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RTÉ News
3 hours ago
- Entertainment
- RTÉ News
A fox by design, a hedgehog by nature: the tension at the heart of Brian Friel's enduring appeal
As the Gate Theatre's acclaimed revival of Brian Friel's play Dancing At Lughnasa returns to Dublin's 3Olympia this July, Thomas Conway explores the enduring appeal of the Donegal playwright's work. 'a fox knows many things but a hedgehog knows one big thing' - Archilochus Brian Friel may have aspired to the condition of the fox, always experimenting, always pitching in new directions, always breaking the rules. But he seemed equally inclined towards that of the hedgehog, circling the same obsessions around memory and imagination, around what is perceived and what is actual, around the treacheries involved in shoring up our identities on images of the past that are so little to be trusted. His remarkable output of twenty-four original plays and eight adaptations are distinguished for their stylistic variety and restless innovation, and yet they are also unified by recurring obsessions and motifs. In what does Friel's signature abide? Noting his attention to language as the vehicle for drama gets us some of the way there. We hear Friel testify to this absolute commitment to language at the darkest moment of his struggle with the composition of Translations, as recorded in his journal: '…the play has to do with language and only language. …if it becomes overwhelmed by the political element it is lost.' The redundancy of language seduces Friel too, to judge by so many of his plays, Dancing at Lughnasa among them, that go beyond language in their final moments: 'Dancing as if language no longer existed because words were no longer necessary.' Also with Friel, the musical and rhythmical aspects matter more in the structuring than more expected qualities such as plot. As such, while he takes on political themes and public issues, he exercises a primary concern with qualities of language and style, with musical shape, with expressing the inner ebb and flow of thought and emotion. Friel's obsessive return to the fraught boundaries between memory and imagination, between remembering things as they were and as we wish them to have been, between recording the past and making things up, is exemplified in his reliance on the allegorical setting of Ballybeg for many of his most enduring dramas. Ballybeg is itself recognisably a place in history and a realm of the imagination. How do we reckon with the fact that fourteen of Friel's plays have Ballybeg (or Baile Beag, as he called it in Irish) as a setting or key point of reference? We need only dig a little deeper to see correspondences between his two most enduring plays set in Ballybeg for evidence of Friel's wider obsessions: Philadelphia, Here I Come! and Dancing at Lughnasa, plays written twenty-five years apart, yet seemingly built on a shared bedrock of memory and myth. Why else does Friel insist on a day's outing in a little blue rowing boat on a remote uplands lake near Ballybeg for both plays? Gar remembers fishing with his father from such a boat in Philadelphia, Here I Come! Rose gives an account of a tryst with Danny Bradley in a boat of the same description in Dancing at Lughnasa. Why else does Friel give Gar (from the earlier play) and Michael (from the later play) four childless Mundy aunts? Why does he retain the names of Agnes and Rose for two of those aunts? Memory's betrayals can only be explored, it seems, by means of such a common stock of images and their correspondences; here we see Friel delve into aspects of his own family history and its mythologies. The Mundy sisters, we are told, are modelled on his aunts, and the tensions between fathers and sons explored across so many of the plays reflects aspects of a strained relationship between Friel and his own headmaster father. What partly distinguishes Friel's work, then, is the attention to the deeply personal that ultimately yields a view on the wholly universal: Friel works from his own particular historical co-ordinates and perspectives with such linguistic dexterity and scrupulous honesty that it resonates with everyone's experience. This quest to state things precisely on his own terms also explains one of Friel's more idiosyncratic features. Friel's plays are distinguished by the softening he exerts on their edges only to draw an audience into the hardest of human truths. (For many Irish playwrights, the trajectory is so often the reverse, a spiky exterior hides a sentimental core.) Friel seems to work in a whimsical register initially, only to ensnare us with a devastating consequence, one that knocks us off balance and leaves us re-evaluating the pattern we thought was unfolding. Such moments not only reveal character in a new light; the actions leading up to the reversal need to be rethought. These elusive endings invite us not merely to contemplate the future but to question everything that has gone before. The plays thus begin again in the mind of the audience the moment the curtain descends on the stage. (This may owe something to Friel's experience as a teacher: as the best teachers do, he leads us by simple steps steadily and stealthily to ever more complex perspectives on a shared dilemma. By the time the audience gains a purchase on the complexity at the heart of the action