Mrs. Martin-Mary Bacon
Mr. Martin- Greg Jackson
Mrs. Smith- Kelly McAndrew
Mr. Smith- Matthew Floyd-Miller
New York Times
By NAOMI SIEGEL
Published: August 19, 2007
Whatever’s going on over at the Shakespeare Theater of
New Jersey, it’s surely not business as usual. During one hour and 15 minutes of discombobulating mayhem, a clock strikes 17, and Mrs. Smith, one-half of the excruciatingly domestic couple occupying the stage, announces the time as 9. The Martins, a second, even odder couple, arrive as total strangers to each other, only to discover the “bizarre and curious coincidence” that they both live on the same street, in the same house, sleep in the same bed, and — here’s the kicker — have nurtured the same child.
Mary, a maid with attitude, breaks down the metaphorical fourth wall and addresses the audience directly. The doorbell rings twice, and no one is there when the door is opened; on the third ring, however, a fire chief arrives and proceeds to tell a series of convoluted shaggy dog stories.
Then there is the moment of epiphany, when the chief mentions the bald soprano, and Mrs. Smith assures all concerned that the lady “always wears her hair in the same style.”
This must be theater of the absurd, with Eugene Ionesco’s masterpiece “The Bald Soprano” front and center. There’s no choice but to grab a seat on this roller coaster of non sequiturs and hang on for the ride of your life.
“The Bald Soprano” first appeared in 1950 when it opened before three brave souls at the Théâtre des Noctambules in Paris. The response was generally negative, and the play closed shortly after. Seven years later, following a huge surge of interest and critical acclaim, it reopened at the Théâtre de la Huchette, where it continues, to this day, to set records for longevity.
The decision by Bonnie J. Monte, the Shakespeare Theater’s artistic director, to present this classic was not without peril. The work challenges its audience to find meaning in meaninglessness, relevance in a stiflingly prim, upside-down world. Language is twisted and fragmented and deprived of its power to communicate, reflecting the writer’s horror at the emptiness of much verbal interchange. For listeners, however, this very exercise runs the risk of creating its own ennui.
Matthew Arbour, as director, has refused to be cowed by the challenge. He has crafted a vibrant, funny, highly stylized theater piece, never ignoring the author’s explicit directives while using them as jumping-off points in the search for creative dramatic solutions.
His cast of six makes for a seamless ensemble. Matthew Floyd Miller and Kelly McAndrew as the acidly congenial, near-robotic Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Greg Jackson and Mary Bacon as the desperate to please Mr. and Mrs. Martin, exploit their characters’ clueless opacity with perfect comic timing. Angela Pierce is no one’s fool as the tart, know-it-all Mary. In the role of the Fire Chief, Walker Jones, without missing a beat, gets to tell the longest short story in the annals of the theater.
The raw-wood packing crate of Mimi Lien, the set designer, which opens seductively to reveal a rose-themed, claustrophobically patterned English cottage in the suburbs of London, is a marvel of stage mechanics. As lighted by Tyler Micoleau and framing the stylish costumes of Erin Murphy, this picture-perfect abode nearly screams of dysfunction.
“The Bald Soprano,” through Aug. 26, at the Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey, 36 Madison Avenue, Madison (on the campus of Drew University). Information: shakespearenj.org or (973) 408-5600.
2)
City Garage Theatre; Santa Monica, California
November 9, 2007 – March 2, 2008
Directed by Frédérique Michel
Production Design by Charles A. Duncombe
Mr. Smith: Jeff Atik
Mrs. Smith: David E. Frank
Mrs. Martin: Cynthia Mance
Fire Chief: Maximiliano Molina
Mary: Alisha Nichols
Mr. Martin: Bo Roberts
Review:
LA WEEKLY - GO!
