From the Filature de Mulhouse to the Festival de Marseille, Elli Papakonstantinou confronts mythology and the present time with "The Bacchae".

From the Filature in Mulhouse to the Marseille Festival, by way of the Espace des Arts in Chalon-sur-Saône, where she is presenting her very "queer" adaptation of  Euripides' The Bacchae  , the Athenian director and activist plays with contrasts and questions the evolution of our societies by confronting mythology and the present day. Deeply committed, she discusses both her creative process and the situation of artists in Greece. 

What made you want to stage this text by Euripides? 

Elli Papakonstantinou:  There is something in this ancient tragedy that resonates with what is happening in the world today, that speaks directly to what our societies are currently experiencing. Euripides ' play  transcends genre boundaries, epistemological boundaries, the boundaries between fiction and reality, between humanity and animality, between the living and the dead, between past and present. Through the character of this god, who rejects the binary nature of our societies, the Greek playwright evokes a state of transition between the two sexes. Neither man nor woman, Dionysus, who returns to avenge the harm done to his mother, navigates between two states, two universes. This is all the more interesting because Euripides wrote this text, the last of his works to have survived, while he was in exile. In it, he evokes a political transition between a world governed by patriarchal rules and a new one that breaks free from those norms. Rereading this work, I was struck by how it resonates with our current reality, where two opposing currents constantly clash, unable to understand each other. Positioned at the juncture of these two conflicting worlds, The Bacchae embodies, in my mind, the desperate attempt to live in a new, unknown, desired, yet not yet tangible reality, and thus carries with it the power, violence, and potential for failure inherent in any uncontrolled outcome. Failure often offers more creative, collaborative, and unexpected ways of being in the world, even as it confronts us with the darker side of life, coexistence, and desire. This is reflected both in the proposed transcription of the work and in the very process of its creation. Order and chaos, darkness and light, constantly alternate until an apparent equilibrium is reached.

Is the "queer" aspect of the Bacchae linked in particular to the fact that in antiquity sexual binaries were not as clear-cut as they are today? 

Elli Papakonstantinou:  Absolutely. When you delve into Greek mythology, you realize that the world was indeed less binary than our Western societies are today. There were no minorities as we understand them now. Moreover, after leaving Athens, Euripides went to Samothrace, where there was an esoteric, mystical school, a current of thought that transcended traditional, binary constraints. Influenced by these concepts of a freer life, the playwright speaks in  The Bacchae of this world, almost without borders. Dionysus disguises himself to visit his mother Agave and his aunts and return to Thebes. He slips into the skin of a trans person, thus triggering a series of events oscillating between violence and hope. 

In your staging, there is a mix of codes between trans identity, sensuality and a kitsch universe?

Elli Papakonstantinou:  Yes, I wanted to play with different aesthetics, using them as a tool that was both political and artistic. The visual is very important in my work because it allows me to shift the audience's perspective, to highlight certain intentions in a text or a work, to go beyond words. So, with  The Bacchae , I found it interesting to play with queer codes: outrageous makeup, flashy costumes, shifting from an operatic aria to a pop melody. By invoking a whole range of contradictory codes on stage, it allowed me to create a universe of all possibilities, without polarization, where everyone can live as they see fit and where everyone accepts each other. For me, that's the very definition of what the word "Queer" encompasses. The goal was also to break free from conventional frameworks, to propose another paradigm where it's possible to live according to one's desires and wants without having to hide. Our era has broken free from certain gender norms, but it's not so simple when we see the rise in homophobic and transphobic acts in many Western countries, which goes hand in hand with a retreat into isolationism. We live in an increasingly polarized space where opposing sides cannot reach an understanding and are becoming increasingly irreconcilable. 

In your show, which ingeniously blends visual, choreographic and theatrical art, you combine desire and barbarity on stage, as if ultimately the only response to incomprehension was violence?

Elli Papakonstantinou:  The performance is like a wound, a scar that carries the protagonists away. Pentheas is branded by his inability to accept the binary system imposed by society. Envy and desire lie dormant and can only break free from their patriarchal and conformist constraints at the cost of a profound rupture. In fact, the play is structured around an axis that divides it at its center. The first part is very oral, very theatrical; the second allows the bodies to express themselves. But it is also a play about healing, about overcoming the scar.  

You are a socially conscious artist, and the situation for artists in Greece has become increasingly precarious in recent months. Can you tell us a little about it? 

Elli Papakonstantinou:  This is a pivotal moment. Elections are currently underway. The hope of seeing the law changed, though rather futile, is one of the major issues for the future of culture in my country. Since December 2022, everything has gone wrong. The proclamation of a presidential decree that lowered the art degree (a minimum of three years after high school graduation) to the level of a secondary school diploma ignited a firestorm. The consequences for artists and art students are dramatic. They affect everything from remuneration and future pensions to difficulties in pursuing higher education. It's a huge erosion of rights and, in my opinion, a provocation against us. For almost six months now, demands for the repeal of this law have been the driving force of Greek cultural life. Discussions are ongoing. Of course, it's unlikely the government will back down, but we still hope for a more favorable revaluation of our art degrees in the long run, rather than the one initially announced.

In practical terms, what does this mean for artists?

Elli Papakonstantinou:  This is a complete and utter exclusion of artists from the university system. None of us can teach at the university anymore. It's a way to demotivate, marginalize, and discourage young people from pursuing this path. Especially since it coincides with the government's announcement of a minimum wage cut, meaning the entire sector is weakened. It's a real catastrophe, because in Greece, there's no intermittent employment system. To make a living, you have to take on multiple contracts. And since, in parallel, the government has also decided to reduce subsidies for independent companies, it's going to become increasingly difficult to be an artist and create in my country. Art should be one of the fundamental elements of our democracies. This is less and less the case. At least, not for politicians. It's a way to prevent people from seeing things differently, from thinking, and to control the narratives. This is a very worrying trend, one that is spreading to all Western societies. In Greece, at the time of the crisis, only private institutions could produce shows. Everything staged during that period was very conservative. There was no talk of community, integration, or assimilation, but rather of polarization, of repeating narratives that ultimately all said the same thing. Art must be free and independent. But that's a utopia. 

You perform in France and throughout Europe. Is it important for you to export your art and expose it to other perspectives? 

Elli Papakonstantinou:  Absolutely, it's crucial. I'm a feminist, I question the notion of binary thinking, I venture into marginalized subjects that aren't so easy to discuss in Greece. So, to make myself heard, it's necessary to transcend borders, and for my own reflection, I need to see how my work is perceived by other eyes, other mindsets. What's interesting to observe, depending on the country, is that it's never the same places that are sensitive or shocking. When I created Traces of Antigone, a digital performance, the notion of borders was completely absent, since the audience, whether Indian, American, or Italian, came to the work, not the other way around. It's quite fascinating to observe this shift in thought and body.