But what is the Greek pronunciation for "George Bush"?

Yesterday I directed a reading of Judith Malina's translation of Brecht's version of Sophocles's Antigone.

Got that?

It was fun. I have such a love-hate relationship with readings. I agree to do them most of the time because they always sound like a good idea and are usually an opportunity to work with a company I haven't worked with before on material that would be difficult to produce otherwise (new plays, extinct plays, plays with large casts). And I always think - well, it's a reading, so low pressure, right?

But the date that I agree to is always a week after I open a show. Seriously - this has now happened three times. I could go six months without working at all, and then I'll have a show, and the week after I sign on to it someone will call and say "Do you want to do this reading on Date X?" and Date X will be exactly one week after my show opens.

So, not one to buck trends, about two months ago I agreed to do this reading knowing full well that my show would have opened the weekend before. And, par the course, I have the whole reading thing in the back of my head and suddenly it is two weeks away and I have one cast member confirmed and eight (eight!) still to cast and then suddenly I curse ever agreeing to do it.

But it always works out.

And this one - really, turned out to be such a dreamy cast and such a powerful script (and only an hour long!) that by the end of it we were all in that, "We should actually produce this play!" fervor. And we should.

Malina did the translation from the German when she was in jail being held for tax evasion on property taxes for the East Village theater that she and her Living Theater cohorts owned. It later turned out she was not guilty. I bet that theater is now a boutique. Or a restaurant that only serves rice pudding. Or something pretentious and New York-y like that.

The translation was done during the Vietnam War. The piece (as does most Living Theater stuff) definitely has that anarchist-protest-spirit about it. The actual Brecht version was written a few years after WWII and focuses primarily on Creon - and how his thirst for power allowed him to drive Thebes into an unethical war. The people of Thebes are also indicted for having let him do it. There are a few references that really suggest WWII Germany (Creon at one point talks about Antigone's antagonism being tempered in the "ovens" if necessary. Kind of chilling.) But for the most part it feels applicable to any situation where a nation has allowed their leader to wage an uncalled for war, and has done nothing to stop it.

At one point Antigone asks, "Where are all the young men?" The war is over and the men are not back. Where have they gone to?

The elders later demand "Bring them home." When Creon protests, "Empty-handed?" they respond "Empty handed or without hands."

Can't help but think of all the stories of the Iraqi amputees, eh?

Can't help but think of this administration at every plot turn, really. During the talk of cleansing the state of dissenters. Of invading nations for "metal" (oil?).

Of gaining wisdom only when it is too late.

Tiresius speaks of looking into the future - which he sees more clearly than anyone who actually possesses sight - and he says simply, "I shuddered".

We should all be shuddering.