Monday, November 12, 2007
By Paul Birchall
GO! THE BALD SOPRANO by Eugene Ionesco
Eugene Ionesco’s brilliant absurdist farce unfolds in a universe dislodged from logic and even common sense. Yet, even in this bizarre world, a good laugh is still a good laugh, thanks to director Frederique Michel’s assured staging that comes marbled in cool irony. A middle-aged couple, Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Jeff Atik and David E. Frank in drag), relaxes in a suburban living room not far from Paris, after having had a delicious dinner. Mrs. Smith rhapsodizes about the meal, while her genial hubby replies in incomprehensible grunts and gurgles. Suddenly, the Smiths’ friends, Mrs. and Mr. Martin (Cynthia Mance and Bo Roberts), show up on the doorstep — and soon the characters are squawking, babbling and ejaculating random bits of nonsense. Are they a pair of typical suburban couples? Or barking animals at the zoo? It’s best to simply roll with Ionesco’s wonderfully random and playfully chaotic plot, which Michel sets with impeccable comic timing. The performers rattle off the non sequiturs with glee and gusto — at times the piece resembles a long Monty Python sketch. Frank’s turn as Mrs. Smith is particularly droll — he plays the character as a frumpy suburban matron, but with buggy, lunatic eyes. Atik’s harrumphing hubby and Mance’s seriously deranged Mrs. Martin are vivid, multidimensional characters. CITY GARAGE, 1340½ Fourth St. (alley), Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 5:30 p.m.; thru Dec 16. (310) 319-9939.
http://www.citygarage.org/ionesco4.html
3)
Atlantic Theater Co., 336 W. 20th St. (8/9th Aves) New York, NY
9/01/04 to 10/17/04
Directed by Carl Forsman
Set Design: Loy Arcenas
Costume Design: Theresa Squire
Lighting Design: Josh Bradford
Sound Design: Obediah Eaves
Actors: John Ellison Conlee, Michael Countryman, Seana Kofoed, Maggie Lacey, Jan Maxwell, Robert Stanton
Review:
A CurtainUp Review
The Bald Soprano & The Lesson
By: Elyse Sommer 2004
Good grief, it's nine o'clock. We've eaten our soup, fish, buttered potato jackets and British salad. The children have drunk British water. We stuffed ourselves this evening. All because we live in the outskirts of London and because our name is Smith. ---Mrs. Smith in The Bald Soprano
Though the clock has struck seventeen times, it is indeed nine o'clock when Mrs. Smith (Jan Maxwell) begins to natter away as she darns some socks and her husband (Michael Countryman) remains hidden behind his newspaper. Mrs. Smith's chatter ranges from the menu served at a recent dinner party to a doctor who "never prescribes medication he has hasn't tried on himself first" and considers yogurt "excellent for the stomach, the kidneys, appendicitis and apotheosis". The British being devotees of all things floral, set designer Loy Arcenas has upped the Smiths' British-ness by splashing their living room wall with a rose-patterned wall paper hung with painted flower-filled vases . When Mr. Smith finally lowers his newspaper, what amounts to a platitudinous monologue disintegrates into nonsensical non sequiturs masquerading as sensible dialogue. Eugene Ionesco's deconstruction of language as a trustworthy communications tool, La Cantatrice Chauve, has become the Paris equivalent of The Mousetrap for the Theatre de la Huchette where it's been playing for half a decade. Known to English speaking audiences as The Bald Soprano, this was this father of absurdism's first play, or as he preferred to call it, "anti-play." Fifty-year-old plays invariably invite new translations. The latest take on The Bald Soprano, along with another one-acter, The Lesson, comes from Tina Howe. Ms. Howe has taken some liberties, but remains true enough to the originals to make us see people struggling unsuccessfully to use language to make sense of a senseless universe. Carl Forsman has directed the newly translated pair for maximum humor which, in the first play especially, had the audience at the Atlantic Theater respond with appreciative laughter to scenes like the Smiths' priceless exchange about a group of people, all called Bobby Watson. Entertaining, as both plays are, neither is a home run. Why? First, except for his indestructible work like Rhinoceros, Ionesco's avant-garde edge has been somewhat preempted by the very writers he influenced, including pop media absurdists. Secondly, Mr. Forsman's more soft than hard-edged interpretation overplays the Soprano's drawing room comedy aspects and underplays the sinister quality of The Lesson. Consequently, while this is an amusing evening worth seeing, it lacks the brilliance that carried Simon McBurney's 1998 revival of The Chairs to Broadway for the first time in thirty years. The double bill is blessed with an outstanding cast, all of whom manage to shed their proper British decorum for occasional manic outbursts. Jan Maxwell is terrific as the fluttery Mrs. Smith, and Michael Countryman displays the right degree of grumpiness as her husband. Seana Kofoed and Robert Stanton are a perfect match as the visiting Mr. and Mrs. Martin, who initially seem to be strangers and eventually prove to be interchangeable with the Smiths. John Ellison Conlee adds considerably to the banal quirkiness of this get-together of people who can't connect to themselves, let alone each other. His fireman, like everyone else, is frustrated, in this case by the dirth of fires to put out. (The Captain's "There's nothing out there, just chicken feed -- a chimney here, a barn there. Nothing big. It doesn't bring anything in. Because there's no yield, the profits on returns are negligible." leads Mr. Smith to responds with " It's the same everywhere. Business, agriculture. . . It's like your fires this year, nothing's happening."). Maggie Lacey is delightful as the Maid and the Fire Captain's love interestIn The Lesson, another Maggie, Maggie Kiley, is amusing as the hapless student who can only absorb knowledge by rote. Steven Skybell plays the professor whose frustration becomes threatening with a Groucho Marx-like broadness that lingers even during the descend into darkness. The Lesson is more or less a tag-along to round out the evening, and somehow is neither as funny or as dark as it seems intended to be. As the Smiths and the Martins and the Professor and Student make less and less sense, it does make sense to ignore the above mentioned flaws and see this nimble cast in this stylishly staged production. Don't wait too long though. This is not a fifty-plus year run shades of La Cantatrice Chauve at the Theatre de la Huchette.
