Electra
by Nick Payne after Sophocles
The Gate Theatre in association with the Young Vic
Carrie Cracknell is associate director at the Young Vic and was formerly joint artistic director of the Gate Theatre with Natalie Abrahami (2007â2012), where her productions included Breathing Irregular, Hedda, I Am Falling (also at Sadlerâs Wells and nominated for a South Bank Show Award in Dance), Armageddon and The Sexual Neuroses of Our Parents. Other directing credits include A Dollâs House (Young Vic), Dolls (National Theatre of Scotland), Stacy (Tron, Glasgow), A Mobile Thriller (national tour and Harbourfront, Toronto) and Broken Road (British Council Showcase).
âI direct because itâs an addiction. Because it never gets any easier. Because when it all comes together â actors, staging, audience, and you get it right â nothing beats it.â
Carrie Cracknell
Electra
by Nick Payne after Sophocles
Opened at the Gate Theatre, London, on 7 April 2011.
Creative
Director Carrie Cracknell
Designer Holly Waddington
Lighting Designer Guy Hoare
Music and Sound Designer Tom Mills
Movement Director Georgina Lamb
Cast
Electra Cath Whitefield
Clytemnestra Madeleine Potter
Chrysothemis Natasha Broomfield
Orestes Alex Price
Strophius Martin Turner
Young Electra Yasmin Garrad/Fern Deacon
The King and Queen of Mycenae, Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, had four children: Electra, Chrysothemis, Orestes and Iphigenia. Agamemnon was a great general in the Greek army, and when his country went to war against Troy, he led the charge. Whilst away, he angered the gods, who demanded as payment that he offer young Iphigenia as a blood sacrifice. Agamemnon lured his wife and child to Troy where he cut Iphigeniaâs throat. His soldiersâ lives were at stake, he said. It was a transaction: one life for thousands. Clytemnestra disagreed. She returned to Greece where she found a lover, Aegisthus, and when Agamemnon returned from Troy, she lured him to the bath with the promise of a relaxing soak and with Aegisthusâ help she held him under the water and stabbed him until the water turned red. The Kingâs body was discovered and, in the chaos, Electra smuggled her young brother Orestes out of the palace to an ally of her fatherâs. Electra and Chrysothemis stayed behind. Years passed. Whatever grief Chrysothemis may now feel, she does not articulate it. Meanwhile, Electra incubates her anger, which simmers within her chest. Then, one day, Orestes returns to avenge his father. First, he will kill Clytemnestra, and then heâll kill Aegisthus, just as â
âWoah. Woah. Woah.â
Jenny Worton raises her hand and Carrie Cracknell, the director, stops her recap of the story. âIâm sorry,â Jenny says. âThe rule is: you kill the biggest baddie last. Thatâs not Aegisthus! The story is about the mother and the children.â
Carrie and Jenny are sitting either side of Carrieâs kitchen table opposite Holly Waddington, the designer, and Nick Payne, the writer. The creative team for a new production of Electra meets for the first time today and, as a past collaborator of Carrieâs, Jenny attends to offer some dramaturgical advice. Right now, her expression seems to ask whether anyone in the room has ever seen a horror movie.
The workshop
The story is the myth of Electra as told by Sophocles. Carrie and Holly have presented Electra before, in June 2010, in a studio space at the Young Vic: a workshop production that flew under the radar of the national press and gave its tickets away for free. Then, they used a translation of the play by the poet Anne Carson, which stays relatively close to the structure of Sophoclesâ play.
But although Carrie felt âplayful and unleashedâ in directing the movement sections, which involve the chorus, she found other elements of the production challenging. Sophoclesâ characters often speak to each other in uninterrupted, minutes-long speeches and, to mobilise the text, Carrie struggled to resist directing by âmaking beautiful stage picturesâ, which is to say, âtelling the actors where to standâ. And as she explored the playâs many themes â family loyalty, fate, the governance of troubled states â Carrie became drawn to the psychology of its central character, and to the possibility of exploring in more detail the long-term impact of that central, horrific event â Agamemnonâs death â on three very different children. She started to develop ideas for a âcleaner, clearer and more psychologically directâ version of the story for a modern audience.
