Marat/Sade

I saw a very interesting theater production over the weekend. I came across the annoucment for it via Facebook (I am both sad to say that, and also embrace the fact). Courtney is involved with the theater department at Cornell College (which by the way, I realized as I arrived, was just as cute a small liberal arts college campus as I remember it from my elementry Writer's Workshop days)
The sun had set, and a drizzling mist had fallen upon the grounds. I parked on the far left side of campus, not entirely sure where the theater was, but knowing I'd have fun wandering around a bit before the performance started. Well, I wound up at the library. (Ironic huh?) The Cornell library is in the middle of the campus, and yes, the metaphorical irony of centrally located and the "heart of knowledge" wasn't lost on me. Courtney called shortly after my assessment to ask where I was. She had secured a ticket for me. YAY! (Initially there was a possibility I wouldn't see the play because it was sold out. Honestly it wouldn't have bugged me to not see it, as really I'd come in order to give Courtney birthday gifts from her brother and myself, and hang out with her. The play was a bonus, and a chance to see her in behind the scenes action. She was the head of the student costume design workshop for the production.) And for sure, telling people that you are going to see the play "The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade" does raise some eyebrows. In fact, Cassi remarked as we were leaving the Sanctuary after dinner, "I'm impressed you could work the word esoteric into any dinner conversation description"
The play was, in fact, quite esoteric. If you don't remember your history book lessons on the French Revolution, this play wouldn't have much substance. You could still marvel at the abilities of present day actors to play mentally/physically ailled patients acting out the death of a man in a bathtub, but the why and the so what would probably be lost. Even for myself, (an avid theater buff, and literary afficianado) I went into the Armstrong theater lobby with a sense of expecting to not understand the real "meaty bits" of themes, character analysis, or plot. And well, as I like to say "if you can't understand the plot, then what have you really got?" Answer: not much.
I can appreciate most theater productions in many aspects. Becuase I have alot of friends and some family involved with theater, in capacities from playwrights and actors to lighting designers and sound mixers, I know some of the "lingo" and some of the more intricate problems that arise with productions.
I can say, this production appeared as a smooth running machine, and that is a hard task to accomplish when three fourths of your "actors" are Asylum patients and vocalizing at seemingly random intervals. I credit my Art History and my AP European History for my ability to remember what happened leading up to and after the French Revolution. I couldn't for the life of me remember the Marquis de Sade. But, because of this painting, I did know a bit about Marat. In fact, a friend that is a current art history major saw my away message about seeing Marat/Sade and asked if it was about Marat from the David painting.
More importantly than the historical aspects of the play, are the themes and questions it provokes(yes I know, how 'english major' of me) You see, basically, all of Marat's efforts, as displayed by debates between the Marquis and Marat, show that, really, no one was better off after the Revolution. In fact, they even stop, right before Corday murders Marat, so that the Marquis can tell him what happens in between Marat's physical death and the date of the play's performance. 1808. In the 15 years since his death, Napoleon took over, and the opression still reigned. Once Napoleon was overthrown, the monarchy was restored. So really, in the Marquis opinion, Marat just signed peoples' lives away. Marat is plagued not only with a skin disease requiring him to stay in that bathtub and not venture into the streets but also with the souls of those who died in the name of the Revolution. I don't want to spoil the ending, but suffice it to say I saw it coming through some great forshadowing, and if it's any indication the rest of the "crowd" was pretty unsure of what to do at the end. Partly this was understandable because usually at the end of a play, the stage lights go down and the houselights go up. If you want to really mess with your audience and what they've been trained to do. Leave the stagelights and houselights on at the end. In a fantastic move, someone began a slow-clap to signal the rest of us that the play was over. We left the theater not from the way we came in, and it was great.