4)
I think that this director paid special attention to the fact that it is an English family and made sure to stay true to that form of comedy and to the language of the play.
Cubiculo, 414 West 51st Street. New York, NY
1987
Directed by Joseph Chaikin
Associate Director: Nancy Gabor
Set Design: Watoku Ueno
Lights Design: Beverly Emmons
Costumes Design: Mary Brecht
Dramaturg: Bill Coco;
Production Stage Manager: T. J. Carroll
Stage Manager: Lillian Butler
Mrs. Smith: Jayne Haynes
Mr: Smith: John Turturr
Mary: Yolande Bavan
Mrs. Martin: Judith Cohen
Mr. Martin: Sam Tsoutsouvas
Fire Chief: Geoffrey C. Ewing
STAGE: 'THE BALD SOPRANO'
By MEL GUSSOW Published: June 12, 1987, Friday
LEAD: THE revival of ''The Bald Soprano'' at the Cubiculo is a doubly significant event. It represents one of Joseph Chaikin's most extensive involvements in theater since his stroke, and it is a rare opportunity to see a first-quality Eugene Ionesco production in New York. Though there was a period when his work was readily available,
THE revival of ''The Bald Soprano'' at the Cubiculo is a doubly significant event. It represents one of Joseph Chaikin's most extensive involvements in theater since his stroke, and it is a rare opportunity to see a first-quality Eugene Ionesco production in New York. Though there was a period when his work was readily available, Ionesco productions have become increasingly sparse, at least in this city.
''The Bald Soprano,'' preceded by ''The Leader'' as a curtain-raiser, was Ionesco's first work of theater (presented in 1950 in Paris) and became the foundation of his career. Along with its continuing relevance, the play has been exceedingly influential on other writers. Watching it in Mr. Chaikin's articulate new production, one cannot help but be aware of comedies by Edward Albee, Tom Stoppard and others that followed it and drew upon Ionesco as a comic tutor. They are all surrealists as well as absurdists under the skin.
In ''The Bald Soprano,'' which the author labels ''an anti-play,'' he assails the craze for conformity that he found ingrained in our society. As he made clear, the play is intended not as a satire on bourgeois English life, but as a play about language and ''a parody of human behavior and therefore a parody of theater, too.'' It is also, the author said, ''a completely unserious play.'' In that respect, Ionesco was, of course, being ingenuous.
Though the surface is light spirited, the play has a cosmic awareness of how man debases - and defeats -himself, often through his choice of words. The play has not aged. One might even suggest that we have caught up with ''The Bald Soprano,'' living, as we do, in a computerized world where information is byte-sized and news becomes photogenic.
The author's instrument is English domestic comedy, as a married couple named Smith invite a married couple named Martin to dinner, which is never served. The play begins with small talk and ends in babble, and one is not very different from the other. As translated by Donald M. Allen, Ionesco has an intuitive grasp of the natural contradictions that infiltrate our conversation. Everyone says one thing and may mean the opposite.
In Ionesco land, the clock strikes 17, a knock at the door does not mean that a visitor has arrived and a man and a woman, through a process of illogical deduction, are forced to conclude that they are actually husband and wife. Despite the familiarity of the play, ''The Bald Soprano'' holds surprises, some of which arrive in performance.
