Electra

All world is a clinic and all men and women are its inmates. This conviction is the driving force of all my works in theatre. In other words I conceive of drama as a form for the playwright to crystallize and distill his impression of men as patients…My form of expression results from My desire to emphasize that at any time and in any country a human being is exposed to the perils posed by the malicious and insane life.

Absolutely enthralling is episode that the director invented for the Russian version of the play – the appearance of Electra’s mother and sworn enemy Klytaemnestra. Standing on the wheelchair and dressed in a moth-eaten fur cape (a symbol of her eroded sole) with barbarian red beads, Lyubov Selyutina looks like an animated Japanese print, mysterious and slightly gibing.
One can take time describing each gesture and each glare of the two rivals, each showing distinctive performance style. The heated monologue of the mother, complaining about sinister nightmares is heard out by Electra in silence. She is frozen on the pose of a lion cub, torn apart by fury and longing for murderous violence. Her static contains so much energy that the explosion seems just about to be set off.