Depending on viewpoint, director Ivo van Hove's "More Stately Mansions," opening at the New York Theatre Workshop (NYTW), Oct. 7, is either a profound re-examination of Eugene O'Neill's play or a Mel Brooks sendup of radical theatre, circa late-1960s. With its ad-hoc mixture of styles and sensibilities--from hints of Kabuki theatre to a nude ballet--this production is, in any case, memorable.
The aforementioned ballet is, of course, the most striking scene. In an eruption of sexual dementia, the husband and wife strip each other and then, overwhelmed with desire, and now stark naked, perform a series of acrobatic tricks--surely, the last word in conjugal athletics--tumbling, catapulting, and hurtling themselves about in a range of unimaginable positions. Indeed, at one point, the wife is toting the husband around--his arms and legs straddling her torso--like a sack of potatoes.
So, what does this flight of fancy have to do with O'Neill's play? Set in New England at the turn of the century, "Mansions" tells the story of two predatory women--wife and mother-in-law--vying for the affection of the man in the family. Seen through a pre-feminist, Freudian lens, this play dramatizes the ur-troubled family and the corrupting influence of the industrial revolution.
The Main Thing
"I don't know what O'Neill would think of this production, and I don't think it's relevant," asserts Belgium-born, Holland-based director Ivo van Hove. "This concern with the author is the fundamental difference between American and European theatre. In America the text and author are the most important things," he continues, his accented English accompanied by a flurry of hand gestures. "In Europe we see the text as the fuel that drives the car. The production is the main thing. You can always read the text in the library. The idea that you can play a text objectively or that there's only one way to do a text--that's an illusion!" This is a word van Hove likes a lot. He also cottons to "schizophrenic."
Keenly aware that his nonliteral vision of "More Stately Mansions" is at odds with the "psycho-realism Americans identify with O'Neill productions," van Hove stresses, "I only play what's written. I do not rearrange scenes or rewrite text. 'More Stately Mansions' is a highly autobiographical work and I studied O'Neill biographies and the era in which the play is set. I immersed myself in all of that and then turned the play into beautiful theatre. By beautiful, I don't mean esthetic, but rather powerful and exciting!"
We meet with the 40ish van Hove, a hot player in European theatre circles, in one of the smaller NYTW spaces. He is at once lean, delicately built--indeed, evokes a ballet dancer--and a blur of frenzied motion, gesticulating and waving his arms about. Elbows bent, palms facing his chest, it's a choreography of intense, small circles.
Since l990, van Hove has been producing director of Het Zuidelijk Toneel, one of the Netherland's most prominent national repertory companies. Its mission is to mount classics, frequently the lesser-known works of major authors. NYTW's production of "More Stately Mansions" a critically and publicly acclaimed work in Holland, marks van Hove's American debut.
Still, the questions remain: What new light does van Hove's spin shed on the O'Neill work, and, perhaps more to the point, what exactly is the thrust of this rarely performed, unfinished play that O'Neill wanted destroyed?
"This is the man, Simon's, journey, his coming to terms with the fact that you cannot have it all. There is loss and you have to make choices," says van Hove. "Simon has to choose between his mother and wife. The play dramatizes a big existential problem that everyone faces. How do you find satisfaction in life knowing it cannot be perfect? Anyone who tries to make it perfect is going to fail.
Simon has a lot to learn. He has to regress to a prenatal state in order to be reborn. In the end, his mother pushes him out!"
To drive the Oedipal idea home, we see Mama cradling her grown son. Admittedly, she's not nursing him--one wonders why not--but she is bare-breasted. Van Hove notes the "utopian and taboo" elements in the mother-son relationship presented here, as well as the suggestion of Greek tragedy.
"I removed all realistic settings. In the foreground, there's a playing space marked by four poles, suggesting a battle field or a boxing ring. In the background we present the landscape of the mind through different images depicting what's happening between the characters. There's a mix of sex and business throughout the text. When you see the smokestack, Simon is at the climax of his success as a businessman. Total power. Very phallic. When Sarah, the wife, is at the height of her power, we see dozens of sewing machines scattered across the floor in the background. Sewing machines bring to mind the textile industry of the era, and it's a very female image. Dangerous. Little needles. An army of insects!"
Experimental--or Not?
Brought up near Antwerp, van Hove is the son of a pharmacist. His early goal was to be a journalist, "like everyone else," he chortles--a private joke. Later, he majored in law, but his experience with theatre--acting in plays at boarding school--haunted him, and law he found dull. He enrolled at Brussels Royal Institute for Theatre and Cinematic Studies and first garnered attention with pieces he created using visual artists and people off the street as his performers. These early productions, based on short plays he had written, became "cult classics even though very few people saw them!"
Within short order van Hove was gaining a reputation among followers of what has been dubbed the European Theatre Movement, known for its experimental esthetic. Still, he emphasizes that what's viewed as "experimental" in the States is mainstream in Europe. "At Het we're like Broadway!"
No one subject, theme, or style unifies the European Theatre Movement, says van Hove--short of, perhaps, an in-your-face theatricality and highly physical acting. The latter is an especially significant element in van Hove's work.
"My actors are thinking bodies, never talking heads. In America, actors attack each character psychologically. They believe if you write a biography you know what the character is all about. That's an illusion! Who you are in the morning is not who you are in the afternoon or evening. Life is schizophrenic and in 'More Stately Mansions' it's particularly schizophrenic. It's hard for American actors to move from one emotional moment to another without demonstrating the psychological process!"
He dramatizes what he's looking for: " 'Do you want coffee?' 'Yes. No.' " The alternate responses--tone, expression, cadence--are abruptly different without the benefit of transitions or even a beat. This acting style, states van Hove is a more theatrical--and ultimately more truthful--filter through which to view a play like "More Stately Mansions."
Another high point for van Hove was his production of "A Streetcar Named Desire." Instead of a living-room set, "The house was created just by light, a square, torturing light." But the theatrical conceit he is most pleased with is Blanche DuBois' use of a bathtub placed centerstage. "Between each scene we see Blanche bathing herself--cleaning, preparing, and re-dressing to become Blanche DuBois. My production was very violent. Stanley breaks real glass on stage and he drinks real beer. Some things cannot be acted. I like a touch of danger--like the broken glass, the beer--" he pauses, "--like the sex ballet in 'More Stately Mansions.' They just are!"
Asked what he'd ideally want an audience to walk away with after seeing "More Stately Mansions," van Hove is almost deadpan. "I want them to say awful things like, 'This is a masterpiece.' Look, I do my work. Some people may be moved by the way Simon regresses in order to be reborn. Others may be shocked by the nudity. Some may be puzzled by the actors bowing to each other before each scene. They may see a Japanese influence."
He sums up his artistic philosophy: "There's a Paul Klee painting I've thought about. It has a blue background and in the center a red spot. I've often wondered, why the red spot? I now look at it and realize not everything can be explained rationally. It's not nec