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I kiss your hand (and other Polish delusions of the '30s)
Idiopathic's "Ivona' at the Fringe Festival
Witold Gombrowicz (1904-1969) may be one of the most famous people who are unknown to the general public. Milan Kundera ranked the late Polish writer with Joyce and Proust as a seminal figure in modern literature. John Updike called him "one of the profoundest of late moderns."
His works, though, are rarely performed in America. Philadelphia is fortunate to have had two productions this season of Gombrowicz's 1938 comedy, Ivona, Princess of Burgundia. Swarthmore College staged it last spring, as reported by BSR's Merilyn Jackson. Then Idiopathic Ridiculopathy produced it during the recent Philadelphia Fringe Festival.
Gombrowicz skewered the established societal and governmental norms, and especially the aristocratic conservatism of Polish culture, which called for men to bow and kiss ladies' hands in greeting, even up through the 1930s.
Ivona concerns a fatuous and amoral ruling family saddled with archaic customs. The handsome Prince Philip, intrigued by a silent and awkward young woman, seeks to marry her. His relatives can't decide whether to be amused or outraged, and when the girl refuses to conform to their mincing manners, they decide to kill the woman. Even the prince joins in the murder plot; the only debate is about what method to use.
Polish gridlock
The playwright's satire was indirect, because few monarchies were left in Europe when he wrote Ivona; his Polish homeland was governed after World War I by an elected president and legislature. But the government was so sharply divided between right wing and socialist factions that gridlock ensued.
Like many another government hoping to distract its citizens from its internal problems, Poland tried to throw its weight around internationally, demanding some of Czechoslovakia's territory just when Nazi Germany was making similar demands. Instead of defending their democratic-republican neighbor, Poland's leaders joined in the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia. They smugly congratulated themselves when the Munich appeasement conference of 1938 awarded Poland one per cent of Czech territory.
Gay writer's insight
In that time of paranoia, many Poles vented their frustrations on the largest group of "others" in their midst: Poland's Jews. Gombrowicz, who was gay, was especially sensitive to bigotry against designated "others." He wrote this fairy-tale parable about how a self-important royal court dealt with its fears.
Robb Hutter as King Ignatius and Susan Giddings as Queen Margaret were excellent as clueless rulers who assume that they are totally certain. David Stanger was marvelous as the haughty prince. He drew us in with relative tolerance and independence, then revealed the officious sense of entitlement that had been bred in him.
Heather Cole made an appealing Ivona, the plain girl who struck the ruling class as downright ugly. Tina Brock's strong direction kept the entire cast in character throughout the script's absurdist twists and turns. This production's gorgeous costumes (by Erica Hoeschler) spring from the Marie Antoinette era, with tall wigs festooned with toilet paper rolls.♦
To read another comment about Ivona by Merilyn Jackson, click here.
His works, though, are rarely performed in America. Philadelphia is fortunate to have had two productions this season of Gombrowicz's 1938 comedy, Ivona, Princess of Burgundia. Swarthmore College staged it last spring, as reported by BSR's Merilyn Jackson. Then Idiopathic Ridiculopathy produced it during the recent Philadelphia Fringe Festival.
Gombrowicz skewered the established societal and governmental norms, and especially the aristocratic conservatism of Polish culture, which called for men to bow and kiss ladies' hands in greeting, even up through the 1930s.
Ivona concerns a fatuous and amoral ruling family saddled with archaic customs. The handsome Prince Philip, intrigued by a silent and awkward young woman, seeks to marry her. His relatives can't decide whether to be amused or outraged, and when the girl refuses to conform to their mincing manners, they decide to kill the woman. Even the prince joins in the murder plot; the only debate is about what method to use.
Polish gridlock
The playwright's satire was indirect, because few monarchies were left in Europe when he wrote Ivona; his Polish homeland was governed after World War I by an elected president and legislature. But the government was so sharply divided between right wing and socialist factions that gridlock ensued.
Like many another government hoping to distract its citizens from its internal problems, Poland tried to throw its weight around internationally, demanding some of Czechoslovakia's territory just when Nazi Germany was making similar demands. Instead of defending their democratic-republican neighbor, Poland's leaders joined in the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia. They smugly congratulated themselves when the Munich appeasement conference of 1938 awarded Poland one per cent of Czech territory.
Gay writer's insight
In that time of paranoia, many Poles vented their frustrations on the largest group of "others" in their midst: Poland's Jews. Gombrowicz, who was gay, was especially sensitive to bigotry against designated "others." He wrote this fairy-tale parable about how a self-important royal court dealt with its fears.
Robb Hutter as King Ignatius and Susan Giddings as Queen Margaret were excellent as clueless rulers who assume that they are totally certain. David Stanger was marvelous as the haughty prince. He drew us in with relative tolerance and independence, then revealed the officious sense of entitlement that had been bred in him.
Heather Cole made an appealing Ivona, the plain girl who struck the ruling class as downright ugly. Tina Brock's strong direction kept the entire cast in character throughout the script's absurdist twists and turns. This production's gorgeous costumes (by Erica Hoeschler) spring from the Marie Antoinette era, with tall wigs festooned with toilet paper rolls.♦
To read another comment about Ivona by Merilyn Jackson, click here.
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