The Lady and Her Sources and The Bald Soprano

A curious combination of comedies is the new presentation at the Poet's Theater. Eugene Ionesco's The Bald Soprano is almost pure farce, while The Lady and Her Sources, by the Spanish poet Pedro Salinas, is a sharply etched satire on professors and pedantry.

The evening starts with Salinas' hero, Professor Desiderio, being visited by a pretty young girl who claims to be the subject of the biography he is currently writing. The professor is suspicious, because his subject has been dead for a hundred years. A true historian, he says: "I, for example, never allow myself to be inspired. I burrow. . ." The play has a few serious overtones, resulting from the plight of a man inspired in spite of himself, but the style is always light and satiric in a capable translation by Stephen Gilman and Harry W. Rodgers.

Unfortunatly, Bernard Miller has not mastered Professor Desiderio's volatile Spanish character, and his performance is forced as a consequence. Mary Graydon, however, is delightfully human as the Lady, and John Ahern is lively in the small role of a reporter. The play runs a little long, but perhaps a more convincing central performance would have helped.

The Bald Soprano contrasts vividly with The Lady and Her Sources. Where Salinas had been ironic, Eugene Ionesco is abstruse, absurd, and abnormous. His "Anti-play" makes Waiting for Godot look pale and logical. Lines follow each other without connection, characters change identities, and the humor is always mixed with bewilderment. When there is logic, it is carried to such an extreme that it becomes ridiculous. Yet, every so often Ionesco shows us a glimmering of reality that other writers seldom uncover. InThe Bald Soprano the characters seem to say whatever comes to their minds--momentary antagonisms, sexual impulses, errant thoughts, and every-day chatter. There are dull stretches, but such devices as mixed verb tenses when speaking of death give an interesting timelessness to the play. Ionesco is often incomprehensible, but seldom meaningless, and he seems to be saying "Look how strange and funny mankind is."

The production is marvelous: Edward J. O'Callahan and Vivian Jarvis extract every ounce of mortality from the roles of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, while the performance of Richard Gediman as the Firechief is a real tour de force. Director Edward Thommen amazes us once again with the amount of movement he can make look natural on a small stage, and Ellen Booth's costumes and John Gilland's lighting are always appropriate. If you're interested in experimental theater, try a visit to 24 Palmer Street.