Iphigenia

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Since the first Neaderthol produced the first play around a campfire, ghost stories float with abandonment. Some have been held in tight secrecy. After all, who’s going to believe the unbelievable? The people who experience the unnerving episodes, that’s who.

(From left to right) Jacob Morehead as Achilles and Nissa Almquist as Iphigenia in Lida Experimental Theatre Company’s production of Iphigenia.

The Lida Experimental Theatre Company opens its season with Iphigenia in honest straightforward experimental style. The complete title is almost as long as the one-act play by Caridad Svich. It’s IPHIGENIA CRASH LAND FALLS ON THE NEON SHELL THAT WAS ONCE HER HEART (A Rave Review).

The Iphigenia myth stretches back to Greek Mythology to the tragic tale of the House of Artemus. The daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, Iphigenia became the object of sacrifice. Agamemnon angered the Goddess Artemus. Sacrificing Iphigenia was the only way he could appease the fuming Goddess. To accomplish this task called for its own trickery and treachery. Agamemnon sent word to his wife that Iphigenia was to marry Achilles.

The myth has captivated cultures down through the ages with the wanting to rescue Iphigenia from her death. Trapped in a society she does not understand, a society that does not give her voice she can call her own without offering that voice, that body to the state. Iphigenia is a tale, according to Svich, about cowardice, lies, celebrity, ambition, sacrifice, and love. “Above all live. Deep passionate, screwed up love.”

Directed by Brian Freeland, it’s a stretch to wed the myth, the commentary, and the speculation to what is actually seen on stage. Surrounded by two large video screens and several small ones, the rave-type electronics are a masterpiece in themselves with strung out deliberate images of that, which plays on stage.

Freeland, a master of electronics, creates an almost hypnotic effect with the fast moving shadowy images, which, of course, is part of the point.

Nissa Almquist plays Iphigenia with quaking, questioning, lost wandering searching demeanor. There are moments when Almquist’s soft voice drowns in the sea of electronic musical drumming from the video images. Almquist does have a strong voice, and the expertise to project over the electronics.

Terry Burnsed plays her father, General Adolfo with a General statesman aloofness accompanied with disquieting words of “I love you. I will do anything for you.” Anything that is, beyond saving his own skin. Burnsed also plays a Fresa Girl, Virtual MC, Soldier X, and General’s Ass. Jacob Morehead flaunts Achilles in teasing, taunting erratic love for Iphigenia. Lisa Mumpton plays her mother, Camilla with detachment. That reads quite well.

In her wandering search, Iphigenia runs into a variety of the strange and the weird attempting to make sense out of nonsense.

With outlandish costumes, the three Fresa Girls: Matthew Schultz, Matthew Korda, and Burnsed beckon, enlighten, tortured confusion with antics and insane dancing. It wouldn’t hurt this production to call in a choreographer unless the insanity is deliberate extending to the “un-rhymic” jerky moves.

For a brief moment, Korda also appears as Iphigiana’s baby brother Orestes with an anguished oversized baby head as his only costume. His reasons are as fuzzy as his image projected onto the screen.

For stretching imagination, mind, and thought Freeland is a master at Experimental Theatre. No question. But a basic question appears to allude: What does the production want the audience to think, feel. know, understand when the house lights come up. In leaving the theatre, several comments were heard pertaining to just exactly what was it that was just seen.

Svich herself writes, “This a trance tale of death and dying of dancing and swaying, of divination, hypnosis, religion and ecstasy.” This may well be true, but is this the state of the play or the state the audience needs to be in to absorb the total experience? Or is it geared for an age limit far beyond the reach of many?

The experience of Iphigenia leaves a haunting nagging memory that will not be forgotten any time soon, wondering how? Why? And for what reason? And that, after all, may be the point. To tease the mind into a new place, to play with the haunting images with parading questions. Is this really about Iphigenia? Is there a wanting to rescue her from her death giving her voice? Does Iphigenia symbolize voiceless women? Does it imply all baby brothers have big heads and have lost their diapers? The Greek myths contain extraordinary human perception, but their points were crystal clear even when skimming the shadows. This production left me simply asking: What?