The Colours of the Absurd

Image credits: Raffaella Losito, Chief Photographic Technician

A fever dream. And quite literally. Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending Pirandello’s play I Giganti Della Montagna, The Mountain Giants, staged by the Cambridge Italian Society. In the realm of my very own college, I saw the Palmerston room– their temporary theatre–transformed into the most kaleidoscopic of scenes. With a black guitar on the left and a black cello on the opposite end, the stage was embraced by the cosiest, chromatic fabrics, foreshadowing the nomadic nature of the characters. To my surprise, my outfit matched theirs, which brought to my critical, reviewer eye a sense of belonging that far exceeded national identity. In a room full of Italians (a rare sighting in 7 years for an expat!), I hadn’t realised that the Palmerston’s cascade of seats was in itself analogous to the mountain of the play. Scouting for a good view, I ended up committing to the second row, “ai piedi della montagna”, with the Misfits and the Countess' Company of actors. The story of this unfinished theatrical masterpiece, from the Trilogy of Myths, is simple yet webbed:

“This whimsical comedy unfolds at Villa della Scalogna (Misfortune Villa), where a quirky theatre troupe encounters the Scalognati (the Unfortunates), a group of outcasts led by the wizard Cotrone. Cotrone, with his power to bring dreams to life, transforms the villa into a magical setting, offering the actors a stage at the wedding of the Mountain Giants. In this dreamscape, Pirandello explores the magical nature of theatre, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy, and the clash between the actors and the people from the “real” world.” (Plot summary from CamDram)

My scribbled notes include observations of carnivalesque facial paint, a painted mask on the characters, as well as recurring themes of folly, madness and fear amongst the Misfits, like living emotions on the stage. This enchanted world, directed by Ludovico Nolfi, was verbalised to the audience in Italian, with inflections of the Neapolitan dialect. Whilst I’m not from Napoli, it’s surprisingly familiar to hear Italian in one of its dialects, especially one I’m lucky enough to still understand! This allowed me to appreciate the unparalleled rhythm of the solo performance: without a mic, the Misfit echoed how, with nothing, she could still carry herself. Her strong voice guaranteed me goosebumps! However, for those who found Neapolitan tricky to unpack, subtitles were projected where the mountain stood earlier. They designated a linguistic landscape that reinforced and imprinted Pirandello’s quote in a unique way for the audience, perhaps as a way of figuring out his unfinished masterpiece, considered to be his artistic testament preceding his death.

I should also insist on how theatrically funny this play is. The adaptation of the director who included “The Sound Of Silence” through the tragicomic performance of the cast elicited a stir of emotions, highlighting how contrasting themes coexist in the story. Pirandello intended the play to be a comedy while preserving analytical and psychological depth. Just as Pirandello mastered turning deep themes into good theatre, the cast took charge of this magical power and did his play justice. The background noise of a giggling audience interacted with the diverse cast in a melange of sounds. And as soon as my mind would begin to wander (recognising the guy from Dulcis, for instance!), the dynamic visuals and the inner-child energy permeating the Misfits would catch my attention once again. I was truly in the haze of the Theatre of the Absurd.

In such a stressful and busy time of my life, I can wholeheartedly attest to how enriching this play was for me. It evoked the power of imagination and dreams, revealing how the world can be your home, how you don’t need anything if you have nothing and how you can shape your internal reality and self. After all, “the masks we pick are not chosen randomly” (Pirandello).

MORBO – The Spanish Disease