Medea is the earliest of Euripides’ surviving tragedies, having been first produced
at Athens in 431 bce. It reflects the ‘unities’ of classic Greek drama: the action
proceeds in a single location and in ‘real time’, avoiding sub-plots or other diversions
from a densely compressed narrative. The play centres on the tale of a sorcerer-princess
from a remote barbarian land whose murderous and ruthless conduct profoundly challenges
the social and moral conventions of the city-states of Greece. During little more
than an hour on stage, the actor playing Medea is required to demonstrate an extraordinary
range of emotions as this grand-daughter of the Sun God takes revenge upon the all-too-mortal
unfaithfulness of Jason. But his character too offers complexity, especially as
he strives to convince us that his new marriage to a princess of Corinth is the wisest
way in which to reduce the perils of exile and thus to defend the interests both
of Medea and of the children that she has borne him. Like Jason, both Kreon and
Aigeus are also depicted as struggling to frame prudent responses to the challenge
of Medea as an alien and supernatural force. The first of these kings makes a literally
fatal underestimation of her destructive power: ‘One more day is yours. Too little
time, I’m sure, to work the spells I dread.’ As for Aigeus, it is the promise of
a magical cure for his childlessness which tempts him into guaranteeing upon oath
that, regardless of Medea’s crimes, she will escape punishment and enjoy refuge even
within the very city of the drama’s first audience. Among the other notable achievements
of the play is Euripides’ decision to give to a mere servant of Jason one of the
most remarkable passages in ancient Athenian drama – one that constitutes virtually
a play within a play. Nor should we overlook the pivotal role accorded to the Chorus
of Corinthian Women, whose commentary is made to shift so constantly and subtly between
empathy and dispassion.
Our Fringe production of this masterpiece has certain distinctive features. Members
of the company have been working both with masks and with puppets. We have also
added to the Euripidean text a brief modern prologue outlining what the first hearers
of the play would have known already of the Medean myth up to the point when the
stage-action itself begins. Moreover, in seeking to segregate our audience by gender,
we have aimed at highlighting a tension between male and female perceptions that
is far from being a twenty-first century distortion of this drama. Rather, such
difference of view was something that formed a fundamental feature of Medea from
the outset. No clear evidence survives of women being permitted even to attend Greek
tragedy of this era, let alone being allowed to overthrow the male monopoly of acting
roles. Despite this, Euripides had courage enough to place in the mouths of his
pseudo-female Chorus the observation that, ‘If women had a voice...we’d sing of men’s
outrageousness.’ Such a sentiment illustrates the fact that, nearly two and half
millennia ago, he crafted in Medea a drama which was not only deeply horrific but
sharply subversive too.
M Biddiss
THE CAST
MEDEA Princess of Kolchis Barbara Rayner
JASON Prince of Iolkos Richard Hames
KREON King of Corinth James Willis
AIGEUS King of Athens Morris Hopkins
NURSE Catherine Gerlach
TUTOR Penny Cushing
SERVANT Lesley Willis
CHORUS OF CORINTHIAN WOMEN
Chris Chappell • Louise Dilloway • Matilda Ferry-Swainson
Jo Foulkes • Allyson Hall
• Alison de Ledesma
Heather Rimington • Ann Scott • Kathryn Shaw
DIRECTOR Tim Guilding
The Fringe is using a translation by Frederic Raphael and Kenneth McLeish which is
available from Nick Hern Books.
It is preceded by a Prologue specially written and presented for this production
by Mike Biddiss.