it feels itself hovering in mid-air, where language is both self-sufficient and no longer serves; it is caught in a moment of suspension that precedes a fall from innocence into experience.) Friel's risk-taking is never more apparent than in the theatrical conceits with which he launches the action—the theatrical sleights of hand that sets the language itself in motion. In Philadelphia, Here I Come! a central character is shadowed by an alter ego; the audience are privileged to hear what Gar alone hears from that private self; the audience also, however, looks Gar's alter ego in the eye, something that Gar never manages to do. In Translations a community speaks Irish but the audience hears English; this community can neither comprehend nor be comprehended by the colonists who seek to govern their lives, but they can by the discerning audience. In Dancing at Lughnasa, a child is addressed by his aunts but this child is never embodied by a child-actor—rather, the child's dialogue is spoken by the adult narrator without conceding in any way to a child's vocal mannerisms. This attention to language is matched by Friel's scrupulous tracking of psychological movements in the characters. These conceits are Friel's self-imposed challenges that he meets head-on in the act of composition; the playing out of the logic of these conceits oftentimes gives the plays their dynamism and shape. They are Friel's stylistic responses to the one constant in the worlds he depicts: the reticence and social constraints on language to which the plays bear witness. Nobody in Friel's world is able to speak her or his mind to another character; however, somehow, by these sleights of hand, the audience are vouchsafed these confidences. What a shock it is, then, to discover that Gar's father as likely has his own alter ego shouting into his ear, keeping him awake, shaking his resolve, and his own bank of memories in which he once had a loving connection with his son. Who would have guessed that 'old Screwballs' has his own inner voice goading him to speak and sabotaging his feeble attempts? The actions are invariably positioned within seismic societal change—where one way of life is being overtaken by another. It is here the plays find their characteristic tone or atmosphere. The central characters are seldom defiant or resigned, but wistful and conflicted about finding themselves unable to take sides. They neither oppose change nor promote it outright; they neither defend themselves against change nor look to guide it or others through it. In Translations, Hugh concedes to teach Maire English only to reveal the quisling he has proven to be. In Dancing at Lughnasa Michael tells us that he finds his missing aunts when it is too late to intervene on their behalf. In Philadelphia, Here I Come! Gar fails to decide why he is leaving, but he knows he must leave. These proxies for Friel often presume to cast a backward glance at changes that may yet still be in train. They look to language as a means to get above these changes and to survey them whole, even as they are part of the flux; they discover in language an inadequacy that never quite gets these changes into proper focus. These characters find in language both their single best resource and something that fails them. Dramatic form, as Friel would reveal, is better than all other literary forms for speaking not only through but around language, to its strengths and its incapacities; drama needs words, the very best words, but it also abandons them. Friel achieves a near impossible balancing act between these two conditions in ways that testify to the utmost care he brought to the labour of writing. This attention to language is matched by Friel's scrupulous tracking of psychological movements in the characters. Here we frequently see a pattern whereby a character's taciturnity and brooding silences are broken by sudden outbursts of zeal and articulacy that are then of no consequence and resolve again into brooding silence. These outbursts are absorbed into some greater historical movement and disappear. The march of history is given a location and a form precisely in Friel's mapping of the failures of the individual to make any distinctive mark against it. How is it that Friel should achieve a vantage point where he can see from above whilst being in the midst of the change himself? It seems that whatever the style the fox in him chooses to exploit, the hedgehog in him re-encounters the tidal force of history pulling him into its current. The fox's freedom and the hedgehog's servitude are always at odds, always held in tension, always yielding to new forms developing around obsessive constants. Even in that journal he wrote during the composition of Translations we hear the conflict play out in neither's favour. The fox pulls him in one direction: 'The play must concern itself only with the dark and private places of individual souls.' The hedgehog pulls him in the other: 'But it is a political play—how can that be avoided?' Maybe it is the abundance of forms and styles within something so recognisably Friel's that accounts for the exhilaration we experience in each encounter with his plays. However uneasy and provisional is each balancing act, some measure of what we all need to survive in the face of change is somehow to be found in, and indeed, around these plays.
