How does the presence of the Father change the original story? Why is he there? What is his role?I'm not sure I knew that there wasn't a father character in the original myth of Orpheus. Previous to this show, I had only seen the opera l'Orfeo, which was beautiful but very slow and I only remember
Ruben-esque people moving very slowly in and out of hell. So when I first read Sarah Ruhl's Eurydice, I assumed that there was a father character all along. I soon learned that this was not the case. So why
the father?
I think one of the clues is in the dedication of the play. Ruhl dedicates the play to her father. That's got to count for something. And then there are several lines in the play about the relationship between fathers and daughters, and the play seems to be coming back time and time again to the notion that you can't go home again. Eurydice longs to reunite with her father, longs to stay with her father, but realizes at some point that time, and life, moves on. The father is in this play, I believe, to represent the memory of childhood. Longing for the past. That elusive feeling that you can't totally recapture your most poignant and beautiful memories. I also think he represents one of the masculine ideals women have about men; all three of the male characters in the play do. The nasty interesting man is edgy, thrilling, and carnal. Orpheus is romantic, thoughtful, and passionate. The father is gentle, kind, and selfless. I sort of see these three type as the corners of a
masculine triangle.
Ruben-esque people moving very slowly in and out of hell. So when I first read Sarah Ruhl's Eurydice, I assumed that there was a father character all along. I soon learned that this was not the case. So why
the father?
I think one of the clues is in the dedication of the play. Ruhl dedicates the play to her father. That's got to count for something. And then there are several lines in the play about the relationship between fathers and daughters, and the play seems to be coming back time and time again to the notion that you can't go home again. Eurydice longs to reunite with her father, longs to stay with her father, but realizes at some point that time, and life, moves on. The father is in this play, I believe, to represent the memory of childhood. Longing for the past. That elusive feeling that you can't totally recapture your most poignant and beautiful memories. I also think he represents one of the masculine ideals women have about men; all three of the male characters in the play do. The nasty interesting man is edgy, thrilling, and carnal. Orpheus is romantic, thoughtful, and passionate. The father is gentle, kind, and selfless. I sort of see these three type as the corners of a
masculine triangle.
constantly fighting the urge to over-protect them, baby them, and fuss over them. I'm sure a lot of men feel this way about their daughters. I feel differently about my sons. I tend to push them and challenge them,
and I'm far less patient. I know it's probably not "right," but it is my honest response. When I work with Aubrey onstage I feel like Eurydice is my daughter. I want to encourage her and support her, but I also want to reign her in and protect her from getting hurt. It's a very torn feeling. Giving her up to Orpheus at the end of the third movement is heart-breaking for me, even though I know it's the right thing to do. I'm sure I'll feel that way when my real daughters get married.
What has surprised you about this project?
The thing that has surprised me the most about this project is how well it adapts to the stage. My initial reading of the play felt more like a tonal poem. I'm also a director, and I couldn't immediately see the
stageability of this piece. It's so ethereal and thoughtful. But working with Lisa has been fantastic. She has such a sharp vision for the show, and the literal story of the piece is so clear and so moving. It's not
just a jumble of words and ideas. There's a story there, and it translates beautifully. I also think this is one of the most visually striking pieces of theatre I've been able to work on. I've loved the process.
stageability of this piece. It's so ethereal and thoughtful. But working with Lisa has been fantastic. She has such a sharp vision for the show, and the literal story of the piece is so clear and so moving. It's not
just a jumble of words and ideas. There's a story there, and it translates beautifully. I also think this is one of the most visually striking pieces of theatre I've been able to work on. I've loved the process.
What do you think about the father’s final choice? I haven't talked too much about the father's final choice in the play because I worry about talking it out. This may surprise people (ha) but I'm not much of a talker when I'm working. I like to just do. I worry that over-processing my choices onstage will make me self-conscious and anxious. That being said, I understand exactly what he's doing. Sometimes a feeling of loss, or a feeling of helplessness, is so overwhelming that you will do anything to make it stop. It's the first time in the play that the father does anything for himself. And it's
sad. But it also makes sense. It's not a suicide, but it's a coping mechanism. I get that completely. Sometimes we just want to shut our heads off for a while.
sad. But it also makes sense. It's not a suicide, but it's a coping mechanism. I get that completely. Sometimes we just want to shut our heads off for a while.
Any other thoughts about the project that you’d like to share?This has been such a fantastic experience. I hope people come. I know it's not a well-known piece, but it's a beautiful and moving one. And I really hope people give it a shot. It's rare for us as actors to get to
work on plays like this; which is one of the reasons I signed up to do it. It is a celebration of life and music and choices, and it resonates with me so clearly.
work on plays like this; which is one of the reasons I signed up to do it. It is a celebration of life and music and choices, and it resonates with me so clearly.
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