" with something so comical. Everyone in my viewing certainly needed that bit of relief. Notably, "Midas" was the only tale to receive its own individual applause, which should speak volumes about its success.