On the third day, the Marjanishvili’s presentations closed with the first act of Levan Tsuladze’s current work on The Lady With The Dog, a short story by Chekhov. The production presented a unique mixture of puppets and actors on stage that was both thought-provoking and emotionally intense.
The story of Dimitri Dmitrich Gurov’s affair with the married Anna Sergeyevna during their convalescence in Yalta is introduced as a dream by an ageing incarnation of the protagonist. These reminiscences set the stage for the following dissolution of the boundaries between the real (represented by the actors) and the imaginary (represented by the puppets). Like in the Fingers Theatre, the puppeteers convince through their precise control of the marionettes, which imparts a special, sharp significance to each of their gestures.
This realm of distilled emotions and memories is at first juxtaposed with a more realistic environment in which the audience encounters the embodied equivalents of the puppets’ characters. Thus, we are abe to compare the story as experienced and transmitted by Dimitri the puppet with the version that is enacted by a younger human version of Dimitri (Nika Tavadze).
The true magic of Tsuladze’s staging emerges when the human characters are confronted with their puppet counterparts. It is as if the characters are facing themselves in a dream, and are suddenly asked to either reject or embrace some of their exaggerated personal aspects. Throughout the play, the different planes of the puppets and the actors mix freely and with smooth transitions: a miniature newspaper unfolds into a larger version when passed on to the actor, flowers are exchanged between actor and puppet and so on. In some instances, even the puppeteers, who otherwise display a remarkable self-discipline in channelling all of their emotions solely through their marionettes, are included in this colourful dance between fiction, fact, and the metatheatrical level.
Within fantasy and dream, the heightened acting style of the Georgian performers finally finds its true expressionistic strength. It matches the formal implications of the puppets remarkably, and leads to a charged and delectable otherworldly atmosphere. Anna Sergeyevna’s (XXX) porcelain beauty mirrors this glittering and tantalizingly unapproachable surface most appropriately.
In contrast to A Midsummer Night’s Dream and even Kakutsa Cholokashvili, music and the simple sound effect of the waves on the beach are not just a decorative veneer, but are vital in the creation of this unique world. Given the sparse use of words in this production, the music takes on an important narrative function, providing a strong rhythmic structure from which the puppets take their cues.
I was truly disappointed that I could not see the rest of this extraordinary performance, but as the promising end-point of the Marjanishvili’s presentation of their work, The Lady with the Dog was extremely effective.