Following the author's prescription, Mr. Chaikin (in collaboration with his associate director, Nancy Gabor) approaches this ''tragedy of language'' straight, with intensity. The acting is more serious than one customarily finds in Ionesco, but the play is no less funny.
As the Smiths, John Turturro and Jayne Haynes are ever so properly British. Aloof and glowering, Mr. Turturro convincingly assumes an English accent and manner. He could be a cousin of John Cleese's Basil Fawlty. One expects him to explode, and, at intervals, Mr. Turturro delivers as promised, listening to his wife's dire monologue and then responding with a brief tantrum. In contrast, Ms. Haynes is chipper, never losing her aplomb even as her words are misinterpreted.
Sam Tsoutsouvas's Mr. Martin is the ultimate in suaveness. He could be a character out of Oscar Wilde, while his down-to-earth wife (Judith Cohen) might have strayed on stage from a Joe Orton comedy. Short and round, she sits in the higher of two adjacent chairs; her feet never touch the ground. Soon the dialogue of the two couples intermingle, only to be interrupted by an assertive maid (Yolande Bavan) and a fire chief (Geoffrey C. Ewing).
Why a fire chief? One could say that the household is metaphorically aflame, or that the fireman is both a figure of authority and a figure of fun. In any case, the six-way roundelay accrues diversions and distortions until everything is topsy-turvy - and the Martins begin the play again, sitting in for the Smiths. The setting is spare, the costumes (by Mary Brecht) are specific and the actors spin through non sequitors as if they are commonsensical.
Before ''The Bald Soprano'' begins, theatergoers stand to watch ''The Leader,'' a brief sketch about the adulation of an unseen hero who, when he appears, turns out to be headless (and, of course, brainless). Although it is a bit too long to wait for the single sight gag, ''The Leader'' does succeed in putting one in an anticipatory Ionesco mood. The comic payoff comes with ''The Bald Soprano.'' One would hope that the production would encourage a renewal of interest in other work by this 20th-century innovator. Anti-Conformity THE BALD SOPRANO and THE LEADER, by Eugene Ionesco, translated by Donald M. Allen; directed by Joseph Chaikin; associate director, Nancy Gabor; sets by Watoku Ueno; lights, Beverly Emmons; costumes, Mary Brecht; sound designer for ''The Leader,'' Gary Harris; dramaturg, Bill Coco; production stage manager, T. J. Carroll; stage manager, Lillian Butler. Presented by The Open Space Theater Experiment, Lynn Michaels, artistic director. At the Cubiculo, 414 West 51st Street.
5)
The set of this particular show is to say the least striking. It takes an interesting look at the house and made it a more experimental set then trying to put the Smiths in a living environment like much of the other productions.
EVERYMAN PALACE THEATRE, Cork, Ireland
FEBRUARY 26 – MARCH 2, 2007
THE BALD SOPRANO is directed by Niall Henry
Set and Costume Design by Jean Connelly
Light Design by Barry McKinney / Michael Cummins
sound and video design by Joseph Hunt
CAST – Patrick Curley, Ruth Lehane, Niall Henry, Sandra O’ Malley, Kellie Hughes, John Carty.
Review:
Anonymous Blog on "The Scene" website
Blue Raincoat take their shows on the road
Blue Raincoat Theatre Company is about to embark on a national spring tour of venues throughout Ireland where the Company will present The Bald Soprano by Eugene Ionesco and Malcolm Hamilton's A Brief Taste of Lightning.
Both plays have been produced before by Blue Raincoat to critical acclaim and the Irish tour throughout February and March will allow audiences from as far afield as Cork, Navan, Waterford and Monaghan to sample the work of Blue Raincoat Theatre Company.
The Bald Soprano and A Brief Taste of Lightning are amongst a number of productions in the Blue Raincoat Theatre Company's touring repertoire.
Blue Raincoat's commitment to the development of that repertoire has allowed the Company to tour a number of productions throughout Ireland and abroad in recent years. Most recently Blue Raincoat travelled to Spain where the Company performed Malcolm Hamilton's The Strange Voyage of Donald Crowhurst at the renowned Muestra de Teatro Theatre Festival in Avila.
