Bringing the Polish Beckett to stage
Director Serina Griffin on Witkacy’s absurdist The Nun And The Madman
Polish writer Witkacy (1885-1939) was a maverick in his life and in his work. He has been called the Polish Beckett, though since he was dabbling in theatre of the absurd a generation before Beckett, perhaps Beckett should be called the Irish Witkacy. His play The Madman And The
Nun is at Dublin’s Smock Alley Theatre until next Friday.
For director Serina Griffin, one of the attractions of his writing is the way he makes the audience think. ‘He doesn’t give you anything on a plate. I want people to come to the play and maybe go – I’ve no idea what that was about. If they’re confused I’ll be very happy!’
Her remark comes from the nature of the writing about a universal subject. ‘It’s not realistic at all,’ she says. ‘I like that, because this man is trying to answer the question about the struggle between the individual and society.’
However, it’s not all gloom and doom. ‘We’re looking for the humour in it. I love that balance; something very dark followed by moments of humour.’
The play has been translated by Karolina Szemerda, whom Serina knows from their student days.
The asylum is a kind of metaphor for being trapped psychologically. ‘The nun and the madman are both restrained. In the original play the nun is a bit more innocent, but we made her stronger, because both these characters are searching for freedom – how can you be yourself and survive in society? It poses the question: How free am I?
‘One actor, talking about the madman, asked me, “What’s the deal with this guy?” I said, “Think of it as a guy who was very coddled by his parents, who said you can do anything, be as free as you want, we’re not going to say anything. And with that you maybe create a monster who can’t actually interact with society”.’
Which is not a bad description of Witkacy himself. His father encouraged him to express himself as freely as possible, and he was outrageously individualistic in his writing, his painting and his life, even experimenting with drugs, so that much of his work was ignored during his life.
Even in death he’s a mystery. When the Russians and Germans crossed into Poland in 1939, he was in a very weakened state and committed suicide. In 1988 the Polish government decided to reinter him officially, but when the coffin was examined it wasn’t his body.
‘That suits the play so well,’ says Serina. ‘The ending of it is so absurd, so cheeky, but I love that. This man is trying to answer all the questions about how to be an individual, how to escape all this, and then you think – he doesn’t escape!’
The Nun And The Madman, Smock Alley until Friday, June 13.