Festival Theatre

Mixed

messages

Is it an Italian B-movie? Is it a classical opera?

No, finds Mark Fisher, it's La Didone from the American collective Wooster Group, which brings both these elements together to create something

new and remarkable

couple of pieces.‘ says lili/abeth

l.e(‘ompte. artistic director of New York avant-garders the Wooster (iroup. ‘l‘ihtil ('ut Pro and Isadora. you know. I was the initial developer.‘ Actually. she was nothing of the kind. She is being egged on by actor Kate Valk who wants to wind tip the company‘s in-house technicians for a latigh and to test whether they‘re reading the publicity. Because. although no Wooster (irottp show is complete without a phalanx of TV monitors and a high—tech collage of sound and light. lc(‘ompte has no idea how to get the effects she wants.

‘I love the technology and I love watching people use it.” says the 63-year—old who has run the company for three decades. ‘But the only thing I‘m good with are cameras. I‘m not good with computers. although I was the first to get them in our office. And I‘m not a button-pusher. I just say: “We need this here" and the technicians go and get it. And if they don't get it. they bring me something else that's better.‘

If she's being honest »— and with LeCompte you can never quite tell where irony ends and disingenuousness begins -- then she certainly knows how to hang out with the right people. As weird theatre goes. Wooster Group shows are the weirdest. They make oddball collisions in which Arthur Miller can rub tip against LSD trips. sexploitation movies can infiltrate Gertrude Stein plays. and games of badminton can pop up in the tragedy of Phi’dre.

Yet. however befuddled you are. you’re never in doubt of the company‘s incredible technical sophistication. They synchronise the live and the pre-recorded with atomic clock accuracy. tnix voices and music into a sound palate of ever- shifting complexity and draw performances from the actors that are as precisely drilled as they are other-worldly. lf LeCompte didn‘t invent the software. she surely knows the person who did. ‘It‘s like what people had to deal with when they first saw a Pollock or Kandinsky.‘ says LeCompte. who trained as a painter and specialised in photography before moving into theatre. ‘They would have thought: “I don't as THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 16—23 Aug 2007

I developed special software for the last

know what that is. btit that stroke. I can tell he meant it". There‘s a commitment there. It's the same with all new constructions: you have to look for the intent.‘

We‘re sitting at a table in Rotterdam's Schouwburg Theatre where l.u Didone is playing before its lidinbtu‘gh rtm. The title is that of the 164] opera by Pietro Francesco (‘avalli. bttt Planet oft/iv Hurt/tires would have done jtist as well. That's because l.e(‘ompte gives

(‘avalli's pioneering opera the saute amount of

stage space as Mario Bava‘s I965 Italian sci—li B-movie. played on screen and acted out by her

four actors while the opera competes for our

attention. It isn‘t so much a question of one informing the other as both playing simultaneously. a juxtaposition that produces heat and light. friction and symmetry. poetry and pandemonium.

It means opera fans shouldn‘t expect a simple telling of the legend of Aeneas as he ventures

from the smouldering ruins of a defeated 'l'roy into the alien land of (‘arthage and the arms ol l)ido. .\'or should trash culture btifls expect only the tale of (‘aptain Mark .‘vlarkary whose spaceship is lured to the planet of :\ura where a dying race of aliens inhabits his /ombie like crew. Rather they should expect both at once: a cross-cultural cocktail of mindboggling oddness.

On one hand. you‘ve got l)itlo. played by inc//o-soprano llai—Ting ('hinn. wearing a cape of sci-ii silyer. ()n the other. you've got space cadet Sanya. played by \"alk. who joins in with the operatic choruses. There are ray guns and baroque strings. punch-ups and arias. helmets and wigs. It‘s as unconyentional as the electric guitar in the four—strong orchestra and is certain to blow up a storm of outraged critical sensibilities when it opens at the Royal |.y cetun.

l-‘or |.e('ompte. an arch—postmodernist who once said that ‘humour is built into everything