To the editors:

I am writing in response to the review of Hedda Gabler by Benjamin J. Soskin ’06 (Arts, “Review: ‘Hedda’ Fueled by Destruction,” April 26). I would like to inform everyone that both the production of Hedda Gabler and, crucially, Hedda herself were as good as Soskin’s review was ill-conceived. I will not go over the excellent plot of the play itself; instead I would like to present an unmitigated rejection of Soskin’s review of the performance of Rebecca J. Levy ’06. Levy plays Hedda herself, the central character of the show and the figure around which the entire play revolves. Soskin criticizes Levy for the fact that “even when the focus on stage is away from her, she is always ‘on’ and never abstracted or distracted.” This statement, as well as casting some doubt on his theories about acting, reveals Soskin’s misinterpretation of the character of Hedda. The whole point of the play is that Hedda is suffering from an agony of awareness about her own imprisoned state—she is trapped in her own boredom, and she cannot forget this for a single instant. Levy’s deliberate manner and wild-eyed intensity, therefore, are excellent reflections of the rapacity with which Hedda focuses on each new element of awfulness in her life. One cannot expect a character tormented by her own constant misery to drift off into abstraction and forget her train of thought.

This same statement could be made of the character Eilert Lovborg, played by John C. Dewis, who is also being tortured by extreme mental agony; and the fact that Dewis, though for the most part convincing, has been known to lose his intensity and improvise his lines brings into question the fervor of Soskin’s admiration for his performance. However, Soskin’s exaggerated praise of Dewis is not nearly as offensive as his unnecessary delving into Rebecca Levy’s past. When writing a review one ought to keep one’s focus on the show at hand. There is no need for the reviewer to list actors’ past performances, and such a tactic becomes inexcusable when it is used as a weapon against the actor.

The absurdity of this attack on Levy, combined with his overstatements about what he deems her “cartoonishness,” would, as I have said before, make Soskin’s review simply laughable, were it not for the fear that many Crimson readers might not know to disregard his claims. Lest readers think that I am simply reacting to Soskin’s opinions—which he has the right both to possess and to publish—I would like to emphasize again the one-sided nature of his review, not only in its method of criticizing Levy but also in its inefficient use of space. Rather than filling paragraphs with his own similes, Soskin would have done better had he reviewed all of the actors’ performances. Given the small size of the cast, it seems unjust to devote to four out of the seven characters a mere five lines. Daniel J. Wilner ’07, who played Hedda’s husband, certainly deserves more notice—his acting was so genuine that it was impossible to believe he was acting at all. The performance by Mary E. Birnbaum ’07 of the mousy Mrs. Elvsted was an impressive escalation from uncertainty through fear to panic and served as an excellent foil for Hedda’s ruthlessness. Jess R. Burkle ’06 as Judge Brack was the epitome of gravel-voiced sleaze, and the occasions on which he allowed the audience glimpses of his inner comedian highlighted the subtle but crucial thread of humor in the play. Megan E.M. Low ’04 as George Tessman’s devoted aunt cast a perspectivally crucial light of prim conventional opinion on the confines of Hedda’s twisted world; her performance was especially noteworthy for the anguish in her face when she turned away from the other characters and showed her frustration to the audience alone. Jojo Karlin as Berta the maid showed, as indeed all the actors showed, an admirably unwavering intensity in her performance and a self-confident dedication to her character.

As well as the actors, one must address the aesthetic design of the show. Hedda Gabler stands out as one of the best uses of the space in the Ex that I have seen here. The set was beautiful, both futuristic and functional, combining concrete benches and delicate pussywillow. The costumes were trim and stream-lined, the lighting was both eerie and eerily precise, and the sound added the perfect ambience of tense strangeness to the show. In fact, aside from the performances themselves, what was most impressive about the production was its uniformity of atmosphere, and for this one must give credit to the person most responsible for the show’s overall greatness, the director Mike Donahue. Donahue planned this show down to every muttered line, every hand-bag, every measure of music, every pussywillow branch—and this dedication shows. He is one of the best directors now at Harvard, and this production reveals his unmatched control over his own show. He is a director who actually has visions, and they work.

Soskin compares Hedda to a Swiss watch, and one cannot entirely deny this claim. In its rigid timing, its assured performances, its clear design, the show displays all the marks of an experienced director entirely confident in his own work—one who, like that celebrated timepiece of Switzerland, always knows when to expect the next tick. In other words, this is one hell of a Swiss watch—contrary to Soskin’s belief, its gears wouldn’t even know how to grind, much less churn. Simply put, Hedda Gabler was one of the best plays I have ever seen. It was a fantastic introduction to Ibsen, a perfect showcase for Rebecca Levy’s talent, and a brilliant confirmation of Mike Donahue’s genius. I was riveted from the opening line to the closing tableau.

URSULA G. DEYOUNG ’04

April 27, 2004