Review: En blick är en blick är en blick

A look is a look is a look – the trios of actors amuse and touch with a multifaceted study of the power of the gaze

Who really defines us – ourselves, the gaze of others, or the gaze we attribute to others? When six aspiring actors from the Theatre Academy’s Swedish-language programme tackle the gaze as a phenomenon, the result is like a fascinating play with Chinese boxes. Is it even possible to catch sight of the last one at the bottom, free from the shrouds of expectations and preconceptions?

If this production has a godmother, her name is undoubtedly Gertrude Stein.

It is not only the title that alludes to Stein and her efforts to decouple the concepts from their ballasts. In Herman Nyby’s character, she even steps onto the stage herself and proclaims her “you are all a lost generation” with another winged expression.

You all belong to the lost generation.

Originally, it was about the generation of young people who had seen their faith in the future shattered by the First World War.

But when this production’s Stein catches eye on his co-stars, the target audience is Generation Z – a collection of digital natives who have not only grown up with all the global crises in real time, but also with everything that the rampant exposure culture brings.

What does that mean? Disillusionment or panic?

Certainly something of both, but in A Glance Is a Gaze, a glance is also a healthy portion of analytical clarity.

How do I think they look at me?

Under the direction of Jessica Grabowsky and Milja Sarkola, the theatre threes have deconstructed the gaze with the help of three overarching questions.

How do I think a loved one sees me, how do I think I appear from an acquaintance’s perspective, and how could a public figure see me?

The production at Lilla Teatern is careful not to expose but feels both intimate and recognizable when it focuses on the family circle. At the same time, of course, we are always aware that we don’t really know whose gaze applies and whose voice we hear.

For example, is the conflict-free sibling love put in the mouth of an absent brother true or wishful thinking on the part of the sister? Here she is the one who has the floor.

And if a daughter lives into a mother’s world of thought – is the portrayed mother’s testimony about her sensitive daughter then true, probable or most of all a true representation of how the mother projects her own discomfort and fear onto the daughter?

In our own children, we tend to interpret ourselves.

But of course, identification is also the basis for everything else we take to heart. When three generations of women gather in front of the TV screen in this production, only one does not testify to any reference points to the characters in Girls at all.

The grandmother is blissfully deaf and born long before the phenomenon of the “TV families” we later generations have often come to know better than our own families.

In the salon with Persbrandt, Diana, magician and comedian

But the production is probably the most delicious when it takes the turns in the celebrity department. In Gertrude Stein’s legendary Paris Salon, a motley crew soon gathers.

Emelie Zilliacus and Emilia Jansson explore their ambivalent relationships with Mikael Persbrandt and Jesus respectively, while Mathilda Kruse affirms her love of magic with Minerva McGonagall from Potter’s Hogwarts school.

And Antti Saarikallio goes into close combat with comedian Bill Burr while Oksana Lommi digs out Princess Diana under her tulle skirts.

In these portraits, there is no doubt where the line between truth, myth and personal interpretation lies.

Or okay, let’s limit ourselves to myth and personal interpretation.

Because no unambiguous truths even exist. It would rattle with the whole idea in a performance that explicitly emphasizes the selectivity of every gaze.

So let’s put it this way: in the portraits of real and fictional celebrity figures, the actors illustrate the gap between myth and elusive truth. And in that game, they often place themselves in the role of the subjective truth-teller.

A glance is just a glance

Is Mikael Persbrandt actually something more than a hollow image? Was Jesus really able to perform miracles? And was Princess Diana anything more than a tragic victim?

Maybe, maybe not. But however we perceive them, we are the ones who have made them what they appear to be, in order to meet our needs.

Just as the actors interpret them, via their own implicit projections.

The result is both self-ironic and comical.

And also a brilliant reminder that a look is actually just a look. Without the claim of sweeping generalizations or “truths”.