Ava Brown, Lily Linz, Ali Laith and Centauri Starfall in Antigone. Credit: Submitted

Greek tragedy is considered the root of western theater, though its original format can feel strange and stiff to our modern sensibilities. The themes are still relevant, touching as they do on the human condition and broad philosophical questions. Cal Poly Humboldt students, under the guidance of director Cynthia Martells, found creative ways to bridge the gap between current culture and ancient ritual to deliver the timeless questions posed by Sophocles’ Antigone (English translation by Dudley Fitts and Robert Fitzgerald). A historical reproduction would have felt like a history lesson. A fully modern interpretation would have felt disconnected from the source. Instead, this production placed the story in an other-worldly realm that allowed an easier suspension of disbelief and had a surreal edge that tied the past to the present. 

The play is set in Thebes immediately after a civil war. Antigone’s (Lily Linz) two brothers fought for the throne and killed each other. Their uncle Creon (Ali Laith) has assumed power and decreed that one brother would be buried as a hero, while the other would be left unburied on the battlefield as a traitor. Antigone, unable to stand for the desecration of her brother, no matter the politics of his death, goes against the king’s decree, is caught in the act of burying her brother and sentenced to death. Many appeal to Creon to reduce his punishment or make an exception, but he remains unmoved. Only the dire warnings from the blind prophet Teiresias (Oscar VanDernedde) convince Creon to change his mind, but he is too late to save Antigone. He also loses his son and wife due to his decision to punish Antigone. In the end, he is wretched and alone, undone by his hubris.

The visuals of the production lean toward the surreal by imposing unexpected divergences from the familiar. The scenic design (Robert Pickering) evokes ancient Greece with hard lines, right angles and a muted gold tone set against the backdrop of a large, ominous mountain. A pair of tall asymmetrical pillar elements that frame the mountain skew away from the overall square theme, giving a surreal contrast, like you couldn’t quite trust what you were seeing. 

The costumes (Rae Robison) are likewise designed to shake up expectations. They evoke a fractured kind of otherworldliness by adding asymmetrical angles and features paired with anachronistic elements that tap into modern cultural clues, helping us contextualize the characters. The characters’ societal ranks are depicted with items we’re familiar with, such as business suits, dresses and military jackets. The familiar is made strange with the addition of shoulder sashes and long asymmetrical fronts on the soldier’s jackets. The women wear soft, flowing garb that’s pinned or cut to create unexpected voids and edges. King Creon has an especially long golden sash that trails behind him. Laith uses it to accentuate emotional notes: He throws it back and strides across the stage in anger, or gathers it close and worries it in fear. As unusual as such a long sash is on a nice business suit, he sells it as a normal, indeed useful, item of power. The mask worn by the blind prophet Teiresias is beautiful and otherworldly. It also seems to be an homage to the masks worn by the chorus in ancient times. 

The action also falls into a surreal, in-between realm. The players do not follow the ancient Greek tragedy formula. The chorus is instead directed into individuals delivering lines to each other as dialogue. They still provide context and commentary, but as a proxy audience to the story they are a part of. 

While the chorus offers some emotional nuance, the main characters stay true to the formal melodramatic roots of the play. Laith makes Creon a feared leader with powerful confidence beyond mere arrogance in every measured line. Linz gives Antigone the fierce confidence needed to match Creon. Haylee Potter makes Ismene relatable in her misery, while stuck between two powerful personalities and their conflicting moral directions. Linz and Potter represent two sides of a coin along with Antigone and Ismene. Among the grief, agony and tyranny there must be comedy. The Sentry (Aspen Benz) is a welcome relief, one of the 99 percent with the unfortunate lot of being the deliverer of bad news to the 1 percent. 

Overall, the performances are engaging across the cast. The actors embodied their characters without reservation. On occasion, the volume of a performance on opening night undermined its emotional power. But, every performance is an opportunity for actors to learn more technical nuances to deliver the emotional impact they wish to impart.

The venue, Gist Hall Theater, is an intimate theater on campus with highly raked seating that offers a commanding view of the stage. It was a full house on opening night, many patrons holding bouquets to give to the young actors after. The student support and enthusiasm for the production were a joy to witness. It seemed as though the entire cast and crew had someone in the audience rooting for them. I know I certainly was, and I hope you will, too.

Cal Poly Humboldt’s production of Antigone continues at Gist Hall Theatre Friday and Saturday, Nov. 14 and 15, at 7:30 p.m., and on Sunday, Nov. 16, at 2 p.m. Tickets at tickets.humboldt.edu/dance-music-and-theatre.

Doranna Benker Gilkey (she/her) is a longtime Humboldt County resident and can often be found at her store Dandar’s Boardgames and Books in Arcata.

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