The Bald Soprano was performed at The Factory Performance Space in 2005 before it went on to tour Ireland. Described by one critic as "wildly funny" the 2007 production is currently in rehearsal and will play the Belltable in Limerick, The Everyman Palace Theatre in Cork and The Garter Lane Arts Centre in Waterford during late January and March.
New faces for this production of The Bald Soprano are actors Patrick Curley and Ruth Lehane both of whom will revel in their roles as the Fireman and Mrs Martin in a show of absurd humour that wickedly satirises the emptiness of life lived by habit, with some genuinely hilarious moments.
A Brief Taste of Lightning featuring Sandra O Malley and John Carty will tour to Longford, Castlebar, Navan, Monaghan, Portlaoise and Roscommon Town during March. The play presents a fascinating meditation on memory, love and modern life. It was last produced in 2004 and described as "mesmerising" and a show where the acting was "achingly good."
The already high standard of both these plays is the direct benefit of Blue Raincoat Theatre Company's development of a touring repertoire. That standard of excellence is sure to be enhanced further in these new productions. Full details of the Spring 2007 tour schedule are available from Blue Raincoat on 071-9170431 or at
http://www.blueraincoat.com/.
http://www.scene.ie/issue90/arts_news.shtml
Pictures From Other Productions:
What is Absurdism?:
The origins of the Theatre of the Absurd are rooted in the avant-garde experiments in art of the 1920s and 1930s. At the same time, it was undoubtedly strongly influenced by the traumatic experience of the horrors of the Second World War, which showed the total impermanence of any values, shook the validity of any conventions and highlighted the precariousness of human life and its fundamental meaninglessness and arbitrariness. The trauma of living from 1945 under threat of nuclear annihilation also seems to have been an important factor in the rise of the new theatre. As a result, absurd plays assumed a highly unusual, innovative form, directly aiming to startle the viewer, shaking him out of this comfortable, conventional life of everyday concerns. In the meaningless and Godless post-Second-World-War world, it was no longer possible to keep using such traditional art forms and standards that had ceased being convincing and lost their validity. The Theatre of the Absurd openly rebelled against conventional theatre. Indeed, it was anti-theatre. It was surreal, illogical, conflictless and plotless. The dialogue seemed total gobbledygook. Not unexpectedly, the Theatre of the Absurd first met with incomprehension and rejection.
One of the most important aspects of absurd drama was its distrust of language as a means of communication. Language had become a vehicle of conventionalised, stereotyped, meaningless exchanges. Words failed to express the essence of human experience, not being able to penetrate beyond its surface. The Theatre of the Absurd constituted first and foremost an onslaught on language, showing it as a very unreliable and insufficient tool of communication. Absurd drama uses conventionalised speech, clichés, slogans and technical jargon, which is distorts, parodies and breaks down. By ridiculing conventionalised and stereotyped speech patterns, the Theatre of the Absurd tries to make people aware of the possibility of going beyond everyday speech conventions and communicating more authentically. Conventionalised speech acts as a barrier between ourselves and what the world is really about: in order to come into direct contact with natural reality, it is necessary to discredit and discard the false crutches of conventionalised language. Objects are much more important than language in absurd theatre: what happens transcends what is being said about it. It is the hidden, implied meaning of words that assume primary importance in absurd theatre, over an above what is being actually said. The Theatre of the Absurd strove to communicate an undissolved totality of perception - hence it had to go beyond language.
The term “Theatre of the Absurd” was coined by
Martin Esslin in his 1962 book by that title. In The Theatre of the Absurd, Esslin states, “The Theatre of the Absurd has renounced arguing about the absurdity of the human condition; it merely presents it in being—that is, in terms of concrete stage images. This is the difference between the approach of the philosopher and that of the poet.” He goes on to say that “The hallmark of this attitude is its sense that the certitudes and unshakable basic assumptions of former ages have been swept away, that they have been tested and found wanting, that they have been discredited as cheap and somewhat childish illusions.” Some common characteristics of absurdist plays include this general existential philosophy coupled with a rejection of narrative continuity and the rigidity of logic, as well as (and perhaps most importantly) a radical devaluation of language which is seen as a futile attempt to communicate the impossible. The general effect is often a nightmare or dreamlike atmosphere in which the protagonist is overwhelmed by the chaotic or irrational nature of his environment. Most absurdists also doggedly resist the traditional separation of farce and tragedy, intermixing the two at will, creating an unpredictable world that mirrors our own, in which the poignantly tragic may come upon the heels of the absurdly funny, or vice versa.
