Oroonoko looks at the horrors of slavery
Adaptation of 17th-century novel is compelling, mesmerizing and well staged,
By Pat Donnelly/ The Gazette / February 12, 2013
A play that takes on racial discrimination, women’s rights, class war, and colonialism, all at one sitting, is an ambitious project.
But Paul Van Dyck’s remarkable adaptation of 17th-century author Aphra Behn’s novel Oroonoko, or The Royal Slave manages to bring it all home, at the MAI Centre.
Oroonoko is a compelling, beautifully staged, pedagogically nourishing work. Van Dyck’s adaptation remains true, in its fashion, to the period as well as the author. But he has taken liberties, too. The author herself (played by Rebecca Croll) appears on stage, sipping tea with a wealthy British benefactor (Shannon Hamilton), which splits the narrative in two.
The main story revolves around an African warrior prince named Oroonoko (played by Jaa Smith-Johnson) who loses his love, his freedom, and eventually his will to live.
Behn’s African characters, their situations and dialogue remain the fanciful creations of a white British woman who lived a highly adventurous life during the Restoration era. Realism was not her genre. And she wrote in long, convoluted, stuffy sentences, as was the custom then.
Yet her heart was in the right place. And she was ahead of her time, in that she wrote for a living (one of the first women to do so), and was one of the first writers to condemn slavery.
Her Oroonoko, in which a brave young royal is betrayed by his regal, powerful grandfather and sold into slavery, was written in 1688. The British Slave Trade Act wasn’t passed until 1807. And keeping slaves wasn’t fully outlawed until the Slavery Abolition Act of 1883. (In the United States, slavery officially ended with the passing of the 13th Amendment in 1865, as anyone who has seen the movie Lincoln knows.)
The plot of Oroonoko is fascinating in that it deals with class and rank within African societies as well as in European ones, and brings out the disturbing fact that some Africans sold their own into slavery. Still, Behn’s assertion that a powerful, lecherous grandfather might jeopardize the future of his people by selling his grandson to a British slave trader, out of jealousy over a woman, is undeniably far-fetched.
Some of the dialogue is archaic. And the tone is often melodramatic. But the play’s ability to mesmerize and to convey a profound sense of grief over the horrors of slavery is undeniable. The moment that the metal cuffs are locked onto Oroonoko’s wrists speaks volumes.
The cast is impressive, particularly Aiza Ntibarikure as Oroonoko’s love interest, Imoinda, and Smith-Johnson as Oroonoko. Their love seems genuine as well as star-crossed. Musical director/actor Dumisizwe Vuyo Bhembe is all charm and treachery as the grandfather king. Chris Hicks and Letitia Brookes team up well as another doomed pair of lovers. Alex Goldrich, as the slave trader, and Christopher Moore, as the slave owner, mix hypocritical and ruthless, as required. Amos Bohoussou is everywhere, in various roles.
The use of authentic African music performed live (Patience Mupolonga on percussion) and the simple canvas sheet and poles set designed by Peter Vatsis to divide the stage into multiple locales, enhance the work of a strong ensemble. As director, Van Dyck has maintained a strong momentum, with few lulls.
This Persephone Theatre production has unapologetically crossed over into Black Theatre Workshop territory — during Black History Month. BTW take note.
Oroonoko makes four hits in a row for professional anglo theatre in Montreal. And the preceding three, Waiting for the Barbarians at Segal Centre, Innocence Lost at the Segal Centre and Infinitheatre’s Kafka’s Ape at Le Bain St. Michel, are all still running. They share thematic links (injustice, love, war) and each one is enhanced by seeing the other.
Oroonoko, adapted and directed by Paul Van Dyck, from a novel by Aphra Behn, continues until Feb. 17 at MAI Centre, 3680 Jeanne Mance St. Tickets $25, student/senior $20. Call 514-982-3386 or visit www.persephoneproductions.org
pdonnell@montrealgazette.com
By Pat Donnelly/ The Gazette / February 12, 2013
A play that takes on racial discrimination, women’s rights, class war, and colonialism, all at one sitting, is an ambitious project.
But Paul Van Dyck’s remarkable adaptation of 17th-century author Aphra Behn’s novel Oroonoko, or The Royal Slave manages to bring it all home, at the MAI Centre.
Oroonoko is a compelling, beautifully staged, pedagogically nourishing work. Van Dyck’s adaptation remains true, in its fashion, to the period as well as the author. But he has taken liberties, too. The author herself (played by Rebecca Croll) appears on stage, sipping tea with a wealthy British benefactor (Shannon Hamilton), which splits the narrative in two.
The main story revolves around an African warrior prince named Oroonoko (played by Jaa Smith-Johnson) who loses his love, his freedom, and eventually his will to live.
Behn’s African characters, their situations and dialogue remain the fanciful creations of a white British woman who lived a highly adventurous life during the Restoration era. Realism was not her genre. And she wrote in long, convoluted, stuffy sentences, as was the custom then.
Yet her heart was in the right place. And she was ahead of her time, in that she wrote for a living (one of the first women to do so), and was one of the first writers to condemn slavery.
Her Oroonoko, in which a brave young royal is betrayed by his regal, powerful grandfather and sold into slavery, was written in 1688. The British Slave Trade Act wasn’t passed until 1807. And keeping slaves wasn’t fully outlawed until the Slavery Abolition Act of 1883. (In the United States, slavery officially ended with the passing of the 13th Amendment in 1865, as anyone who has seen the movie Lincoln knows.)
The plot of Oroonoko is fascinating in that it deals with class and rank within African societies as well as in European ones, and brings out the disturbing fact that some Africans sold their own into slavery. Still, Behn’s assertion that a powerful, lecherous grandfather might jeopardize the future of his people by selling his grandson to a British slave trader, out of jealousy over a woman, is undeniably far-fetched.
Some of the dialogue is archaic. And the tone is often melodramatic. But the play’s ability to mesmerize and to convey a profound sense of grief over the horrors of slavery is undeniable. The moment that the metal cuffs are locked onto Oroonoko’s wrists speaks volumes.
The cast is impressive, particularly Aiza Ntibarikure as Oroonoko’s love interest, Imoinda, and Smith-Johnson as Oroonoko. Their love seems genuine as well as star-crossed. Musical director/actor Dumisizwe Vuyo Bhembe is all charm and treachery as the grandfather king. Chris Hicks and Letitia Brookes team up well as another doomed pair of lovers. Alex Goldrich, as the slave trader, and Christopher Moore, as the slave owner, mix hypocritical and ruthless, as required. Amos Bohoussou is everywhere, in various roles.
The use of authentic African music performed live (Patience Mupolonga on percussion) and the simple canvas sheet and poles set designed by Peter Vatsis to divide the stage into multiple locales, enhance the work of a strong ensemble. As director, Van Dyck has maintained a strong momentum, with few lulls.
This Persephone Theatre production has unapologetically crossed over into Black Theatre Workshop territory — during Black History Month. BTW take note.
Oroonoko makes four hits in a row for professional anglo theatre in Montreal. And the preceding three, Waiting for the Barbarians at Segal Centre, Innocence Lost at the Segal Centre and Infinitheatre’s Kafka’s Ape at Le Bain St. Michel, are all still running. They share thematic links (injustice, love, war) and each one is enhanced by seeing the other.
Oroonoko, adapted and directed by Paul Van Dyck, from a novel by Aphra Behn, continues until Feb. 17 at MAI Centre, 3680 Jeanne Mance St. Tickets $25, student/senior $20. Call 514-982-3386 or visit www.persephoneproductions.org
pdonnell@montrealgazette.com