Soon after, the decision was taken to explore Electra in a full production, this time at the Gate, the intimate theatre in Notting Hill that Carrie ran with Natalie Abrahami until early 2012. Carrie decided to commission a new version of Electra, one that would inhabit a world of âepic possibilityâ that allows for movement and music, but be anchored by psychologically acute acting.
The new writer is Nick Payne, whom Carrie praises for the perceptiveness of his writing about human behaviour, his ear for dialogue and his skill at writing female characters (four of the six characters in the play are women).
Translations and versions
âTranslation is always a treason,â KakuzĹ tells us in The Book of Tea. âIt can at its best be only the reverse of a brocade â all the threads are there, but not the subtlety of colour or design.â
Plays written in another time, or in another language, used to be performed in translation. Now, they often appear in versions by other playwrights. This distinction can be confusing at first. At its simplest, a translation is the source material rendered scene for scene, most likely in the same socio-historical context, and with its rhythms and images translated as faithfully as the new language allows. Often the translator is an academic or a bilingual playwright fluent in the language of the original.
A version is something freer, which develops the source material. The writer is usually an established playwright, commissioned for the idiosyncrasies of his original work. He may expand or contract themes in the original, although he should do so intelligently, maintaining its identity and dramatic allure.
In approaching Electra, Carrie is keen that Nick develops the play, and that the new version, whilst âstill feeling like Electraâ, invites his own artistic contribution.
A new version
Developing the new version, Carrie and Nick are keen to explore the storyâs motor, which is to say, what is special about today that sets the events of the play in motion. Sophoclesâ Electra carries her grief for some number of years, but Sophocles does not explore how many, nor does he provide a trigger event that causes Electraâs anger to boil over on the day that the action takes place, an issue that most actors and directors, post-Stanislavsky, will want to address. âI canât say to an actor âYouâve felt this way for ten years but itâs particularly raw today for some reasonâ,â Carrie says, as she and Nick discuss what path the new version might take.
Nickâs solution is to place the action at the tenth anniversary of Agamemnonâs death, which hangs in the air, pressing down on all who live and work in the palace, but most of all on Electra, who has become so disobedient that Aegisthus has convinced Clytemnestra to have Electra âsent awayâ from the palace (most likely imprisoned). Nick proposes that the play begins with Aegisthus away from the palace to make the arrangements. Today is Electraâs last chance to act.
Aegisthus, for his part, may not feature in the production at all. Sophoclesâ Aegisthus is discussed by the other characters, but only turns up at the end of the play and is almost immediately killed by Orestes. At the script meeting, Nick wonders aloud if, following the death of Clytemnestra, the death of a character as yet unseen might be less than satisfying. His instinct is that Aegisthus should either be cut entirely, or have his role expanded, perhaps as a terrifying dictator or as a âsweater-wearing, Guardian-reading stepdadâ whose only crime, in the childrenâs eyes, is having replaced their father in their motherâs affections.
To cut or reconceive a character might be to alter a play fundamentally, and in discussing Aegisthus, Nick and Carrie are mindful of what the play might gain or lose in doing so. Eventually, they decide that Aegisthus is to be cut. The story of Electra is old grudges, and Aegisthus is not family.
Also cut is Pylades, Orestesâ friend who is present in the first scene of Sophoclesâ play as Orestes and his tutor arrive at the palace, but does not speak. Orestesâ tutor (named by Sophocles for his job, although often transliterated as âPedagogusâ) is given the name Strophius after the ally of Agamemnon who hid the child Orestes on the night of his fatherâs murder.
A month before rehearsals begin, Carrie holds a two-day workshop to explore questions that she and Nick have about staging the script. Two of the parts have already been cast. Cath Whitefield will play Electra and Madeleine Potter will play Clytemnestra. Cath and Madeleine attend the workshop with the actor Alison OâDonnell, an âallyâ of Carrieâs, who will play whomever else the scene demands.
Carrie articulates her goals upfront, which are, on the day I visit, to explore:
⢠The effect on the young Electra of witnessing Agamemnonâs death.
⢠The manner of Clytemnestraâs death and how much of it (if any) should be depicted onstage.
⢠The visual vocabulary of the chorus.
⢠The role of music.
Agamemnonâs death
Whilst they have no intention of depicting it in the production, C...