By Sara Freeman
This article tells the tale of several pieces of scholarship that had a deep impact upon our show, in the spirit of demonstrating the richness theatre history and historiography incorporate into a show process.
Reviewed by Will Harrington
Many of the problems associated with being Polish in relation to other countries should not be out of place for those wondering what it means to be American, British, Australian, or any of the other English-speaking nations this fresh translation hopes to target.
Welcome to the Fall 2015 issue of The Mercurian. The contents of this issue represent the results of a number of ongoing relationships and collaborations related to theatrical translation that I have engaged in over the past few years.
By Shu Matsui
Translated by Kyoko Yosida and Andy Bragen
Proud Son is about a young man who has chosen to isolate himself from the world, a familiar phenomenon in contemporary Japan known as hikikomori.
By Oliver Mayer
Adaptation of Federico García Lorcas Bodas de sangre
The Groom is unknowingly doing the dirty work yet again for the conglomerate, thinking that he is satisfying his blood lust and honor when he is actually doing business for the cartel.
By Saverio La Ruina
Translated by Thomas Haskell Simpson
I don’t understand, we had such a nice evening, you seemed happy… What’s the matter?
By Alejandro Ricaño
Translated by Daniel Jáquez
Ricaño belongs to the generation of writers – not only in Mexico but in all of Latin America – considered to be the cohort that brought the word back to the center of the drama on the stage. These are theatre makers who write, direct and act in their own creations.
We begin this issue with Daniel Smith and Valentina Denzel’s adaptation and translation of the eighteenth century Italian playwright Carlo Gozzi’s The Serpent Lady.
By Carlo Gozzi
Translated by Daniel Smith and Valentina Denzel
The Serpent Lady tells the story of Cherestani, the Fairy Queen, and her mortal husband Farruscad. They must overcome numerous magical obstacles in order to be together.
By Bernhard Studlar
Translated by Henning Bochert
One hundred ‘apps’ (like the numbers in Greenaway’s film) throughout the play lead from nowhere to nowhere (but not to anyone being drowned), there are no characters doing anything, and no meaning coagulates around any plot. Even the narrator disappears, and all that remains – as the playwright points out in his preface – is text.
The Mercurian 