Take a small town, any small town; now take an Irish small town. Now add the socio-political and cultural complexities unique to the Border counties of Ireland and observe the daily confusions of a society which finds itself inhabiting a linguistically-textured limbo which does not really belong to the South yet is not exactly fully in tune with the North either. It is Ireland but it is also Everywhere - and anywhere. This is exactly what Monaghan writer and artistic director of Upstate Theatre Project, Declan Gorman, has done in Hades, his highly perceptive and multi-layered comic tragedy which has been revived by Upstate and opened in Belfast last night at the start of a month-long tour of the very places which inspire and form its writing.
More than 30 characters, including an ostrich, played again by the original cast of five, combine to create a sense of the daily ordeal of making sense of existence as it takes place in an invented Southern border town called Ballinascaul. Joe, a melancholic, widower taxi driver, is raising his rebellious teenage daughter on his own. It is tough going. Still, his various problems haven't blinded him to the sufferings of others, he has remained kind and caring. Adrian Cronin, school principal and smug pillar of the community, married to a former pupil, is having an affair and knows his mother-in-law despises him.
Meanwhile his wife, bullied daughter and depressive, is trying to salvage something of her real self - should she ever manage to find it. Widely expected to replace the dying bishop, the local priest who fathered a son years before who may or not still be still living, seems more interested in golf and pop music than promotion. George Patterson loyal to Orangeism all his life, is now having doubts about the rituals he was born into, and Nickie Nixon, drunken vagrant and tormented Everyman, is engaged in his own mythically-directed journey to Hell. Civilisation may be collapsing but good old Bridgie Fitz continues cycling to Mass regardless of whether or not a harmless "aul cod" belonging to a Republican clan and allegedly murdered years before is still floating in the polluted local lake.
Gorman, who is hoping to bring the production to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival later this year, agrees that timing is all important in this heavily choreographed, imagined play written in sharp, short scenes. "The key to making it work is the fluidity of the scene changes," he says. An intense, edgy individual, Gorman's demeanour contrasts with the wealth of comedy undercutting a play which draws in equal measures from cinema and German modernism. As a director he is steered by a strong visual sense, he allows his actors to discuss and contribute, and words aren't wasted - either on stage or in the rehearsal room. But there are no absolutes either. Several ambiguities conspire to inform rather than confuse the audience. Watching it, it is impossible to overlook the ease with which the performers literally walk in and out of the various characters; the images could be Otto Dix, the tone could be that of Kurt Weil. Certainly, this is an Irish play but it is equally, strongly European. Various theatrical devices are used with imagination in what is a strictly minimalist, fast moving production.
Actress Sinead Douglas, whose grasp of the subtle nuances of the region's rich vocal variations enables her to move with ease between the seven parts, including that of a town councillor, a wayward girl, a Republican activist, a knowing chambermaid and an ageing cyclist, refers to the way a gesture initially helps a performer "put shape" on a character. "It's all very physical and movements and gestures help a lot. I suppose we're working from the outside in." In devising the staging of Hades, Gorman worked with choreographer Carina McGrail.
There is a break in rehearsal and it comes as a surprise to discover that two of the cast, John Hickey and Ciaran Kenny are, in fact, Dubliners. Sinead Douglas, in common with Gorman, is from Monaghan. Hickey and Kenny both defer to young Arron Monaghan, a native of Cavan town, whose vocal range can convincingly bring him in the space of a sentence from that of a young Belfast Sinn Fein press officer to a sceptical Dublin journalist investigating small town life. Referring to the two younger cast members - Monaghan and another Sinead, Sinead Flynn from Kilmessan, outside Navan, whose parts include Judy, taxi driver Joe's disgruntled daughter and Stephanie Cronin, - "both Arron and Sinead came to us through youth theatre projects in Cavan town and Navan", says Gorman, and it is this conscious decision to draw on the variety of Irish experience which drives his approach to theatre. He has written and performed one-man shows and speaks about the way entire narratives are created "purely by a particular turn of phrase."