(
http://www.theatrehistory.com/misc/theatre_of_the_absurd.html)
The Theatre of the Absurd (
French: "Le Théâtre de l'Absurde") is a designation for particular
plays written by a number of primarily European
playwrights in the late 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s, as well as to the style of theatre which has evolved from their work.
The term was coined by the critic
Martin Esslin, who made it the title of a book on the subject first published in 1961 and in two later revised editions; the third and final edition appeared in 2004, in paperback with a new foreword by the author. In the first edition of The Theatre of the Absurd, Esslin saw the work of these playwrights as giving artistic articulation to
Albert Camus' philosophy that life is inherently without meaning as illustrated in his work
The Myth of Sisyphus. Though the term is applied to a wide range of plays, some characteristics coincide in many of the plays: broad comedy, often similar to Vaudeville, mixed with horrific or tragic images; characters caught in hopeless situations forced to do repetitive or meaningless actions; dialogue full of clichés, wordplay, and nonsense; plots that are cyclical or absurdly expansive; either a parody or dismissal of realism and the concept of the "well-made play". In the first (1961) edition, Esslin presented the four defining playwrights of the movement as
Samuel Beckett,
Arthur Adamov,
Eugene Ionesco, and
Jean Genet, and in subsequent editions he added a fifth playwright,
Harold Pinter—although each of these writers has unique preoccupations and techniques that go beyond the term "absurd."
[1][2] Other writers whom Esslin associated with this group include
Tom Stoppard,
Friedrich Dürrenmatt,
Fernando Arrabal,
Edward Albee, and
Jean Tardieu.
[1][2]
Although the Theatre of the Absurd is often traced back to avant-garde experiments of the 1920s and 1930s, its roots, in actuality, date back much further. Absurd elements first made their appearance shortly after the rise of Greek drama, in the wild humor and buffoonery of Old Comedy and the plays of
Aristophanes in particular. They were further developed in the late classical period by Lucian, Petronius and Apuleius, in Menippean satire, a tradition of carnivalistic literature, depicting “a world upside down.” The morality plays of the Middle Ages may be considered a precursor to the Theatre of the Absurd, depicting everyman-type characters dealing with allegorical and sometimes existential problems. This tradition would carry over into the Baroque allegorical drama of Elizabethan times, when dramatists such as
John Webster, Cyril Tourneur, Jakob Biederman and
Calderon would depict the world in mythological archetypes. During the nineteenth century, absurd elements may be noted in certain plays by
Ibsen and, more obviously,
Strindberg, but the acknowledged predecessor of what would come to be called the Theatre of the Absurd is
Alfred Jarry's "monstrous puppet-play" Ubu Roi (1896) which presents a mythical, grotesque figure, set amidst a world of archetypal images. Ubu Roi is a caricature, a terrifying image of the animal nature of man and his cruelty. In the 1920s and 1930s, the surrealists expanded on Jarry’s experiments, basing much of their artistic theory on the teachings of Freud and his emphasis on the role of the subconscious mind which they acknowledged as a great, positive healing force. Their intention was to do away with art as a mere imitation of surface reality, instead demanding that it should be more real than reality and deal with essences rather than appearances. The Theatre of the Absurd was also anticipated in the dream novels of James Joyce and Franz Kafka who created archetypes by delving into their own subconscious and exploring the universal, collective significance of their own private obsessions. Silent film and comedy, as well as the tradition of verbal nonsense in the early sound films of Laurel and Hardy, W.C. Fields, and the Marx Brothers would also contribute to the development of the Theatre of the Absurd, as did the verbal "nonsense" of François Rabelais, Lewis Carroll, Edward Lear, and Christian Morgernstern. But it would take a catastrophic world event to actually bring about the birth of the new movement.
Theater of the Absurd came about as a reaction to World War II. It took the basis of existential philosophy and combined it with dramatic elements to create a style of theatre which presented a world which can not be logically explained, life is in one word, ABSURD!
Needless to say, this genre of theatre took quite some time to catch on because it used techniques that seemed to be illogical to the theatre world. The plots often deviated from the more traditional episodic structure, and seem to move in a circle, ending the same way it began. The scenery was often unrecognizable, and to make matters worse, the dialogue never seemed to make any sense.
