A season at the Odéon-Théâtre de l’Europe comprises projects thought up perhaps two or three years in advance, and others which present themselves there and then. Indeed, it is always astonishing to perceive the various threads, lines of thinking, and themes running these shows, and how they intermingle, echoing the era we live in. Once again, this season’s shows are at the crossroads between different generations and languages (French, Polish, German, English and Vietnamese).
Staging The School for Wives has been a long-standing desire for me. In the role of Arnolphe will be Claude Duparfait, who played Alceste in The Misanthrope under my direction, and then Orgon, here at the Odéon, in Tartuffe. There was no doubt in my mind that we needed to further this investigation into the neurotic central figures Molière adored bringing to the stage. Their existential anguish in response to the ways of the world provokes an electric response in us, on the border between laughter and dread. The parallel between the monstrous “maxims for marriage” that Arnolphe seeks to inculcate in the young girl he has brought up in complete isolation from the rest of the world, and the current resurgence of fundamentalist religious doctrines, had been present in my mind for some time now. I had little idea, however, of the extent to which the freeing up of discourse on violence towards women and the different forms of pressure they endure, would show The School for Wives in such a harsh light.
Neither did I have any idea that Simon Stone, one of our associate artists, would present us with an impromptu proposal to look again at Shakespeare, Ford and Middleton, from the point of view of the major female roles. He will be shedding new light upon these female figures, ensnared in a dramaturgy which condemns them either to the rank of abused, mistreated object or systemically punishes them for their independence.
In Marie Rémond’s adaptation of Cataract Valley, written by the little-known American authoress, Jane Bowles, we will also be investigating the female roles. Held in high esteem by her peers Tennesse Williams and Truman Capote, the women she pens have a strangely awkward relationship with the world before them.
The theatre is also a formidable sound box. The fact that this season’s projects are strongly influenced by current political and societal issues is of no surprise to me. It is often the case that today’s contemporary artists seize upon this material and use it as the basis for their work.
The major invited shows from all over Europe will be setting the tone.
Lupa will be presenting us with his Trial, based on the novel by Kafka. The trials and tribulations of the creative process behind the production somehow echo the novel itself. After an initial development phase at the Wroclaw theatre, development work on the play came to an abrupt halt when the director of the theatre was replaced by a puppet-like, media-friendly figure, manipulated by the powers that be. Rehearsals on the play then resumed in Krakow thanks to support in Poland from the artists Warlikowski and Jarzyna, and the mobilization of several theatres in France (particularly the Odéon, which has been presenting shows by Lupa since 1998). As such, this Trial alone constitutes a stand for freedom of speech in the face of opaque bureaucratic powers.
In Falk Richter’s baroque production, this echo will continue with the satirical, profound, monumental writing of Elfriede Jelinek, an Austrian author following in the footsteps of her compatriot Thomas Bernhard. The mere fact that Jelinek began writing Am Königsweg [On the Royal Road] on the night of Donald Trump’s election victory should give us a shrewd idea as to what the show is about. It delivers a sharp blow against authoritarian power-mongers and their hatred of all forms of independent thought. Much to my dismay, these same figures surf on the new waves of populism, obscene economic disparity and social distress prevalent here in Europe.
In Love, a delicate, tender production, Alexander Zeldin, the young UK author and director, will be confronting us with the reality of the unemployed, migrants and penniless pensioners. His work, presented here for the first time in France, is a cry ringing out against the brutality of the world.
France’s young generation of theatre makers will also be present, very much so. For his first production as an Odéon associate artist, Sylvain Creuzevault will be presenting an adaptation of Dostoevsky’s novel Demons, and Julien Gosselin will be tackling three works by the immense American novelist, Don Delillo. Thanks to the collective efforts of Creuzevault, Gosselin and their faithful collaborators, the forces of individualism, revolutionary nihilism, mystical temptation, radicalism and terrorism that underlie these major literary works will be coming under the microscope on the Odéon stages.
Following on from Tristesses, Anne-Cécile Vandalem will be returning to the Odéon with a new political thriller that doubles up as a futurist comedy. Arctique is set in 2025, in Greenland, which global warming has transformed into a safe haven for refugees from war-torn Europe. As for Jean-François Sivadier, he will be staging what is undeniably the most political of Ibsen’s works, An Enemy of the People. The play is as relevant today as it was when it was written, and serves as a reminder that crises related to sanitation often carry with them more than their fair share of economic interests...
With Les Idoles, Christophe Honoré will be taking us back to the “AIDS years” and the profound changes they brought about in society and in our lives. Alongside his team of actors, he will be paying homage to six artists (writers, film-makers, and playwrights) who succumbed to AIDS during the 1990’s. Underlying his production will be this question: “How are we going to dance now?”. Amongst theses figures from the past, Jean-Luc Lagarce’s presence will be two-fold, as Clément Hervieu-Léger will be staging The Distant Land, Lagarce’s final, testamentary, and utterly magnificent work.
Lastly, this season sees a re-run of one of the highlights of last year’s programme: Saigon, by Caroline Guiela Nguyen. Featuring a mixture of French and Vietnamese actors, the play takes an intimate look at this episode of France’s colonial history. In counterpoint to Saigon, we will also be presenting another work by Caroline Guiela Nguyen specially for this occasion, namely Mon grand amour, an hors les murs production set in an apartment.
In the same way as all these productions will be delving deep into the secret lives of human beings in search of the political, so too will the uniqueness of their intimate lives be brought into contact with the world. From this will emerge fresh dialogue, a mechanism which, for me, is theatre’s true vocation.
Stéphane Braunschweig