Eonnagata
Sylvie Guillem, Robert Lepage and Russell Maliphant
Sadler's Wells Theatre
London, England
26 February-8 March, 2009
by Judith Cruickshank
copyright 2009 by Judith Cruickshank
Just how much the average spectator gets out of a performance of Eonnagata, which is described as being “conceived and performed by Sylvie Guillem, Robert Lepage and Russell Maliphant”, will to some extent depend on how much he or she knows about the Chevalier d'Éon. The central thread of the piece – it can hardly be described as a ballet, although it certainly requires dancers – is the life of this curious 18th century Frenchman whose actual gender was a source of much speculation.
D'Éon was born in Burgundy in 1728, the son of a family which could best be described as gentry. He showed a precocious ability for languages, but more importantly, remarkable skill as a swordsman. On completing his education he entered the civil service and was then recruited as a spy, first being sent on a mission to Russia where legend has it he disguised himself as a woman. He returned to France in 1761, became a captain of Dragoons and fought bravely in the Seven Years War. He was wounded, and decorated by Louis XV.
In 1763 he was appointed Minister to London, where he continued his activities as a spy, but refused to return to France when recalled. He was eventually granted a pension and settled in London where rumours about his gender persisted. After the death of Louis XV D'Éon petitioned to return to France and to be recognised as a woman. The request was granted and ever after D'Éon wore female dress, even when participating in fencing tournaments and displays. She died in London in 1810, having spent her last years in poverty, living in a genteel quarter of London with a widow, Mrs Cole. When she died it came as a shock to her companion and her neighbours that she was anatomically male.
The second part of the title refers to onnegata; the Kabuki tradition of having men play women's roles in a highly stylised fashion. And the slow, ritualistic style of Japanese theatre sets the pace for this piece.
When first approached by Guillem, Lepage imagined he was being invited simply to direct. He soon discovered that he was expected to perform. The team is completed by the lighting designer Michael Hulls, sound designer Jean-Sébastien Côté and the couturier Alexander McQueen, responsible for the amazing costumes.
The structure of the piece is episodic and while D'Éon's life provides the thread, the theme seems to be illusion and the changing nature of things. The body we see in silhouette putting on a kimono is Maliphant's unquestionably masculine form, but then suddenly we see Guillem's slender limbs inside the garment. Guillem, clad in the same white draperies, stands motionless except for her slim white arms which emerge from the sleeves to form elaborate patterns, but then her feminine right arm is matched by a male left arm. The glittering sword wielded by first Lepage, and then Maliphant, becomes the quill pen with which Guillem writes her petition to the King of France.
At one point Guillem is manipulated like a Bunraku puppet by two black clad men, at another Malphant shifts her supple, inert body around the stage with one of the long staves used in Kendo fighting. One of the most magical illusions comes towards the end of the piece when the mirrored top of an upended table shows us Guillem's upper half seemingly completed by Maliphant's legs and vice versa, and then a truly amazing moment when one after the other both dancers appear to be levitating.
The 'danced' action is punctuated throughout by spoken passages, either describing D'Éon's life, quoting from his letters, or at the very beginning of the evening, Aristophane's description of the beginnings of human sexuality. Wearing the most magnificent scarlet satin coat, Guillem recites the theory of how human beings originally had the characteristics of both sexes, but severed in two by Zeus, they were condemned to wander the world, each seeking his or her other half.
Some reviewers claimed that they couldn't hear the spoken passages which were made further incomprehensible by Guillem's accent. From my seat towards the rear of the stalls they were perfectly audible and clear. Côté's sound accompaniment includes some pieces of, mainly baroque, music and natural sounds, sometimes atmospheric, sometimes apt. When Maliphant moves across the stage slashing right and left with his sword we hear the sounds of men, horses and clashing steel; the background to war.
Lepage incarnates D'Éon towards the end of his life with the piled up hair, respectable matron's cap and hooped skirts of the engravings which show the Chevalier as a woman. The exhibition match held before the Prince Regent in 1787 when the 59 year old D'Éon in comprehensively defeated the most celebrated fencer of the time despite the encumbrance of his petticoats is depicted as a kind of circus turn.
The final scene shows D'Éon on the autopsy table. Gloved and gowned, the doctors open the body and peer between his legs before exiting silently leaving the corpse illuminated only by a single swinging lamp having revealed its last secret.
Eonnagata is likely to disappoint anyone looking for a continuance of the earlier collaborations between Guillem and Maliphant. But on its own terms it is a fascinating evening and never less than beautiful to look at, not least because of McQueen's wonderful costumes and Hull's magical lighting plot. A word of praise too for the stage management which copes with constantly sliding screens and stage furniture which appears, disappears and transforms endlessly.
Lepage is seemingly notorious for continuing to work on his productions after they premiere, so Eonnagata may look different at later performances. But then, shifting perceptions and changing views of reality are what this piece is all about.
Photo: Félix Dagenais
