Modern Contemporary Theatre (even when applied to a now almost classical text) shares some features with Modern Contemporary Art. One relates to but one has no fun, most of the times.
Yesterday I took Timotchka'sMother to a "Woyzeck" that the Teatro Nacional São João (from Oporto) was presenting in the hyper-cool new-yorkish premises of the "Abadía".
Heavy stuff, Woyzeck, we all know that (even in Alban Berg's operatic mode) .. The opression of class.. the oppression of psychiatric medical experimentation.. the opression of zero self-esteem following cuckholdery... the opression of being poor (period).
The director, Nuno Cardoso, managed to make us feel all those forms of oppression quite well, and showed sheer brilliance in a couple of cenographic solutions. Pity that he had to indulge in theatrical exhibitionism in the scene he was acting (as Doctor) dressed only with surgical rubber gloves. Is the director-actor's genitalia an important element in our enjoyment intellectual or otherwise) of the play? Very doubtful.. Us, bourgeois, are no longer "épatés" by these tricks.. Another flaccid modestly-proportioned penis on stage?.. O, Dear... (yawns..)