- Email: [email protected]
In my mind's eye
Insight
www.thelancet.com/psychiatry Vol 2 January 2015
and ward team is darkly humorous—their automaton-like dances are reminiscent of the scene from Metropolis (1927) of workers heading towards the factory gates as one unit. The observations are seen as uncaring, sterile tick boxes on a chart, and overtly medical language is talked at rather than with Cassandra. This is the only use of the spoken word in the piece and acts as a stark reminder of the need to communicate effectively, in ways comprehensible to clients and their carers. The dance is counterpoised by the visions of the film screen in the background, chorus, and Silvera’s singing as ancient Cassandra. The use of contemporary media in combination with the components of traditional Greek tragedy adds to the intensity of emotion. The audience were clearly affected—on leaving the auditorium, several people who did not have knowledge of mental illness vocalised never having thought before about what it must be like for both those who are unwell and their carers. Cassandra’s short run of just 3 nights at the Royal Opera House offered only a few people the opportunity to see this ballet. It is hoped that this piece will be staged again soon and both the ballet and its message will reach a much deserved wider audience. If this work left the audience questioning their own beliefs and judgements about mental illness and mental health care, it was successful. The power of this ballet is the vision it evokes in the mind’s eye.
Cassandra Ludovic Ondiviela. Royal Opera House, London, UK. 66 min.
Pam Hodge
Andrej Uspenski
Troubled by seeing what others cannot, Shakespeare’s Hamlet states that he has seen his dead father “in my mind’s eye”. The ambiguity of this line—has he really seen his father in physical space or is he censoring his experience for fear of being labelled mad?—is central to the plot. Likewise, the subject of Ludovic Ondiviela’s new ballet Cassandra was also given supernatural vision, in this case foresight, by Apollo. When Cassandra refused to acquiesce to his desires, Apollo cursed her to never be believed and instead to be thought of as mentally ill. This 66 min, post-modern ballet with its minimalist sets and use of multimedia captures, with much insight, the narrative of Cassandra. In this version there are two Cassandras, modern day and ancient, a Greek chorus and a film on the back screen. The modern-day Cassandra works on the stock market, a business model based on predicting the future. Gradually, she sees herself and the future differently; her interactions with her lover, mother, and colleagues alter. She becomes distressed, and is assessed and detained in a mental health unit, where her visions are pathologised. The end of the ballet comes when her prediction of Troy burning occurs, enacted by an ashen, crumbling image on the screen and stage; Cassandra’s prophecy has, to her at least, come true. The ancient Cassandra, who undertakes her tragedy on stage with the chorus, tells the same story through song. Kate Church’s filmed elements complement the story of the dance and song through background projections. Church has said that “art can tap into emotions and mental states that are difficult to articulate in a prosaic, coherent way”. The use of different visual media in this work, instead of the spoken word, illustrates this point well. The use of the financial futures market in the opening scene forces the audience from the beginning to consider the deeply irrational nature of today’s respectable norms. This use of questioning continues throughout— questioning the norms of domestic life, relationships, and what it is like not to be believed, a theme all too familiar to individuals with delusional ideas. Church and the composer and singer Ana Silvera both have personal experience of their loved ones’ psychoses. Much thought has been given to the somewhat neglected, but very important, carers’ role within mental health care. As Cassandra’s inner turmoil increases, Olivia Cowley performs an increasingly agitated and distressed dance, transitioning from fluid, rounded movements to very rigid, angular, and incoherent steps. This wonderfully captured picture of perplexity is to be admired, though it is disturbing to watch helplessly: we are placed similarly as Cassandra and her parents. The portrayal of the doctors
Royal Opera House
Ballet In my mind’s eye
Olivia Cowley and Thomas Whitehead, Royal Opera House, 2014
27
www.thelancet.com/psychiatry Vol 2 January 2015
and ward team is darkly humorous—their automaton-like dances are reminiscent of the scene from Metropolis (1927) of workers heading towards the factory gates as one unit. The observations are seen as uncaring, sterile tick boxes on a chart, and overtly medical language is talked at rather than with Cassandra. This is the only use of the spoken word in the piece and acts as a stark reminder of the need to communicate effectively, in ways comprehensible to clients and their carers. The dance is counterpoised by the visions of the film screen in the background, chorus, and Silvera’s singing as ancient Cassandra. The use of contemporary media in combination with the components of traditional Greek tragedy adds to the intensity of emotion. The audience were clearly affected—on leaving the auditorium, several people who did not have knowledge of mental illness vocalised never having thought before about what it must be like for both those who are unwell and their carers. Cassandra’s short run of just 3 nights at the Royal Opera House offered only a few people the opportunity to see this ballet. It is hoped that this piece will be staged again soon and both the ballet and its message will reach a much deserved wider audience. If this work left the audience questioning their own beliefs and judgements about mental illness and mental health care, it was successful. The power of this ballet is the vision it evokes in the mind’s eye.
Cassandra Ludovic Ondiviela. Royal Opera House, London, UK. 66 min.
Pam Hodge
Andrej Uspenski
Troubled by seeing what others cannot, Shakespeare’s Hamlet states that he has seen his dead father “in my mind’s eye”. The ambiguity of this line—has he really seen his father in physical space or is he censoring his experience for fear of being labelled mad?—is central to the plot. Likewise, the subject of Ludovic Ondiviela’s new ballet Cassandra was also given supernatural vision, in this case foresight, by Apollo. When Cassandra refused to acquiesce to his desires, Apollo cursed her to never be believed and instead to be thought of as mentally ill. This 66 min, post-modern ballet with its minimalist sets and use of multimedia captures, with much insight, the narrative of Cassandra. In this version there are two Cassandras, modern day and ancient, a Greek chorus and a film on the back screen. The modern-day Cassandra works on the stock market, a business model based on predicting the future. Gradually, she sees herself and the future differently; her interactions with her lover, mother, and colleagues alter. She becomes distressed, and is assessed and detained in a mental health unit, where her visions are pathologised. The end of the ballet comes when her prediction of Troy burning occurs, enacted by an ashen, crumbling image on the screen and stage; Cassandra’s prophecy has, to her at least, come true. The ancient Cassandra, who undertakes her tragedy on stage with the chorus, tells the same story through song. Kate Church’s filmed elements complement the story of the dance and song through background projections. Church has said that “art can tap into emotions and mental states that are difficult to articulate in a prosaic, coherent way”. The use of different visual media in this work, instead of the spoken word, illustrates this point well. The use of the financial futures market in the opening scene forces the audience from the beginning to consider the deeply irrational nature of today’s respectable norms. This use of questioning continues throughout— questioning the norms of domestic life, relationships, and what it is like not to be believed, a theme all too familiar to individuals with delusional ideas. Church and the composer and singer Ana Silvera both have personal experience of their loved ones’ psychoses. Much thought has been given to the somewhat neglected, but very important, carers’ role within mental health care. As Cassandra’s inner turmoil increases, Olivia Cowley performs an increasingly agitated and distressed dance, transitioning from fluid, rounded movements to very rigid, angular, and incoherent steps. This wonderfully captured picture of perplexity is to be admired, though it is disturbing to watch helplessly: we are placed similarly as Cassandra and her parents. The portrayal of the doctors
Royal Opera House
Ballet In my mind’s eye
Olivia Cowley and Thomas Whitehead, Royal Opera House, 2014
27