The Gospel at Colonus

100487 original

Ostensibly a reworking of Sophocles' tragedy Oeidipus at Colonus, this is Greek Tragedy with rarely-seen vitality. Lee Breuer and Bob Telson's production reconfigures the story of Oedipus' predestined death at Colonus as a Pentecostal sermon. It's an incredible match: where the call and response of traditional stagings of Greek drama can seem contrived to a modern audience, the outbursts from tonight's chorus are electric; where the language (American poet Robert Fitzgerald's 1940 translation) could seem circular and obtuse, here it fits precisely the stylised, rousing cadences of the preacher; where the reactions and responses of characters from an ancient system of morals can seem incomprehensible, here they are given human authenticity within a vibrant, living religious community.

Musically, the production is thrilling. In an inspired piece of casting, the Blind Boys of Alabama collectively play the blind Oedipus. It's a smart fit for the aged, wise, king of Thebes and the foursome perform with a moving fragility and dignity. The rest of the cast are no less impressive – in particular the Legendary Soul Stirrers as the Choragos, who make full use of their privileged position of commenting upon and interacting with the action. Working their way thorough a score of joyous soul, raw blues and ecstatic gospel, they haul the entire audience spontaneously to their feet on several occasions.

Since its first outing in the mid '80s, much debate has centered around whether or not this is a Christian retelling of the Oedipal myth. The quick answer is that it's not. Sure, some of the edges are bent to fit in with the Pentecostal setting—the preacher, for instance, reads from the "book of Oedipus"—but anyone sat trying to shoehorn Christian narratives into this production is, to put it politely, doing something very different to everyone else. For this is Greek tragedy through and through. When Oedipus dies, Sophocles tells us this is a joyous occasion, since that is as it has been foretold. It's counterintuitive for most modern belief systems – yet tonight's is one of the most ecstatic, affecting celebrations of a death as one is likely to experience. It's hard to see the point of doing Greek tragedy any other way.