The Learned Ladies
By Molière
Translated by Richard Wilbur
Irish Classical Theater
Buffalo, NY
April 24, 2008
www.irishclassicaltheater.com

Photo: Lawrence Rowswell

Are you an insufferable intellectual, prone to boring people to tears with questionable prose and other faults of an overly self-interested mind? Alas, a cure is at hand in the way of one polished production of Molière's The Learned Ladies, translated by Richard Wilbur and now playing at the Irish Classical Theater Company, Buffalo's flagship theater troupe. In our current atmosphere of heavy spin, pre-digested sound bites, and other assaults on the word, Molière's satire on academic pretension feels timely. Remember his attack was not on women's efforts to become intellectual equals of men, but on knowledge as a kind of fashionable currency.

The Learned Ladies takes us inside a bourgeois Parisian household overrun by a salon of women who easily swoon for sappy sonnets and other ecstatic pretenses of learning. The trouble begins when the non-intellectual daughter, Henriette, confesses her love for Clitandre to her philosophy loving-sister Armande, who was once courted by Clitandre. Armande tells her to marry philosophy, but the big problem emerges when Philaminte, Henriette's shrew of a mom, reveals she has already selected a mate for her unschooled daughter, Trissotin, her devoted tutor in all things learned. Henriette's hen-pecked father, Chrysale, sides with Henriette and a good tangle ensues.

The cast attacks this play with a brazen spirit. Robert Rutland plays Chrysale, the doormat of a hubby who finally stands his ground, with a keen sense of mania. We never know what he's going to do next. Josephine Hogan's gaze will melt anything in its path in her fiery portrayal of Philaminte, the domineering book-crazed mother. Diane Curley makes a level-headed Henriette, and Kate LoConti is suitably haughty as Armande. Kelli Bocock-Natale is hoot as Belise, Chrysale's loony sister, who secretly believes Clitandre is in love with her. Tim Newell swaggers in as Vadius, the new hot tutor on the block, with a cunning performance. Kelly Ferguson-Moore as Martine, the grammar-challenged maid, Kevin Zak as the obligatory hunchbacked servant and Doug Crane as the stoic no nonsense clerk each add distinct performances.

ICTC's Producing Director Fortunato Pezzimenti directs with an ear for high comedy, keeping the pace moving, the language flying and the satire humming. Ron Schwartz's stylish set provides just enough bling, dazzle and punch to conjure a Parisian salon. Kate E. Palamé’s costumes contain such whimsy as a pair of turquoise leggings, painted bows, and other zany flourishes. Brian Cavanagh's bright sunny lights amp up the over top feel of this production. All in all, the play feels as fresh as the warm-for-April Buffalo breeze just out the door. Should you be prone to dropping Nietzsche or Proust into your sentences to impress and annoy your less heady friends, expect a complete remission.

www.culturevulture.net
- Nancy Wozny

Moliere comedy gets superb treatment in hands of experts

by Ted Hadley, NEWS CONTRIBUTING REVIEWER

"The Femmes Savantes" is a 337-year old play by Jean Baptiste Poquelin, or more familiarly, "Moliere."

Translated as "The Learned Ladies," the story, written in verse, is still right on target when it comes to lampooning the human condition, warts and foibles, zeroing in on hypocrisy, greed, the arrogant, the affected and the pretentious.  Moliere's plays, "The Miser," "Tartuffe," "The Misanthrope," "The School for Wives," "The School for Husbands," among many, many others, are still performed regularly in some part of the world on any given night.  "Ladies" premiered in 1672 and is considered one of Moliere's masterpieces.

The Irish Classical Theatre Company just opened a revival of "the Learned Ladies."  Fortunato Pezzimenti directs a large and handsome, wigged and powdered cast, one populated with Moliere regulars: a pair of young lovers, a henpecked father, a sharp-tongued wife, a bogus pendant, an impudent but wise servant.  All meet - collide is more like it - in comic imbroglio.  There's comeuppance for the deserving; a happy, if hastily derived denouement for the rest.

Philaminte, the lady of the house, is a would-be intellectual and has recruited her older daughter, Armande, and her sister-in-law, Belise, in pursuit of the plagiarizing poet, Trissotin, an opportunist seeking the hand, dowry and more of younger daughter Henriette.  Philaminte and her cohorts fawn over Trissotin to the disgust of everyone else.  Nicholas Boileau, a Moliere contemporary, said it best about phonies like Trissotin:  "However big a fool, there is always a bigger fool to admire him."

