Perguntam-me não raras vezes:
- "Qual o livro de José Saramago que mais gostaste de ler?"
A resposta que pode ser dada a cada momento:
- "Impossível de dizer... não sei responder, não seria justo para com outros (livros) não nomeados. Mas uma coisa sempre soube. Uma obra de Saramago, enquanto "pseudo ser vivo" ou com "gente dentro" tem que me raptar, prender-me, não me deixar sair de dentro das suas páginas. Fazer de mim um refém, e só me libertar no final da leitura... mesmo ao chegar à última página. Aí, o "Eu" leitor que se mantém refém, liberta-se da "gente que a obra transporta dentro" e segue o seu caminho.
Mas segue um caminho que se faz caminhando, conjuntamente com mais uma família"

Rui Santos

sexta-feira, 22 de julho de 2016

Via "IT The Irish Times" - Notícia sobre a encenação de "Death at Intervals review: A wealth of talent wasted on a facile idea" (As Intermitências da Morte)

Notícia publicada no "IT The Irish Times", sobra a adaptação da obra de José Saramago - "As Intermitências da Morte", pela companhia An Taibhdhearc (National Irish Language Theatre).
Aqui mais informações, 

"Death at Intervals review: A wealth of talent wasted on a facile idea"

This adaptation of José Saramago’s novel treats death as merely a narcissistic threat to the individual
by Peter Crawley

Death often wears a face in theatre and almost always comes with a task. He is God’s emissary, summoning Everyman to give a final account of his life; a practised debater in Death and the Ploughman, defending his actions; or someone in need of a holiday in the widely adapted La Morte in Vacanza. Now, in Kellie Hughes’s sepulchral stage adaptation of José Saramago’s magic realist novel, death is something quite ethereal: descending a black staircase in a red coat, with cascading hair as white as sea foam, and a fascinated expression. Death takes the striking form of Olwen Fouéré.
The object of her fascination is a musician of modest nature and mild ability, with no other distinguishing characteristics; less Everyman than Nobody. Played with a quiet, contained charm by Raymond Scannell, he sits at a grand piano that has been hollowed out to faintly suggest a coffin, playing sombre cadences with occasional flourishes. Like everything within Alma Keliher’s sound design, both music and voice here come amplified – Scannell, a gifted musician, is playing live, but you wouldn’t know it – and the effect makes action and consequence seem oddly divorced.
This may correspond with the narrative, which finds mortality on the fritz when death takes a holiday. In a nameless country, where everyone speaks as though through stolid translation, no one has died since the start of the year, and eternal life is taking its toll. In the story’s one intriguing idea, related by Fouéré like a calm parable, people begin smuggling their dead over the border where finality is still functional, like refugees from life.
Hughes concentrates instead on an extended duet between two nonentities: the personification of death, to which Fouéré lends her gravity and physical precision; and the barely sketched musician, to which Scannell lends his fingers.
Under Hughes’s direction, they approach each other with the warmth and passion of two glaciers. He is “troubled” by her, but “not afraid”. “Prudence only delays the inevitable,” she responds. Half an hour later, they’re still at it, laboriously wondering on the phone which of them is the cat and the mouse in this game.
Some will find it amusing to see death portrayed in this way, as an adolescent crush, the musician anxiously wondering why she hasn’t called. But a production that treats death as merely a narcissistic threat to the individual, or worse, a force that is stunned into marvelling submission by the glory of art, is confoundingly solipsistic. Is this woman life, wonders the oblivious musician at one point. “No, I’m much more complicated than that,” she responds. Sadly, with a wealth of talent addressed to a facile idea, this production doesn’t take her at her word.
Until July 24th"

Fotografia: Ros Kavanagh

Mais informações aqui, 

"Death at Intervals"

Kellie Hughes and GIAF

Theatre - 22 Jul, 23 Jul, 24 Jul

at An Taibhdhearc

Each of you has his or her own death, you carry it with you in a secret place from the moment you're born, it belongs to you and you belong to it

For millennia, death, with chilling precision, has brought an end to those selected to meet their destiny. But what would happen if death put away her emblematic scythe and withdrew from everyday life?

Inspired by Nobel Prize winner José Saramago’s darkly humorous novel As Intermitências da Morte (translator Margaret Jull Costa), Death at Intervals invites you into the surreal world of an otherwise unremarkable musician, who meets his own death in beguiling human form with surprising consequences. 

The world premiere is adapted by Kellie Hughes in collaboration with theatre artist Olwen Fouéré, actor/musician Raymond Scannell and sound designer Alma Kelliher.

This collaboration brings together an exciting creative team which also includes lighting designer Michael Cummins, master carpenter Cillian Ó Súilleabháin and costume designer Niamh Lunny. 

Combining theatre, music and original song lyrics, Death at Intervals interrogates our complex relationship with the grim reaper in an unconventional and touching duet between death and her musician.

Backstage at the Festival

21 July

Post–show talk with the company moderator, Prof. Patrick Lonergan, NUI Galway

Pic: Ros Kavanagh"

Para consulta

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