Sing Goddess, of the classicists’ journey to the circus-cabaret ITHACA, the amazing sights they saw, and how they survived to tell the tale…
I’m a classicist that led a small group including an MA in Ancient History from Auckland, a fellow BA in Classics, and an MA in Archaeology from Harvard. Bravely we joined the queue for Q Theatre, to be seated as an audience at tables of six. Champagne, fresh oysters and other delicious delicacies were served continuously, just as though we really were dining in the dreamy land of the lotus-eaters.
ITHACA is a futuristic adaption of Homer’s Odyssey about Odysseus sailing home to his faithful wife Penelope waiting on the island of Ithaca. Since the 3000-year-old Greek original contains robot-ships, mythical beings and fabulous adventures it translates perfectly into a science fiction universe cleverly designed to showcase the outstanding acrobatic skills of the Dust Palace theatrical troupe.
The stage for Odysseus’ spaceship resembles the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, and so it begins, “Captain’s log, star date 2292…” His spaceship is called the Argo, so his crew are Argonaut astronauts. Homer never did name Odysseus’ ship, but simply called it a ‘fast black boat’, so Argo (“Speedy”) seems apt. However, considering the length of time it took tardy Odysseus to sail home, we joked about the Tardo of the Tardonauts. In Greek mythology, Jason led his Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece. He succeeded thanks to the barbarian witch Medea, whom he married, but when Jason later took another royal wife, Medea burnt her alive, murdered their children and escaped in a flying chariot pulled by dragons. Being unfaithful sometimes has extreme consequences!
Mike Edward plays Odysseus, who dominates every scene as the charismatic hero leading his ragtag band. Turning his telescope on faraway Ithaca, he is shocked to see his beautiful wife Penelope (Eve Gordon) pirouetting in silk ropes, entwined with her suitors in most unseemly fashion. Moving up and down the threads might suggest the weaving and unweaving of her tapestry. Except that this is a modern liberated Penelope, fully the equal of her mate Odysseus, and capable of knowing many men while still remaining true in her heart to her one great love, absent in unknown parts. In this Homeric retelling, the Fates of cunning Odysseus and faithful Penelope are amusingly reversed.
The circus acrobatics are superlatively stunning, leaving you both amazed at the phenomenal amount of training endured to get so good, yet how they make it all look so effortless, full body weight balanced on a finger tip, a casual smile on the lips. The athletes perform within arm’s reach, or straight above your head. Here is cabaret right in your face, so intimate you feel the dancer’s breath on your cheek. Not only do you fear for the acrobats’ lives, as they gyrate dangerously above you, but also for your own, since one slip will send them flying into your lap. There is nowhere else you can experience danger, excitement and fear this real, apart from the Trojan battlefield. This stuff just has to be seen to be believed.
The show is accompanied by live music, as hauntingly beautiful Siren Songs where Odysseus struggles tied to the mast, or high-power rhythms to the jaw-dropping stunts. The witch Circe introduces her fantastic performing human-pet Dog, and casts the entangling net of the sea-nymph Calypso that draws her prey to the heavens. She seduces our hero with a sexual energy that makes ITHACA a rival of Sybaris in outrageous decadence. Circe-Calypso resigns herself (or himself – don’t ask!) to loving without love, in an unforgettably camp romp culminating in gyrating rumps twerking the audience.
Swinging trapezes, falling sashes, spinning human hoops, and when they run out of props – they simply begin flinging flying girls soaring high across the room. This is a show of extremes, sheer brute physicality at one end, running all the way to subtle intellectual humour at the other (and both may go over your head). The aerial acrobatics are indeed out of this world, but the Dust Palace troupe also excel at creative dance and the slow motion effects of their temporary weightlessness really does give the surreal illusion that they are defying gravity.
The Astronauts take pity to pick up a marooned space-creature that becomes the malevolent Scylla in a blitzkrieg psychic attack worthy of any really good Star Trek episode, as she proceeds to suck the life force out of the horrified crew. Homer would love it!
Virgil’s pleasant bucolic poetry often conjures up an Arcadian landscape of rustic shepherds singing while watching their bleating flocks gambol across green meadows. Here this delightful imagery is captured by the frolicking about the room of near-naked girls in sheep’s clothing. If you’re lucky, they may sit on your knee, and even two at once. They are guarded by the giant Cyclops, Polyphemus, suffering from his unrequited love of Galatea. Other interludes include the Lotus-eaters, Charybdis and Tartarus. This play has everything.
The climax sees Odysseus land in Ithaca where he must woo Penelope, who is clearly torn in a choice between him or her suitors. Odysseus’ heartfelt rendition singing “the first time, ever I saw your face,” evocative of the face that launched a thousand ships, tips Cupid’s scales and Penelope runs into his waiting arms. Triumph! Lovers are good, but love is better, and so we get our happy ending that unlike Homer’s original does not require a brutal mass murder of the 108 suitors.
We left the Q Theatre in a state of mild euphoria, as if waking from a pleasant dream, and wondering if what we’d seen was real or now only imagined. If you want an entertainment so unique, so intimate, and so thrilling that it leaves your head spinning, a smile on your face and stars in your eyes then brave souls make the journey to ITHACA to learn something new about yourself. And I haven’t even told you the best part.