His theatre career began when he arrived at Trinity College Dublin as a mature student, "having worked in car factories in Germany", where he eventually ended up teaching English. His plan was to study English and German, which he did though he left without taking a degree. There he met writer, and theatre and film director, Joe O'Byrne, and later they founded Co-Motion Theatre Company. Initially Gorman was an actor, favouring comedy. Moving on to the City Arts Centre in 1990, where he stayed for five years, he concentrated on producing and developing new work. He became particularly active in community drama. "That's where I got used to writing for large casts." One such community effort was Connected (1997) written in collaboration with "seven young farmers" for the Macra Arts Group in Monaghan. Gorman also translated The Weavers, based on the 1844 revolt of exploited Silesian weavers, written by the pioneering German realist Gerhart Hauptmann, the 1912 Nobel laureate, revered by James Joyce who also translated him, and who at one time was hailed alongside Ibsen and Chekhov. Transferring the action to Ireland, Gorman directed the production, which also marked the Drogheda-based Upstate's debut in 1997.
Gorman's inspiration is interesting; German literature, including Doblin, and theatre in particular. "I love the telegraphic language and the weirdness of the imagery." Another major source is Greek mythology and parallels abound in the play, most specifically through the character of Nickie Nixon who sees Ballinascaul as a "Town of Shadows. Hades. Long past its heydays" and himself as a modern day Ixion. For Stephanie, who suffers from winter depression and is the daughter of a bossy horticulturist, read Persephone and Ceres/Demeter.
Throughout his life Gorman has known the counties of Monaghan, Cavan, Louth and Fermanagh. "Even now I have to work hard to understand the specifics of places like Cork and Tipperary. I have far more in common with people from Enniskillen than I do with Munster. Munster is still a mystery to me," he announces with a hint of defeat. His father had worked for the Department of Agriculture as an inspector of farm buildings, "but he was always known as `the Grants Man' and I know that what I have inherited from my upbringing is this ear for a turn of phrase."
Every part of Ireland has its own particular idiolect, but nowhere matches the cultural variety that is enjoyed in the North East, where various traditions and cultures meet - and clash. Throughout Hades Gorman catches these variations, an extremely fluid language which has fascinated him for years. It is no coincidence that his first plays, including Journey (1987) were written for radio. Mention Eugene McCabe's quiet masterpiece Death and Nightingales (1992) with its feel for the multi-cultural textures of Border speech, and Gorman's taut face lights up. Much of the sense of cultural difference in Hades is decided by matters of syntax. The placing of a word can reveal a tribal origin; a phrase express an attitude, indeed, at times, creates a character. It is as simple as that.
It's a year this week since Gorman sat down to write it. Adamant he is "not particularly political, or at least, less than I was, though of course I've always been cynical about politics and politicians" he had looked to last year's Good Friday Agreement with hope. "I started to write it with that in view but, as we all know, things didn't work out as well as we'd hoped." First performed in Drogheda last Halloween, Hades now returns on the anniversary of that beleagured agreement. Probably it is precisely because it is not politically campaigning, the play makes more sense of Ireland's cultural complexities than most literary work, never mind many commentaries.
So, one year on, how does he see the play? "It has elements of Dundalk and Monaghan, and shadows of Drogheda and Cavan," Gorman says and pauses before firmly deciding, "It is closer to Dundalk and Monaghan."
Hades runs at the Old Museum Arts Centre, Belfast until April 1st. It tours to the Town Hall, Cavan (18th and 19th), Garage Theatre Monaghan (20th, 21st), Canal Stores, Clones (22nd), Lisdoonan Community Centre, Monaghan (26th), Lisnaskea, Co Fermanagh (27th), The Playhouse, Derry (28th), Raphoe, Co Donegal (29th), Newtowncunningham, Co Donegal (30th), Community Hall, Navan (May 4th), Droichead Arts Centre, Drogheda (May 7th, 8th).
