“I wondered whether music might not be the unique example of what might have been — if the invention of language, the formation of words, the analysis of ideas had not intervened — the means of communication between souls.”
From In Search Of Lost Time, Vol. 5: The Captive & The Fugitive (1913-27) by Marcel Proust.
Happy days 2014
Vladimir (Christian Mazzuchini) and Estragon (Noël Vergès) in Waiting for Godot
Walking down Church Street on the island into the Hollow, the harsh light of morning on the first day of the Beckett festival, the sight of actor Adrian Dunbar leading a funeral cortège, the pallbearers wearing theatrical make-up, the director of Catastrophe summoning the revenants, in Fintan O’Toole's phrase, that inhabit Beckett’s work, to roam, was striking. In the remains of the day later by way of contrast the sounds of Stockhausen in the tenebral repose of St Michael’s church summoned spectral imagery of a different kind.
Next day there was an almost vaudevillian air to the tender French language production from Theatre NoNo of Waiting for Godot at the Ardhowen theatre. But the heavens opened as we sat in the auditorium, and back in the town later water coursed down the streets to the river for the rest of Friday night as the Gavin Bryars ensemble, Yurodny, and the Crash Ensemble joined forces to perform Bryars’ ‘Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet’ at the opening concert.
Adrian Dunbar on the opening morning leading the cortège
The festival was affected a little by poor weather conditions during the first weekend with Roaratorio: An Irish Circus on Finnegans Wake particularly suffering. Inside, though in the snugs of Blake's, safely back on the island, the Finnegans reading (the connection between Joyce and Beckett a significant logical strand this year) warm and dry.
Tractors on the anti-fracking run from Belcoo thundered around the town causing traffic gridlock for a while on Sunday, a welcome piece of noise. As the protesters made their point Terry Eagleton gave a talk at the South West College, the famous Marxist literary critic, speaking on the subject of political Beckett. A questioner in the audience wondered if Eagleton could comment on Catastrophe, a big draw at the festival this year. With its overtly political context and dedication to Václav Havel this was a good question but Eagleton said he couldn't remember the play. The small reminder later on exiting the venue was provided by the white bus containing the audience on the way to the secret location for Catastrophe thundering past, destination unknown.
The Catastrophe audience on the way to the secret location
Monday dawned bright and beautiful, and it was an early start at the Ardhowen theatre for Words and Music, a 1961 piece initially written for radio with music by Morton Feldman performed by the Crash Ensemble, Adrian Dunbar and the great Belfast actor Ian McElhinney sat with their backs to us, the piece cloaked in mystery, the pair lost in translation the music the only amanuensis interpreting through the densest of aural fogs.
Klaus Maria Brandauer as Krapp
Krapp’s Last Tape in German later in the week with the first appearance on an Irish stage by the formidable screen actor Klaus Maria Brandauer was funny and skilled, his stagecraft with the banana and tape, eternal symbols of the play, and mastery of silences, so powerful.
The permanent installation by Joseph Kosuthbased on Texts for Nothing near the town's castle
On the final Saturday and Sunday, Radio 3’s The Essay recorded some programmes introduced by Marie-Louise Muir for broadcast in September, with, among the speakers, actor Lisa Dwan talking interestingly about performing Not I, while writer Fintan O’Toole delivered a talk on the themes of mortality and death in Beckett’s work. Like Eagleton, O’Toole made the point that Beckett was not a nihilist, and certainly celebration of Beckett as a writer aware of the human condition in all its universality was the overwhelming impression to come away with from this quite extraordinary festival.