Henriette will have none of Trissotin or the literary antics - she eschews the ethereal and seeks the material, she says - and is in love with the painting Clitandre.  But wait.  Philaminte thinks Trissotin would be a great match for Henriette.  This is where the trouble starts, of course, and it is much later, after several showdowns, a ruse and dad Chrysdale finally developing a backbone, that the pretend scholar is exposed and banished.  Whew!  Close call.  Everyone learns a lesson or two.

The Irish Classical Theatre excels at these vintage comedies.  The comings and goings of the cast of 12 - veterans, newcomers, returnees - are choreographed beautifully by director Pezzimenti.  The in-the-round Andrews Theatre stage never seems crowded.  Richard Wilbur's translation - delicious wordplay and clever rhymes, a cadence that, in truth, gets rushed periodically but nevertheless brings out the best of two languages - is a joy to the ear.  Moliere and Wilbur have made a great pair over the years.

Pezzimenti's cast - wonderful.  It includes former Studio Arena resident actor Robert Rutland, Irish Classical Theatre diva Josephine Hogan, Kate LoConti, Kelli Bocock-Natale, Richard Wesp as despicably oily Trissotin, Tim Newell, Kelly Ferguson-Moore, Kevin Zak, Doug Crane and the invaluable Christopher Standart - always at home in these centuries-old comedies - as well as fine new faces Diane Curley and Chris Corporandy.

Kate E. Palame designed the laudable costumes.  The classy, rich-looking set is by Ron Schwartz.

King Louis XIV of France was Moliere's benefactor and many times his defender against railings from the pulpit and the press.  The monarch allowed Moliere license.  Our belated thanks to "The Sun King."

‘The Learned Ladies’
The Buffalo Rocket
- Doug Smith

“Of plays in verse, we urge, be not afraidies…

“Take Irish Classic’s new ‘The Learned Ladies’;"
“The ticket price? You’ll say ‘I’m glad to pay dees."

“To skip it would be like a night in Hades.”

Rocket Man never said that writing in verse was a walk in the park. But Irish Classical Theater’s presentation of  “Learned Ladies” sure makes it seem like a snap. This “Lady” is a champ, a charming period love story appended by sharp satirical shots at artificial wisdom, all in rhyme that sneaks up from behind.

Consider the challenge. French playwright Moliere constructed this some 350 years ago – imagine, a backlash to “women’s lib” in the 17^th Century! It then fell to American playwright Richard Wilbur to translate it into something that not only made sense today, but rhymed. Okay, so “hear it” and “spirit” do crop up about once too often, but that’s really being picky.

Oh, and did Rocket Man mention the brevity? Well under two hours. Soul of wit.

Most everyone in “Learned Ladies’” is paired off. (Especially the women, thanks to Kate E. Palame’s cleavageland costuming.) One sister (Henriette) treasures philosophy, the other (Armande) prefers the home life. They’ve a cultural bully Mom and a peace-at-all-costs romantic father. Two suitors seek Henriette’s hand: the modest Clintandre and the self-absorbed fraud Trissotine himself paired off with Visotin, with a more ethical appreciation of literature.

Going solo are the deluded aunt who fashions herself the object of all men’s desire and the fetching maid Martine, who’d rather clean up her kitchen than her syntax.

Debates abound in “Learned Ladies.” Director Fortunato Pezzimenti positions and choreographs his cast in various angles to the all-around seating pattern and the rhyming leaves the multitude clinging to every word. Laughter, it seems, would almost break the spell. Multiple viewings, one for attention and one for guffawing, might help.

“Ladies” returns to the local stage two actors too long gone -- Richard Wesp as the profit-minded plagiarizing pedant, and Robert Rutland as the henpecked hubby, actually remasculating before our very eyes, the fury of Josephine Hogan notwithstanding. Lovely Diane Curley and spunky Kate LoConti spar as the rival daughters and Kelli Bocock-Natale fashions the addled aunt.

Lessons to be learned, too, from Tim Newell as the ethical scholar, Kelly Ferguson-Moore as the fiery, bodice-busting Martine and Kevin Zak as the unbalanced janitor. Charming enough, Chris Corporandy rather underplayed the successful swain and it was hard to make sense of the pasty makeup of the otherwise effective meddler Christopher Standart.

Theatre Review
"The Learned Ladies"
By Moliere  Translated by Richard Wilbur
The Irish Classical Theatre Company
by Willy Rogue Donaldson
NIGHT-LIFE MAGAZINE

This rich, poetic translation of Moliere by Wilbur captures the ear, as the costumes and make-up capture the eye, in this new production of "The Learned Ladies."

Chrysale is the head of the household in a rich Parisian household in the 1600's.  Life wasn't so different then, there was much to satirize in the behaviors of the day.

Moliere is mocking women who think they should be educated and "Philosophical," as in learned and loving of reason.  He expressed the common cultural (male) viewpoint that women should stick to minding the servants and keeping house, they were not equipped emotionally and intellectually for a deep understanding of poetry, philosophy, science, etc. He illustrates this with three women who dominate Chrysale's household and spend their days listening to the poesy of one Trissotin, a wit and poet whose flattery has won over Chrysale's wife Philaminte and two others of the household.  Their ecstatic exclamations over the subtleties of the most banal of lines shows them to be lacking in understanding and depth.  The scene is also hilarious, and kept women out of the Institutes of Higher Learning for centuries.  He contrasts them with  the virtuous, plain-spoken woman Henriette, who claims inferior gifts to evade having to participate in such foolish activities.

Henriette wants to marry Clitandre, and is supported in this by Chrysale, however, his wife Philaminte has decided Henriette must marry Trissotin.  Here Moliere mocks the men who are cowards before their wives, Chrysale is terrified of his wife, and all his vows and declarations of what shall be done in his household fade into whimpers when Philaminte gives him a withering glance.

Director Fortunato Pezzimenti has organized this cast of 12 and set them into a swirl of intrigue and conflict.  Chrysale is played by Robert Rutland, his friends and daughter Henriette try to prop up his courage so she can marry Clitnadre, but his bravery is a false front.  Rutland gives a skilled performance of this poor spineless fellow, and when you Philaminte, played by Josephine Hogan with iron determination, you can sympathize a bit.  The sly sister Ariste wants to disdain her cake and eat it too, this leads her to slander Henriette to her mother as insubordinate.  Kate LoConti gives her a fine two-faced reasonableness.

Henriette is played winningly by Diane Curley, her character uses a lot of irony to counter the admonishments of others.

Belise is played by Kelli Bocock-Natale in a wonderfully comic role.  Anytime someone talks about love for a different woman in front of her, she just assumes it's a subterfuge and the man is really talking about his love for Belise.  A wacky understanding of the universe, but one which lets her enjoy the romantic admiration of many without any messy entanglements.  Her innocence is only matched by her timing. 

Richard Wesp gets the extravagant part of Trissotin, Chris Corporandy plays the handsome young suitor Clitandre, Tim Newell plays the second poet Vadius and Kevin Zak makes the most of his posture as the servant Lepine.

Trissotin is played fey of course, and Wesp walks him sideways and bent-kneed, not a straight line in his approach.  Wesp's sweeping physical presentation is superb, and his make-up, designed as all were by Susan Drozd, was ominous.  Drozd puts little dots of red on the highest cheekbone, making the characters look a bit like marionettes, perhaps it reflects the style of the 17th century.   The dots on Wesp are darker and larger, making him look rather syphilitic.  Christopher Standart plays Ariste, the brother with sense and a solution.  With his wig and costume, he looks like Humpty Dumpty playing croquet with the Red Queen, but he's the one who encourages Clitandre and finds a way for him to win the hand of Henriette.

Moliere defined the humor and the plot, but Wilbur has provided the language for this play.  He stays in the background as a poet, but the rhymed couplets and scansion assert themselves even with the breaking of the lines for the drama.  And his vocabulary is wonderfully wide.

This richness could be lost, but Pezzimenti and the cast have worked hard on the enunciation and projection.  Simple basic things, but this play is utterly dependent on them being done to perfection; and you'll be as glad as I that they are.

Don't miss the Swoon of the Ladies Three, The Spat of the Spitting Poets, or the Tidings of the Financiers' Bankruptcy.  And enjoy the Great Harpsichord Suspensers by Tom Makar.