Irish Times
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Nessa Barrett in Dublin review: A star on the rise in need of time to find her voice
Nessa Barrett 3Olympia Theatre, Dublin ★★★☆☆ TikTok has changed how music is packaged and hyped, and now it is producing its own stars. One of the more prominent is Nessa Barrett, a 22-year-old New Jersey singer who achieved online celebrity as a teenager by lip-syncing to her favourite songs on the ubiquitous video-sharing platform. She has parlayed that fame into a budding pop career that has already won her a cult fan base. They are out in force on the first of two concerts at 3Olympia – a few having forked out a serious wedge for deluxe ticket packages ('the Aftercare Soundcheck Experience' for her gig in Glasgow later in the week will cost north of €200, plus the usual modest Ticketmaster add-ons). But if the performance confirms Barrett as a star on the rise – and that her fans are willing to dig deep for the privilege of seeing her – it also suggests that she is an artist making her way and yet to step outside the shadows of her influences. Those influences run the A-Z of 'Sad girl' pop – a genre characterised by its melancholic vibes and introspective lyrics (dominated by themes of teenage heartache). Arriving wearing a champagne-pink dress and holding a guitar, she kicks off with the Dirty Little Secret, a dreamlike power-ballad fuelled by darkly diaristic lyrics ('We don't have to be in love/Let's keep it discreet, sneaking out the backdoor'). READ MORE Barrett cuts a slight figure and speaks softly as she stands atop an elevated box, behind which a drummer, keyboardist and guitarist are arranged. But if unprepossessing between songs, her music is full of stormy intensity. Alas, it also has the quality of a playlist of some of Generation Z's starriest names. The spirit of Lana Del Rey haunts Heartbreak In The Hamptons, down to the preppy title and gauzy melody. Similarly, Billie Eilish fans are sure to appreciate Edward Scissorhands, fuelled by Barrett's cooed vocals and baroque imagery ('There's darkness in your eyes/The saddest boy I've ever seen)'. Barrett has been praised for speaking frankly about her mental health issues and, last year, went on to TikTok to describe the stress that online negativity had caused her. It is a reminder of how young pop stars are too often regarded as public property – to be ridiculed and ripped apart for sport. One way of putting their haters in their place is to write peerless pop. That is what Barrett archives with her strongest tunes. S.L.U.T. and P*rnstar are Nine Inch Nails-esque onslaughts that draw on her struggles to overcome emotional repression ('Sexuality was always associated with something negative for me,' she explained in a recent interview). Best of all is the glam piledriver Dying on the Inside, which features one of those perfectly cascading choruses where one line flows into the other. It is, as the experts would say, a 'banger'. The takeaway from tonight's enjoyable but uneven gig is that Barrett needs more songs of equivalent quality if she is to shed the 'internet famous' tag and transcend her origin story as a TikTok novelty act. She has the musical talent and the aura essential to all great pop stars. All going well, the music industry will give her space to grow on her own terms rather than rushing to monetise her while she is still finding her voice. Nessa Barrett plays 3Olympia Theatre , Dublin, again tonight, May 27th
Dublin Live
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Dublin Live
Little Mix star JADE announces Dublin headline gig at 3Olympia ahead of new album
Singer JADE has announced a headline Dublin gig at the 3Olympia later this year. The Little Mix star, whose new album "THAT'S SHOWBIZ BABY!" is out on September 12, will be coming to Dublin on October 8. The tour matches the name of the album, with collaborators including Mike Sabath, Lostboy, Cirkut, RAYE and Pablo Bowma. JADE said: "This album has been years in the making, so I'm beyond excited that I can finally let everyone know when it's coming out. I'm very proud of 'THAT'S SHOWBIZ BABY!' as a body of work and can't wait to share it with the world. To be able to perform the album live later this year is also a dream come true. See you all on tour!" JADE's hit song "Angel of my Dreams" has been buzzing on the airwaves. The track has accumulated over 100 million streams to date and the accompanying video was a No.1 YouTube trending video for 10 days and has had 12 million views. Tickets for JADE's show at Dublin's 3Olympia will go on sale Friday May 23 at 10AM from Ticketmaster. Tickets are from €37.65 to €45.70 including booking fee. Join our Dublin Live breaking news service on WhatsApp. Click this link to receive your daily dose of Dublin Live content. We also treat our community members to special offers, promotions, and adverts from us and our partners. If you don't like our community, you can check out any time you like. If you're curious, you can read our Privacy Notice. For all the latest news from Dublin and surrounding areas visit our homepage.
