Ukraine's Gregory Hlady makes his mark in theater in Quebec
by Alexandra Hawryluk
MONTREAL - Immobilized in pools of overhead light the seven colorfully costumed actors were in stark contrast to the all-black loft of the Infinitheatre in Montreal. One would think that the sight of a black-robed Garbiel Gascon, the venerable French actor, draped in a purple veil, and the sight of Héloise Depocas in white Kabuki make-up wearing a long, scarlet dress from India, a girl in a black-and-white Ukrainian costume, and a young man in a tan trench coat - both with wire mesh wings on their backs - would be enough to suggest that the spectators might be in for something unusual.
Yet, from the moment this tableau sprang into action right to the very end of the two-hour presentation, the creator and director of "Kateryna's Dreams," Gregory Hlady, never ceases to amaze, never fails to move his audience.
Inspired by the magical and mysterious atmosphere of Mykola Hohol's story "A Terrible Vengeance," Mr. Hlady creates a theater piece that immerses the spectator in the invisible current that flows, in Jean Vanier's words, "beneath the brightly painted surface of our ordered lives." Unlike a conventional play concerned with narrative and conflict resolution, "Kateryna's Dreams" presents the audience with a sequence of psychological and spiritual revelations centered on dying, grieving and longing in which, as in our dreams, time is thrown out of whack. The past, the future, the present moment, the long-dead ancestors, the living, and those about to die, ancient ritual, flashes of humor, are all intertwined into one magical, dynamic whole.
Although the play seems to be about the death of the family patriarch (Gabriel Gascon) and the reaction to that death by his wife (Valentyna Blagodatska), his son (Gregory Hlady), his daughter Kateryna (Héloise Depocas) and Kateryna's husband (Pierre-André Côté), it is really about each character's encounter with their own death, their own quest for meaning and connectedness. It is only when these characters discern their ancestors' footprints on the path they themselves are treading and when they become aware of the ancestors' loving presence at the gate, that they recover confidence and hope.
Curiously, this is not a gloomy piece of theater, but rather one in which our perception of death, bereavement and the hereafter is clarified to the point where we lose our apprehension and begin to see the cyclical process of life and death as a wonderful, heart-rendering, but surprisingly joyful, spiritual adventure.
Mr. Hlady believes that in order to make sense of life and in order to understand our destiny "We need to get in touch with the past. That is an absolute necessity - to know who you are, who were your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, your ancestors." For him the experience of ancestors, as it is distilled in ancient folk songs, is the key. So, it is not surprising that he chose the ancient Ukrainian lament as a means of introducing his audience to understanding human experience in a new way. The natural delivery of these powerful songs, the evocative voice of Ms. Depocas (Kateryna), the haunting quality of the ensemble singing, along with the sensitivity of the musicians, especially the violinist Ivan Zavada, heightened the sense of immediacy, so much so, that even the Ukrainian lyrics become secondary to the total effect.
But there were moments where the non-Ukrainian audience was at a disadvantage. Although the cosmic anguish of regret embodied in the guardian angel's cry over the dead patriarch: "On the way from hell, I lost the keys to paradise. Oh, God have mercy on me" moved the whole audience, it nevertheless touched more deeply those who understood Ukrainian. On the other hand, language is not a barrier when death turns lovely Kateryna's world upside down. Despairing, she climbs a gymnast's rope and hanging above the funeral bier in a beautiful head-down arabesque sings out "Sertse rozryvaye." Nor was the poignancy of Mr. Gascon's "Kru, kru" - the refrain of the "Cranes" (Zhuravli) lament - lost on the audience.
But there are other, more subtle reasons for using these old, half-forgotten songs. While singing these laments, Mr. Hlady explained, "You create a kind of trace in time and space. You get into a melody as if you were entering a tunnel, or a road you must follow. So you travel in it and suddenly, you feel a new dimension opening up. You get into an altered state of consciousness which is very close to meditation, to chanting ... [because] singing is an expression of the very core of the soul." And as strange as it may sound, the audience feels this change and something of the actors' experience resonates in them, too.
Mr. Hlady's theater friends and students, however, would not be surprised by any of this. Like Mr. Hlady, Yaroslav Fedoryshyn, the artistic director of Lviv's Resurrection Theater (Voskresinnia), believes that "Theater is, after all, an expression of our inner world. It's a search for self."
Mr. Hlady, however, takes this idea a little further. He believes that theater should not just stimulate thought, but it should also dare to confront important transcendental issues. Under the influence of poetic cinema, especially Sergei Paradzhanov's "Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors" and Leonid Osyka's "The Stone Cross" and the experimental theater of Poland's Jerzy Grotowski, Mr. Hlady is committed to expressing ideas in the mode of magic realism. That is, he is more interested in giving his audiences a unique experience, than telling them a story. So, myth, ritual, naturally delivered song, live music, symbolism and what Mr. Hlady calls "the topography of dreams" serve as tools for creating that experience for audiences everywhere.
Not only have his enthusiasm for exploring experimental technique, his solid acting and directing skills given him a special niche in Canadian alternative theater, but they have also taken him to Austria, Germany, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland and Ukraine, where he has conducted master classes for actors and directors interested in the expressive qualities of magic realism.
In Canada, where he has been living for the past 10 years, Mr. Hlady has been lauded for his innovative approach to Harold Pinter's "The Homecoming," his exciting French adaptation of Franz Kafka's "Amerika," and his extraordinary adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's "The Prisoner" at Canada's National Theater School in Montreal.
The surprising thing is that this native of Lviv, now working largely in French Quebec, is able to use Ukrainian culture as a dramatic medium and use it not for its anthropological interest, but rather for its ability to communicate the cumulative wisdom of generations past, for its ability to cast new light on the understanding of the human condition.
"Kateryna's Dreams" premiered at Infinitheatre in Montreal on February 28 and continued to play to a full house until March 10. It was funded by the Ukrainian Canadian Foundation of Taras Shevchenko, Canada Council, The Arts Council of Quebec and The Arts Council of the Urban Community of Montreal.
Alexandra Hawryluk is a radio commentator working in Montreal.
Gregory Hlady: a short biography
Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, April 7, 2002, No. 14, Vol. LXX
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