The Mouse-Trap
A phantasm of Hamlet's only rehearsal with the urban tragedian of W. Shakespeare's play Hamlet
The Mouse-Trap
A phantasm of Hamlet's only rehearsal with the urban tragedian of W. Shakespeare's play Hamlet
Translation: Aleksandur Shurbanov
Set and costumes: Irena Dojcheva
Director and Producer: Boyan Kracholov
Photographer: Petur Nedyalkov
Composer: Yavor Milchev
Performers: Bozhidar Jordanov, Vladimir Mateev, Galya Kostadinova, Ivan Nikolov, Jordan Rusin, Simona Zdravkova
Set and costumes: Irena Dojcheva
Director and Producer: Boyan Kracholov
Photographer: Petur Nedyalkov
Composer: Yavor Milchev
Performers: Bozhidar Jordanov, Vladimir Mateev, Galya Kostadinova, Ivan Nikolov, Jordan Rusin, Simona Zdravkova
Translation: Alexander Shurbanov
Set design and costumes: Irena Doicheva
Director: Boyan Kracholov
Photographer: Petar Nedyalkov
Actors: Bozhidar Yordanov, Vladimir Mateev, Galya Kostadinova, Ivan Nikolov, Jordan Rusin, Simona Zdravkova
Our Hamlet is a boy, painfully sensitive, like a naked tooth, thrown out there somewhere in maddening Denmark, where his father's spirit wanders and seeks revenge, where thunders and cheers rise as his uncle tries to drown his sin in feasts. where his mother tosses her mourning clothes to the bed of her new husband, the same Denmark that they rotted to death and in which everything seems to be buried. And he just wants to be elsewhere, just not to be there, just not to be him. And this is probably the enormous conflict in Hamlet - he seems to be Shakespeare's most intuitive, most enlightened character, most beyond the limitations of the text, and at the same time most impossible to leave.
But here is where the city's tragedians arrive - several actors well known to the prince. He probably had a rehearsal with them to give them the new text. And he may have been drawn into it. Maybe while he was rehearsing with these wanderers, he was momentarily flashed by something other than himself, some unknown trait of his, something he might have been had it not been for everything if he hadn't been this one who has to put a century in order. He might have escaped the damn Denmark for a moment, just before it crashed on him.
It is this rehearsal that is the object of our performance. Rehearsal as a special territory where you can, in which you are allowed to reside outside of time. As a place where you can be whole again. As one of the last fragments of the Garden of Eden.
And at the same time - like a trap that can snap behind you at any moment.
Like a mousetrap.
"It seems to me that there is nothing better than feeling like you are working in a theater where you are a fighter among fighters. And how difficult it is to keep that feeling for long ... "
("Rehearsal, My Love" - Anatoly Efros)
Set design and costumes: Irena Doicheva
Director: Boyan Kracholov
Photographer: Petar Nedyalkov
Actors: Bozhidar Yordanov, Vladimir Mateev, Galya Kostadinova, Ivan Nikolov, Jordan Rusin, Simona Zdravkova
Our Hamlet is a boy, painfully sensitive, like a naked tooth, thrown out there somewhere in maddening Denmark, where his father's spirit wanders and seeks revenge, where thunders and cheers rise as his uncle tries to drown his sin in feasts. where his mother tosses her mourning clothes to the bed of her new husband, the same Denmark that they rotted to death and in which everything seems to be buried. And he just wants to be elsewhere, just not to be there, just not to be him. And this is probably the enormous conflict in Hamlet - he seems to be Shakespeare's most intuitive, most enlightened character, most beyond the limitations of the text, and at the same time most impossible to leave.
But here is where the city's tragedians arrive - several actors well known to the prince. He probably had a rehearsal with them to give them the new text. And he may have been drawn into it. Maybe while he was rehearsing with these wanderers, he was momentarily flashed by something other than himself, some unknown trait of his, something he might have been had it not been for everything if he hadn't been this one who has to put a century in order. He might have escaped the damn Denmark for a moment, just before it crashed on him.
It is this rehearsal that is the object of our performance. Rehearsal as a special territory where you can, in which you are allowed to reside outside of time. As a place where you can be whole again. As one of the last fragments of the Garden of Eden.
And at the same time - like a trap that can snap behind you at any moment.
Like a mousetrap.
"It seems to me that there is nothing better than feeling like you are working in a theater where you are a fighter among fighters. And how difficult it is to keep that feeling for long ... "
("Rehearsal, My Love" - Anatoly Efros)
02 / 943 38 90
14.00 - 19.00 ч.
почивен ден - неделя
14.00 - 19.00 ч.
почивен ден - неделя