In NITE’s adaptation of “Iphigeneia in Aulis,” Iphigeneia is furious

In Euripides’ Tragedy Iphigenia in Aulis the young eponym is a leaf that sways on the waves of the wind. Adults decide that she should be sacrificed to the gods. Then the wind will turn and the war fleet can leave. Iphigeneia lets it happen. In My first tragedy the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra does get a rebuttal.

No fewer than six performers give Iphigeneia a voice in the first large-scale performance by director Mart van Berckel, in collaboration with choreographer Angela Herenda. They wear identical wigs, each with a white shirt and jeans. Don’t expect a tragedy in the classical form, but a trip that can best be summarized as an associative exploration of Iphigeneia’s psyche. It is a performance that fits well with the Groningen city company NITE: a performance at the intersection of dance and movement art, with distinct images and a prominent role for audio.

In My first tragedy the players move as one body. They collectively hurl their anger into space and together fall into a trance through the pungent percussion of Yung-Tuan Ku. “What! has this! to do! with me!”, they boom in one of the first scenes, as the frenzy begins to swirl and they can barely contain their bodies. It seems like the kick-off of a grieving process: first there was denial, now anger.

Reflection

Calm returns in a prayer that follows the diatribe. The players sing in harmony and pebbles flow from a container that hangs high above the stage. The pile that forms on the playing field is reminiscent of an hourglass. Each of the performers places a bucket under the stream: a serene tap sounds, as if rain is falling. This reflection does not last long: soon the stones are kicked wildly across the stage.

The performance thus breaks down into physical scenes, which are not directly connected or ensuing from each other. It is a succession in which emotions change abruptly and the motivation behind actions often remains vague. That may not be surprising, considering that we are in the spirit of someone who will be sacrificed. The intensity of the performance, with an abundance of light and sound, contributes to a sense of confusion and unpredictability.

The repetitive character of many scenes is striking. The players repeat each other’s actions, but often also do the same themselves. For example, everyone furiously springs forward at the first charge and has each of the performers tap pebbles into a bucket. That has a hypnotic effect, but is sometimes too much of a good thing, for example in one of the closing scenes. The actors then dance endlessly in a circle – bouncing rhythmically, a hop, a jump. The lights flash, the drum bangs and the bodies go into a trance, as if Iphigeneia is resigned to her end. Acceptance has set in, the last stage of mourning has been completed. This act continues, even after the images have been amply exhausted.

Finally, a sea rustles in the background. Where Euripides prevented the sacrifice, liberation now fails to materialise. Iphigeneia is silent again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzLYzNfPjBI