The Ugly Duckling

The Theatre of Cruelty presented The Ugly Duckling as an allegory over the poet’s own life. H. C. Andersen, the son of a cobbler, had to go through an eternal series of challenges to break out of poverty. As a world famous poet he was allowed to visit royal castles and mansions. The experience of having left one world for never to be fully accepted in another was a continuous source of humiliation, but it also gave life to many of his stories.

The fairy tale described a merciless society dismissing or destroying everything ugly or different. The ensemble focused on the anxiety a human being experiences when being the one chosen to be inflicted pain upon. Sequences from the fairy tale were entangled with episodes from Andersen’s own life: His dreams, travels, inspirations and sufferings. The poet is the duckling burning his way through the prejudices of his surroundings, shaming them with the light he casts over the world.

The Theatre of Cruelty sought to create an organic expression anchored in the body’s own musicality. Through an imaginative, contrast-filled scenic language a non-realistic, poetic and metaphysical world was created. Director Lars Øyno chose an expression in which the fairy tales and the children’s language ruled. With over-dimensioned masks and costumes, shadow play and games a magical world was conjured, comical and brutal.

The Theatre of Cruelty directs thanks to: Peter Schumann, The Bread and Puppet Theatre Company, Fretex Elevator, Aud Marit Sollid.

The Ugly Duckling by The Theatre of Cruelty was supported by Arts Council Norway and The Fund for Performing Artists.

Source:

Performing Arts Hub Norway, 16.08.2010, http://www.danseogteatersentrum.no/sck/members.shtml?lang=nor&sam=&cat=&gen=&cou=&cri=grusomhetens%20teater&aid=117&prid=7&act=prod

The production program.

Therese Bjørneboe, Europeisk forfallshistorie (literally: European history of decline), 14.11.2006, Klassekampen [Oslo]:

"The production [...] rather has the characteristics of a queer cabaret with The Ugly Duckling as its leitmotif. [...] As in several of Lars Øyno's productions, parades where the actors gestalt a (bourgeois) collective are to be prominent. Here, not least the acts characterised as "the mansion scene" and "the duck scene" are meant to impress. [...] costumes and masks have a touch of Disney or pop cultural aesthetics [...] But even though this production at its best captures the frail or fragile, as well as the poetic and simultaneously morally indignant of H. C. Andersen, Lars Øyno is unable to fully stage the situations with the diversity he aspires for. Øyno so strongly puts his trust in the expressive power of the gestures or tableaus, that he again and again allows them to last longer than they can handle."

Elisabeth Leinslie. (2006, 13.11). Subversive Social Commentary. Dagsavisen [Oslo, Norway]:

"It feels like being taken decades back into the past, to a basement stage of the post-war years where tragicomic musical theatre is played, surrounded by an alchemist universe.....Øyno’s direction is rigorous and dramaturgically strict – something that is essential for a theatre relying on physicality and fragmentation to communicate with its audience. The actors do a marvelous job." 

Henning Gärtner. (2006, 17.11). Mumbling ecstasy. Morgenbladet [Oslo, Norway]:

"To someone unfamiliar with it, Øyno’s style might seem artificial. Grusomhetens Teater is indeed neither fashionable nor “cool”. Their cosmology is marked by neither post-modern irony nor references to the contemporary pop culture, but rather by a poetic timelessness and a dreamlike surrealism, featuring childlike masks made of paper mache." 

Inger Merete Hobbelstad (2006, 24.11). Absurd and fairy-tale. Dagbladet [Oslo, Norway]:

"The result is a mysterious and alternative performance that lets ideas and associations gush forth, performed by dedicated actors with a precise body language and a rich palette of expressions." 

Elisabeth Rygg (2006, 12.11). A different sort of duck farm. Aftenposten [Oslo, Norway]:

"Director Lars Øyno does not tell a simple story from beginning to end. There are extended scenes here with war and disaster, sequences with cries and screams, hidden in smoke. The stark acting style is demanding, balancing finely on the verge of parody. But a disciplined ensemble creates a singular piece about conformity that ends in misanthropy."