Extra.ie
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Extra.ie
Gate Theatre to bring classic show to 3Olympia this summer
Brian Friel's classic play Dancing at Lughnasa is set to have a run at the 3Olympia Theatre from June 27 to July 26. Produced by the Gate Theatre, which previously staged the show in a sold-out run last year, the revival marks the first time a Gate show has been presented on the 3Olympia stage in 35 years, since Sean OCasey's Juno and the Paycock in 1990. 'We are thrilled to rekindle our historic relationship with the Olympia Theatre', said Gate Theatre Executive Director Colm O'Callaghan. 'Our strategic vision is that of an 'Open Gate' where everyone has access to great theatre, and playing to 3Olympias summer audiences is a great way to help us realise this and to expand our audience.' O'Callaghan also added: 'Collaborating with 3Olympia also means that our own stage is available to deliver on other key strategic goals such as premiering contemporary international plays.' The critically acclaimed production will be once again directed by Caroline Byrne, and features a cast including Lauren Farrell, Peter Gowen, and Pauline Hutton. Set in 1936 in the fictional Donegal town of Ballybeg, Dancing at Lughnasa follows the lives of the five Mundy sisters. The play originally premiered in 1990 at the Abbey Theatre and has since become one of Friels most celebrated plays. Considered one of the greatest Irish playwrights of all time, Friel's body of work also includes other classics such as Translations , Philadelphia Here I Come! , and Faith Healer . Tickets for Dancing at Lughnasa are on sale now and can be found here.
Extra.ie
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Extra.ie
Brendan Gleeson to star in The Weir for his first theatre performance in 10 years
Brendan Gleeson is set to return to the stage for the first time in a decade in a production of The Weir at the 3Olympia. The play, written and for the first time directed by Conor McPherson, will run from August 8 to September 6. It will then appear in London's Harold Pinter theatre from September 12 to December 6, marking Gleeson's West End debut. 'The last time I appeared on stage was 10 years ago, at the Olympia Theatre in Dublin, where I started my career,' Gleeson said. 'I can't wait to be back there, and then to play in the West End for the first time, at the beautiful Pinter Theatre.' Though perhaps better known for his career in film, with roles in The Banshees of Inisherin , In Bruges and more, the Irish actor began his acting work in theatre. Gleeson last appeared on the theatre stage in 2015, performing alongside his sons Domhnall and Brian in The Walworth Farce , also at the 3Olympia. McPherson's The Weir was written in 1997, set in a rural Irish pub as the regulars share stories with a newly arrived woman from Dublin. It won an Olivier Award for the best new play following its premiere. 'I can hardly believe it's been 30 years since I wrote The Weir and about 30 years since I first met the wonderful Brendan Gleeson,' McPherson said. 'It's an absolute honour to bring this play to life again with one of the greatest titans of Irish acting.' Tickets for the 3Olympia run go on sale Saturday, May 3.