I’m a classicist that led a small group including an MA in Ancient History from Auckland, a fellow BA in Classics, and an MA in Archaeology from Harvard. Bravely we joined the queue for Q Theatre, to be seated as an audience at tables of six. Champagne, fresh oysters and other delicious delicacies were served continuously, just as though we really were dining in the dreamy land of the lotus-eaters.
ITHACA is a futuristic adaption of Homer’s Odyssey about Odysseus sailing home to his faithful wife Penelope waiting on the island of Ithaca. Since the 3000-year-old Greek original contains robot-ships, mythical beings and fabulous adventures it translates perfectly into a science fiction universe cleverly designed to showcase the outstanding acrobatic skills of the Dust Palace theatrical troupe.
The stage for Odysseus’ spaceship resembles the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, and so it begins, “Captain’s log, star date 2292…” His spaceship is called the Argo, so his crew are Argonaut astronauts. Homer never did name Odysseus’ ship, but simply called it a ‘fast black boat’, so Argo (“Speedy”) seems apt. However, considering the length of time it took tardy Odysseus to sail home, we joked about the Tardo of the Tardonauts. In Greek mythology, Jason led his Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece. He succeeded thanks to the barbarian witch Medea, whom he married, but when Jason later took another royal wife, Medea burnt her alive, murdered their children and escaped in a flying chariot pulled by dragons. Being unfaithful sometimes has extreme consequences!
Mike Edward plays Odysseus, who dominates every scene as the charismatic hero leading his ragtag band. Turning his telescope on faraway Ithaca, he is shocked to see his beautiful wife Penelope (Eve Gordon) pirouetting in silk ropes, entwined with her suitors in most unseemly fashion. Moving up and down the threads might suggest the weaving and unweaving of her tapestry. Except that this is a modern liberated Penelope, fully the equal of her mate Odysseus, and capable of knowing many men while still remaining true in her heart to her one great love, absent in unknown parts. In this Homeric retelling, the Fates of cunning Odysseus and faithful Penelope are amusingly reversed.
The circus acrobatics are superlatively stunning, leaving you both amazed at the phenomenal amount of training endured to get so good, yet how they make it all look so effortless, full body weight balanced on a finger tip, a casual smile on the lips. The athletes perform within arm’s reach, or straight above your head. Here is cabaret right in your face, so intimate you feel the dancer’s breath on your cheek. Not only do you fear for the acrobats’ lives, as they gyrate dangerously above you, but also for your own, since one slip will send them flying into your lap. There is nowhere else you can experience danger, excitement and fear this real, apart from the Trojan battlefield. This stuff just has to be seen to be believed.
The show is accompanied by live music, as hauntingly beautiful Siren Songs where Odysseus struggles tied to the mast, or high-power rhythms to the jaw-dropping stunts. The witch Circe introduces her fantastic performing human-pet Dog, and casts the entangling net of the sea-nymph Calypso that draws her prey to the heavens. She seduces our hero with a sexual energy that makes ITHACA a rival of Sybaris in outrageous decadence. Circe-Calypso resigns herself (or himself – don’t ask!) to loving without love, in an unforgettably camp romp culminating in gyrating rumps twerking the audience.
Swinging trapezes, falling sashes, spinning human hoops, and when they run out of props – they simply begin flinging flying girls soaring high across the room. This is a show of extremes, sheer brute physicality at one end, running all the way to subtle intellectual humour at the other (and both may go over your head). The aerial acrobatics are indeed out of this world, but the Dust Palace troupe also excel at creative dance and the slow motion effects of their temporary weightlessness really does give the surreal illusion that they are defying gravity.
The Astronauts take pity to pick up a marooned space-creature that becomes the malevolent Scylla in a blitzkrieg psychic attack worthy of any really good Star Trek episode, as she proceeds to suck the life force out of the horrified crew. Homer would love it!
Virgil’s pleasant bucolic poetry often conjures up an Arcadian landscape of rustic shepherds singing while watching their bleating flocks gambol across green meadows. Here this delightful imagery is captured by the frolicking about the room of near-naked girls in sheep’s clothing. If you’re lucky, they may sit on your knee, and even two at once. They are guarded by the giant Cyclops, Polyphemus, suffering from his unrequited love of Galatea. Other interludes include the Lotus-eaters, Charybdis and Tartarus. This play has everything.
The climax sees Odysseus land in Ithaca where he must woo Penelope, who is clearly torn in a choice between him or her suitors. Odysseus’ heartfelt rendition singing “the first time, ever I saw your face,” evocative of the face that launched a thousand ships, tips Cupid’s scales and Penelope runs into his waiting arms. Triumph! Lovers are good, but love is better, and so we get our happy ending that unlike Homer’s original does not require a brutal mass murder of the 108 suitors.
We left the Q Theatre in a state of mild euphoria, as if waking from a pleasant dream, and wondering if what we’d seen was real or now only imagined. If you want an entertainment so unique, so intimate, and so thrilling that it leaves your head spinning, a smile on your face and stars in your eyes then brave souls make the journey to ITHACA to learn something new about yourself. And I haven’t even told you the best part.
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