Theatre
Stulifera Navis – jew: Ow Wenn di Sejnts Kam Sejling In
ActionBase Studio
Gruppi għall-Inkontri Tal-Bniedem’s latest piece takes its inspiration from an important 15th century allegory by the German humanist Sebastian Brant, known especially in its Latin version as Stultifera Navis. The ship of fools is the ship without direction and purpose, tossed by the waves towards an unkown destination. It makes a rather apt metaphor for the whole human existense.
In this intense 50-minute performance by the group mentored by the indefatigable John Schranz, the metaphor takes on a very topical relevance as it significantly embraces all those who today are embarking on untrustworthy boats to escape war and destruction. The ship of fools becomes a vessel of hope.
Never dull, sometimes powerful and occasionally mesmerising, the work presented a series of scenes that explored humanity’s undying optimism in the face of folly, oppression, violence and death. Relying heavily on the visually intriguing and the physicality of the actors who delivered a highly poetical text, the seemingly disjointed scenes were strung together by the unifying theme of the performance, leading to a satisfying finale.
As with the rest of the events that formed part of the International Festival of the Arts, this encounter was held at the back terrace of Gruppi’s new base at Buskett. The place provided an interesting natural environment to the images that enfolded before our eyes. Although nestled too deep in the valley to offer any views of the sea, the gnarled branches and thick foliage of aleppo pine trees provided an impressive backdrop, while above hung the starlit sky. The veritable chorus of whimpering animals and barking dogs from nearby farms was somewhat distracting at times. Slightly more so, the incessant mosquito attacks. But what is a little mosquito bite next to the pain and agony that were being evoked?
In spite of the resplendent Buskett surroundings, I often wondered whether the material we were watching would have been better suited to the walled space of Gruppi’s previous premises at Naxxar. Many effects, especially in the solo scenes, must have lost some of their vigour due to the open space. Other moments involving a number of actors seemed to blend better.
One such moment was the banquet scene at the beginning, a typical Schranz set-piece. It was one rare occasion when the four main Maltese actors were joined by four other guest actors coming from Greece. The whole troupe laid a table for a sumptuous banquet in a frenzied activity choreographed against an amazing song in Latin from Orff’s Carmina Burana. When the famished actors finally sat down to gorge themselves on the food, they discovered that the soup bowl is empty and the meat is filled with bones.
Some of the individual moments were powerful enough to overcome the open-air distraction that seemed to affect others. There was the scene when one of the actresses (it is a characteristic of Prof. Schranz’s work that the programme never identifies the names of the actors) pressed huge nails against her face. She gouged her eyes in the act, and blood started to cover her face. She went on to bandage her blinded eyes, Oedipus-style, wiping her bloodied hands against her white shirt. This was one image harrowing enough to send chills down one’s spine.
Another individual bravura worthy of mention was the main male actor’s long monologue towards the end of the piece. Delivered with beautifully controlled bodily movement, the actor managed to produce a remarkable balance between the expressiveness of voice and body that reached a high level of subtle eloquence. Apart from some hurried utterances in Greek by the Greek participants, the whole text was in Maltese. Although no credit is given in the programme as to who authored the text, one assumes it was jointly worked upon by actors and mentor, utilising quotes from the original Brant allegory and other literary sources, and including some excerpts of well-known Maltese verse. Two of the Maltese actresses also sang parts of their lines and they did it excellently.
The sight of the delivering ship brought about the climax of the performance. This was a dance of joy which celebrated life and the mystery of being human. There was a delightful touch of surprise here as we realised that two real musicians, a violinist and a piano accordionist, were the ones playing the perennial Shostakovich waltz (and possibly other musical elements heard previously). Having been hitherto concealed among the shrubs, these two emerged into the acting space as the rest of the actors encouraged individual members of the audience to join in the waltz, which some boldly did. This was a very Felliniesque situation, seemingly straight from 8½, or more appropriately, E la nave va.
The dance was finally cut short by the din of explosions from the encroaching war. One hopes the ship will some day deliver its “fools” to a better life of freedom and peace.