On February 25, the Court Theater presented director Gabrielle Randle-Bent’s production of Sophocles’s Antigone. On one hand, the loose interpretation of the classic Greek tragedy is disorienting from the outset by the extreme divergence of this production from Sophocles’s original text. On the other hand, the play is, in my opinion, one of the rare cases where a modern rendition of classic theater doesn’t completely miss the mark.
Antigone follows the titular Antigone’s (Ariel Williams) struggle against King Creon of Thebes (Timothy Edward Kane), who has decreed that it will be illegal for anyone to bury Antigone’s brother Polyneices, a former rival. When Antigone decides to defy this law and go through with the burial, she is sentenced to death. This story seems fairly simple, but as is common with ancient Greek theater, a web of family ties adds complexity to the plot. Family loyalties complicate matters personally both for Antigone, because of her bond with her law-abiding sister Ismene (Ariana Burks), and for Creon, because of his son Haimon’s impending marriage to Antigone.
As someone who is fairly comfortable with the original text of Antigone, this production was simultaneously confusing and thought-provoking in its numerous tweaks. I appreciated the emphasis placed on music and movement, especially with the two main “poets” that serve as narrators, Euboule (Cage Sebastian Pierre) and Demophilus (Danielle Davis). The way in which translator Nicholas Rudall infuses a poetic and musical quality into scenes including the poets is without a doubt impressive. But by the same token, audience members without a clear understanding of the original Antigone will likely find themselves seriously confused and distracted by the refrains and dance-like movements performed by the poets. In these unnecessary moments of dancing, I even found myself repeatedly asking, “Why?”
With respect to the plot, Randle-Bent effectively conveys the essential points—which is worthy of praise. Many modern interpretations of classic theater tend to get lost in the trappings of modern theater and can turn a show completely away from its classical roots.
One of Randle-Bent’s exceptional directorial choices comes in the opening scene of the show. In an intimate moment, Antigone braids Ismene’s hair, and this concretely establishes the nature of the relationship and the differences between the two sisters. Antigone is the elder and more mature sister, and Ismene younger and innocent. This characterization is further emphasized by the production’s memorably modern costuming, done by Raquel Adorno. Ismene remains in a pink dress studded with flowers for the entirety of the show; on the contrary, Antigone wears a white, pearl-embellished top and a silver skirt with black tights underneath. Although white can illustrate innocence, its contrast with the black accents points to confusion and conflict. The visual juxtaposition between the two sisters helps develop a contrast between the two women, and simultaneously gives Randle-Bent the grounds to seamlessly link deviance to death, and subservience to life.
The play ends in a scene which completely changes the traditional script, which at first confused me—but in retrospect was, I think, extremely intentional and perhaps even feminist. In this interpretation of Antigone, Randle-Bent chooses to close the show with a sort of lamentation from Ismene instead of one from Creon; an interesting choice for a tragedy, considering the show ends with Ismene’s survival instead of total death. Because of Randle-Bent’s emphasis on Antigone and Ismene’s relationship as distinct characters, this choice makes complete sense. Ismene’s choice to follow the law ultimately gains her the “privilege” of life, whereas Antigone’s death is the result of her disobedience. Randle-Bent’s production allows the audience to perceive both women as feminists, one through life and one in death.
In a conversation with Professor Agnes Callard about the show’s hints of feminism, Callard said, “I think the thing that struck me about this production was first that it foregrounded the relationship between Antigone and Ismene in a way that no other production I’ve ever seen does.” She went on to say that the show places emphasis more so on their bond rather than their disagreements, which she says is “more specific than feminism. It’s sisterhood.”
Although I do agree that Randle-Bent highlights sisterhood beautifully in this production, I disagree that it’s “more specific” than feminism. In fact, I think Randle-Bent succeeds in making Antigone feminist by using sisterhood to point out the differences between the two women. Although Antigone dies because of her deviance from the norm, Ismene survives. And survival is itself a form of feminism.
