Romance, with all its nervous flutters and dramatic swoons, can be hilarious. If not to the wretched lovers, certainly to those watching. And Pierre Beaumarchais's classic 1773 play, Le Barbier de Séville , revels in this — in love and its lunacies. It was performed by the CDDB-Theatre of Lorient, National Drama Centre (France) and National Theatre of Tirana (Albania).
Count Almaviva (Roland Trebicka), irredeemably in love, seeks the help of an old servant, Figaro (Helidon Fino), to unite him and his love. Figaro, the charmingly clever barber-surgeon who laughs at everything for fear that he may weep. Who lies without compunction, albeit for a good cause. An intriguing man, “welcomed in one town, imprisoned in another.”
But the woman in question, Rosine (Luiza Xhuvani), has been claimed by another. Doctor Bartholo (Neritan Licaj), who watches over his ward like a hawk, and wishes to marry her. And Neritan was almost the sole element of madness in the comedy, with everyone being more emotional, more theatrical than comical. Bartholo, exquisitely pale, creeping, hunched under the burden of his suspicions, a ring of keys weighing his head down. Who asks to read Rosine's letters — “By what right?” she demands; “By the right of the strong”, he thunders. Bartholo who believes we live in a barbarous age of “free-thinking, electricity, mosquitoes and drama.” And breaks into identical plaintive howls in moments of great joy as well as sorrow.
Rosine, hair pulled back severely into imprisonment, much like herself. Who, drops into identical swoons in moments of great joy as well as sorrow. There's also Bazile, a scheming music teacher, soul on sale, the voice of Lucifer whispering in Bartholo's ear, constantly switching sides to whoever has deeper pockets.
The play, directed by Eric Vigner, began with a perforated sheet as the backdrop, which slid and rotated to become the imaginings of balconies and walls, indoors and out, despair and hope. Shadows of actors shrunk, grew and danced on it as they moved, so that their expressions, though featureless, were magnified. Behind it all, a screen glowed the orange of pale sunsets. When viewed through the screen, the perforations seemed like the watchful eyes of the house where Rosine is imprisoned.
Finally, after much scheming, and Figaro brandishing his shaving blade meaningfully in the face of the villains, there is the happy ending. All through the play, Eduard Dashi, Agi Dashi and Hellidon Goro, played the guitar, the violin and the mandolin, their music living and dying in startling synchrony with the actors onstage.
Altogether, a simple, elegant act that holds much promise, in the house with the glowing, watchful eyes. For engaging as it was, the play was more an artistic interpretation of the comedy — and begged for more strangeness, for more darkness, more eccentricity.
The plays are held at Sir Mutha Venkata Subba Rao Concert Hall and Museum Theatre. For details call, 98946 09061.
