Inside Out and Upside Down
Catherine Hébert
Voir, Montreal, Thursday, March 28, 2002

Caption: Élizaviéta Bam is pure craziness, and Théâtre la Chapelle takes on the aura of a playground.

A gust of madness is blowing through Théâtre la Chapelle with the presentation of Élizaviéta Bam, an absurd work by the Russian writer Daniil Ivanovitch Iouvatchov (known as Harms) directed by Oleg Kisseliov, a Montrealer of Russian origin. These two profoundly original creative artists fled, some 50 years apart, a Russia that they found suffocating, with one escaping to the beyond (dead at age 36 in a psychiatric institution) and the other immigrating to Canada. Kisseliov’s incursion into the troubled thoughts of Élizaviéta Bam is pleasantly disconcerting – pure craziness in fact.

Written in 1927, the play (enriched by some of the author’s other writings) plunges the audience into the universe of a young woman whose home is besieged by threatening characters, symbols of the repressive power of the Russian totalitarian regime. It is hard to know whether the gang of nasties attacking her is real or the product of her troubled imagination. Nevertheless, a discomforting uneasiness takes hold. This tragedy of language is fortunately alleviated by several humorous elements such as comical props (kitchen gloves, scissors, oars, prosthetic arms) and Dadaist phrases such as “my legs are like cucumbers.”

With Élizaviéta Bam, Oleg Kisseliov has taken a big step forward. His “creative impulse” method, which places the actor at the heart of the performance, combined with the buffoon approach of Diving Horse Creations, is perfectly wedded to this intense, ironic and ambiguous script. The director has opted for a transformable set (which he himself designed) that is manoeuvred and reshaped between scenes. Whenever the lights come back on, the rearrangement of the component elements proves to be a surprise, as though the spectator had changed his viewing angle. It’s quite astonishing.

To this ingenuity is added virtuoso acting. Gaétan Nadeau and Phoebe Greenberg play a couple that could have served as a model for David Lynch, he (especially excellent) a neurotic father and she a loud and scolding Mamacha, while Alexis Roy and Jocelyn Caron portray very convincing villains. Warren “Slim” Williams shows up unexpectedly like a ghost who sings (in English) disturbing, monotonous chants. Wearing a transparent night dress and later a wedding dress (costumes are by Louis Hudon), Caroline Binet is a fragile and genuine Élizaviéta. The lighting by David Perreault Ninacs adds to the impression of a nightmare that this collective madness conveys.

With this piece, Théâtre la Chapelle has taken on the aura of a playground for artists who want to kick up their heels. This topsy-turvy world, where things are inside out and upside down, is much like a breeze announcing the arrival of spring, bringing us back to life.

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