Godot not in the details

Soheil Parsa believes in the value of simplicity.

The artistic director of Modern Times Stage Company, as well as the director of the current production of Waiting for Godot at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, calls simplicity "an achievement."

How so?

"You start with a big idea and more props, with more elements of set," he explains, following a matinee performance, "but the process tells me, 'you don't need this prop, you don't need this costume', and I think that's what works with Beckett: to keep it simple."

Discussing the famous play in which two tramps wait for a chap who never shows up, Parsa notes that "(it's) one of the most challenging I've directed, though it doesn't look like it when you start," he smiles, "You think it's manageable - 'oh, I can do this' -and then you realize how precise Beckett is, that what works really is simplicity."

Samuel Beckett's work is a noted example of the style known as Theatre of the Absurd, in that it doesn't follow a conventional narrative, relies heavily on repetition, and has little or no momentum.

And yet Waiting for Godot is considered by many to be the finest theatrical piece of the twentieth century. Almost everyone has had to write an essay on it in high school or university, and reams of books have been devoted to deconstructing Beckett's language, characters, and the mysterious figure who never shows.

"Godot is absolutely a very intellectual piece, a philosophy piece," says Parsa firmly, "so as a director, I do my homework. But I do the intellectualization at home, and as soon as I walk into the hall, it's one-hundred-percent intuitive."

This intuitive response is part of Parsa's approach to theatre.

Born in Iran, the theatre artist came to Canada in 1984 and, upon founding Modern Times Stage Company, directed a series of well-received pieces, including avant-garde works such as The Balcony by Jean Genet, and Ionesco's The Chairs. His love of Western theatre, particularly Absurdist styles, didn't begin when he moved, however.

"I was brought up in a very Western way, before the revolution. Iran was a westernized country, and Tehran especially, was very westernized. Theatre school mixed up combinations of Western styles and Iranian styles, so when I lived in Iran, I read translations of Beckett, and studied and researched different styles and traditions -Chinese, Russian, Japanese styles of theatre, plus Beckett and Brecht."

Parsa says he doesn't feel pressure to insert culturally-specific details to his productions, "because in a way I don't have a singular identity anymore. My background is an aspect of my identity -I've been searching for the identity with others through theatre."

The name "Modern Times", he says, comes from the Charlie Chaplin film, a work and figure he cites as a primary influence.

"(Chaplin) was an exceptional artist and exceptional human being ... I am still fascinated by the film and his work. The humanist aspect of Chaplin is the main thing, but he was a comedian that transcended comedy. His sole concern was the state of humanity, in all things. He asks what happens when we are indoctrinated by technology, the indifference created, and asks what's happening to us. And his elegant style of comedy, I love too."

The multi Dora Award-winning director eagerly points out the interesting connection between the famous "Little Tramp" and the craggy Irishman who wrote Godot.

"One of the first directors (of Godot) was a friend of Beckett's, and suggested for the parts of Gogo and Didi, that the best casting would be Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. Beckett said, 'You're damn right'."

It certainly doesn't take a stretch of the imagination to see the famous silent film stars slip comfortably into the clown/mime-related aspects of the work, what with the popular image of Vladmir and Estragon in bowler hats, and tramp outfits, engaged in vaudeville-style comedy.

"Although Beckett is very language-based, at the same time there's a lot of non-verbal elements in it. He was especially influenced by the genre of cinema from that time -the hats, the look, everything -and insists over and over again about the state of humanity and cruelty of life, but not necessarily in a heavy way."

Parsa says work created out of hardship need not be played on one sole sad note.

"That's what the comedian is for," he explains, "To touch on a bleak subject matter, and treat it darkly, it gets really dense, it's not interesting to watch, it's too much. The question is, how to find a lighter spirit for this type of bleak concept, because at the same time, life is funny too, it's ridiculous."

This element of the ridiculous showed itself when Parsa took two of his productions back to Iran.

"When I was doing Macbeth in Toronto and Montreal, again, many elements of the style weren't recognizable to critics and the Canadian public, and they called it 'very Persian', but when I went to Iran, everybody was asking me about the same elements, and saying, 'that's not Persian!'"

He lets out a laugh that echoes through the open concrete/wood lobby of the Young Centre.

"But that's a good sign -it means I haven't imitated or bought into that idea," he says, referring to culturally-specific works.

"I'm interested in the theatrical exploration of traditions like Persian or Japanese, but I use it as a springboard for something new."

His eagerness to explore new ground as organically and respectfully as possible still leaves room for many connections as well.

"Omar Khayyam is an interesting comparison," he notes thoughtfully, "He was a thousand years before Beckett, but is asking the same things: what are we? why are we here? There is the question of the concept of time too: what is today and tomorrow and yesterday? It's not the same for me as for you."

He sees resonance, too, in contemporary events and ones occurring at the time of Godot's inception.

"I don't see a major difference between now and fifty years ago -overall it's the same. We are still killing each other, still waiting, still creating chaos. In the mid-twentieth century, people waited for a saviour: they created Hitler. He was called a saviour by some. Look at Saddam Hussein -same thing: he ran a nation, then they took him out of a mousehole at the end. These characters are waiting for Godot -their perceived saviour -and then Lucky and Pozzo come. One day you're on top of the world, the next you are Lucky, or you're Pozzo, you're blind, and this is what it is, what the twentieth century is: an anticipation of a saviour, but at the end, there's no saviour, no hero."

All things considered, the lack of a saviour could be a good thing.

"Well Beckett didn't want one," he notes, "and it cannot be academically supported, but 'gogo-didi' becomes "Godot" for me -they're so phonetically close. So in a sense, you are your own saviour, you can't look for anyone else."

Still, Parsa sees a theme of humanity running through Beckett's work, one that is just as strong and noticeable, and crosses as many divides, as his hero Charlie Chaplin's, does.

"For me, it's the universality of (Beckett's) work -his subject matter is human beings. It's not American human beings, not Middle Eastern human beings, not those of the Far East. It's human beings everywhere."

"His concern," he says emphatically, "is the state of humanity,"

Waiting for Godot runs at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts through March 22nd.

For more information, go to www.moderntimesstage.com.