Dybbuk

Reviewed by Ann Limpert
4 Stars
Choreographer Irina Tsikurishvili also performs as Leah

The Tsikurishvilis have done it again. The husband-and-wife founders of Synetic Theater (Paata is artistic director; wife Irina is the choreographer and lead dancer), who mix dance with drama and take artistic risks left and right (silent Hamlet , anyone?), here collaborate with Theater J for a new conception of the Russian play The Dybbuk, based on a Jewish folktale. What emerges on stage—a fusion of modern dance and traditional theater—is a work of startling creativity.

The Dybbuk —translated anew by Paata and Theater J literary director Hannah Hessel and and set in Georgia, not the traditional Russia—is a tragic love story. Chonnon is a brilliant but poor Jewish scholar. He’s devastated when his love, Leah, is betrothed to a wealthier man by her materialistic father. Chonnon is so consumed by the loss—he can barely stand up, much less eat or work—that he dies. It has the makings of a classic tragic romance, until the dybbuk shows up. In the Kabbalah and in Jewish folklore, a dybbuk is a spirit caught between the earthly world and the spiritual afterlife. The wandering spirit looks for a living person to inhabit so he can have another chance at life. As Leah somberly goes through the motions of the wedding she doesn’t want, she becomes possessed by Chonnon’s soul. “I am between two worlds, without past, without memory,” he speaks, as Leah writhes and seethes around the stage.

All performances are very good-; four are terrific. Giving an essentially wordless performance as Leah, Irina Tsikurishvili, who is also responsible for the excellent choreography, is an elegantly precise dancer and a wonderfully emotive actor. Her face—with a downcast glance here, a flashing snarl there—is so powerfully expressive that words might seem irrelevent. Irakli Kavasadze dignifies the character of Sender, Leah’s father, with a sympathetic complexity and handles both comic exuberance and helpless despondancy with equal deftness. Leah’s groom, played by Philip Fletcher, is on stage for only a short time, but he’s a standout too, giving one of the most thrilling dance performances. And Andrew Zox’s take on Chonnon, through language and dance, is controlled and poignant.

Other impressive elements include transformative lighting that switches from gentle to chilling and a spare but striking set.

The only scene that sags is near the end, when Sender tries to reckon with the spirit who might free his daughter. The harsh green light, swirling smoke, and ominous voiceovers bring to mind Vincent Price more than any otherworldly power. But it’s a five-minute fillip in the scheme of things, and it doesn’t hinder the rest of the show.

In the end, it’s Paata Tsikurishvili’s artistic vision that breathes new life into this old Jewish tale. Synetic and Theater J—now that’s a blessed union.