While at first the refrain, ‘Non, je ne regrette rien’, which underpins the action of The Tragedy of Antigone, might seem a strange choice, it is completely in keeping with the dramatic irony that typifies a Sophoclean tragedy. In this version, Antigone has cause to regret an outcome she would not have considered possible.
The performance opens with a tableau-like stage arrangement. On one side, a loving and solemn Antigone (Erica J. Brennan) is presumably giving her slain brother, Eteocles, the burial rites that will ensure his soul’s transition to the underworld. To the far left crouches the figure of the blind seer, Tiresias (Pollyanna Nowicki), whispering into the ear of the Ferryman (Gideon Payten-Griffiths) waiting to carry the souls of the dead across the Styx and Acheron to Hades. In their shadow sit the silent citizens of Thebes.
Enter centre stage the spectral figure of the blinded Oedipus (Aslam Abdus-samad). In a speech borrowed from Oedipus Rex he provides a context for the ensuing conflict between Antigone, his daughter, and the new ruler of Thebes, her aunt, Kreon. “War has just ended / War between my sons / Both dead / It is dark / All dark / It is Antigone’s turn”, Oedipus intones, confirming for us that the death of Antigone will bring full circle the tragic destruction of his bloodline.
Her fate is set in motion immediately, underscored by a circle inscribed upon the floor by Tiresias and reiterated throughout by the doom-filled rhythmical thumping staffs carried by the chorus. Brushing aside the opposition of her more modest sister Ismene (Bodelle de Ronde), a passionate Antigone is adamant she will bury her brother Polynices in defiance of Kreon’s edict forbidding it. As Polynices set out to conquer Thebes he is a traitor to the city and Kreon decrees his burial a crime punishable by death, blind to any considerations of kinship or what is owing to the gods.
Antigone, however, is blind to the pragmatic decisions a new ruler may feel necessary for the re-establishment of order after the chaos of war. She vows that “If I die / That’s love / My brother and I / Side by side / That’s a good crime”. Kreon, angered at seeing both her authority and the new social order resisted in the name of individual conscience, reacts blindly, condemning her niece to a cruel death.
Since Kreon is punished for her actions by the loss of a spouse and a son, Haemon (Dave Buckley), as well as the forfeiture of her good name, does Antigone triumph? Her reputation is ensured and she is reunited with Polynices (Abdus-samad) on the shores of the Acheron before transition to Hades’ kingdom. However, Antigone has herself questioned “If this [her action] is good / In their eyes / These gods / Then I’ll learn / Soon enough / If I’m wrong”. As the unyielding gates close on her screams, there is both horror at the unforeseeable and pity for her fate.
Antigone is likely to be Sophocles’ own variation of the Oedipus story and he intended his Theban audience to read it in a particular way. Is he pitting order based on fidelity through kinship against order based on loyalty to the polis? Is it morally more significant that Polynices is a traitor to the city than a brother to Antigone? Living in our fraught world, this may be how we read it.
Ninefold is an ensemble under the direction of Magsalin and are known for their engagement with the rigour of the Suzuki method of actor training. Their full commitment to the physical and emotional demands of their roles is very much in evidence, and they presented their unique version with power and a stark economy.
