Half-Hearted: Irish Theatre, 2003

Abstract

Irish theater experienced an unusually quiet period in 2003. Although the year was free of the controversies that have overshadowed recent years, it was also too frequently free of excitement, creativity, and originality. Whether this was a sign of artistic inertia or overcautious restraint was often difficult to judge. This, after all, was the year before the Abbey Centenary, and there were strong indications that many theater companies were holding back their best work for the 2004 celebrations. But it was also the year in which—after more than a decade of investment—the Arts Council implemented major funding cuts to its theater program. Many companies learned in December, 2002, that their grants for the following year would be significantly reduced—in some cases by as much as 40 percent—leading many into a hasty reorganization of their 2003 schedules: tours were cancelled, productions scaled back or postponed indefinitely, and company administrators were made redundant. This created a sense of gloom that translated, in many instances, into conservative programming and half-hearted productions. However, financial difficulties can only partially explain the generally negative reactions that new work provoked during the year, with plays by many of Ireland's leading writers—Friel, Kilroy, Murphy, and Marie Jones—leaving audiences disappointed. Similarly, although many companies presented themselves as championing the development of new Irish writing, plays by young authors were too often staged prematurely during 2003. The year was not without some notable developments, however, particularly the growing popularity of international work in Ireland, the use of new media in theatrical productions, the development of dance and choreography, and the increasing sophistication of Irish theater criticism and publishing.1 [End Page 142] * * * Brian Friel's Performances was probably the most severely criticized new play by a major Irish writer. This criticism was due at least partially to the play's marketing campaign, which seemed to generate the expectation among audiences that they would be seeing a major new work from Ireland's leading dramatist. What they got instead was a sixty-minute chamber piece with no plot or dramatic action, and an ending that some found inconclusive. The attendant disappointment was understandable, if regrettable: while Performances is by no means equal in substance to Friel's longer works, it is a significant work in many ways. The play is balanced between two performances: the performance of a dialogue between the Czech composer Janaçek and a student of his work, and the performance at the conclusion of the play of a piece of Janaçek's music, which powerfully recontextualizes the debate that precedes it. This contrast between inconclusive dialogue and expressive musical performance allows Friel to dramatize his longstanding preoccupations about creativity and responsibility, and the public and private duties of the artist. More important, that contrast invites us to reconsider much of what we know about Friel himself: in the course of his dialogue, Janaçek makes a number of assertive statements about the role of the artist—statements which in many cases closely resemble Friel's own public ruminations on that subject—yet the conclusion of the piece implies that Janaçek does not fully believe his own arguments. The gradual unmasking of Janeçek the artist to reveal the private man can thus be seen as a reassessment by Friel of his own status as an artist, particularly in relation to the place posterity will award his writing. With echoes of Faith Healer (1979) and Dancing at Lughnasa (1990), Performances offers many interesting new ways to think about Friel's work. Notwithstanding the value of Performances to scholars of Friel, the play's brevity meant that it was regarded by many audiences as a rather poor return on the cost of a full-price ticket to the Gate Theatre; it might have been better received if produced with a longer piece, such as Aristocrats (1979), or with some of Friel's recent short works—The Yalta Game (2001), for example, might have...