Me Today – Hamlet

“I’ll keep this very brief. Today is the worst day of my life. Today, I feel empty. Today, I am not myself... Today, I am Hamlet. And, by the way, I... exist.” To be or not to be? And if we are to be, how? The production raises the same Hamlet-like questions, but looks at V. Shakespeare’s famous play through the eyes of a young person. How do you go on when you are confused and betrayed, when you have lost trust in the people dearest to you? Premiere: 2022-03-03

“Hamlet”

The first time I saw “Hamlet” was in 12th grade, on the stage of the National Kaunas Drama Theatre, in a production by the late director Eimuntas Nekrošius. My strongest impression was of Hamlet, played by the hugely popular musician Andrius Mamontovas at the time, living through the family tragedy from beginning to end at the centre of a world seemingly constructed under the influence of Baltic/Viking aesthetics. “Hamlet” stayed with me as an unbelievably tragic story of a young, talented creator’s insane self-destruction. A legendary epic made for generations to come—perhaps so that we might recognise Hamlet in ourselves? I think Hamlets are not born just once every thousand or hundred years. They appear among us, in every era, and not all that rarely.

“Hamlet”

Back in 8th grade, I seriously decided that I would read only philosophy and poetry. Drama had no particular role in my life until I began acting studies at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre. I remember reading V. Shakespeare’s plays in the dormitory during my first year, dividing the roles among my classmates because it was simply faster and easier that way. And more interesting. Once, when I had to choose between Hamlet and Ophelia, I chose the latter. As I listened to a talented classmate read Hamlet’s lines with such conviction, I “lost” Ophelia. That mysterious Hamlet became a very recognisable, tangible person. And the scene with his mother, Queen Gertrude, remained the truest, most painful and closest to me—a kind of Polaroid photograph of the whole situation. That time, “Hamlet” stayed with me as an incredibly sad but very beautiful work.

“Hamlet” again

Oskaras Koršunovas’s “Hamlet”—rational, logical and intelligent, but also rather cold and cruel, perhaps with the precision of a scalpel—was, for me personally, an unpleasant spiritual shock. The piano lid slamming down on my fingers. A forced awakening from a dreamlike journey swept up in wild ideas, a “Hamlet-like” journey. And I am grateful for it. Because how else can you assess what you believe in, what you profess with all your heart? I am not so easily persuaded or talked around. Perhaps I needed that experience to “wake up” in my own way and test myself all over again.

“Ophelia”

In 2012, I wrote the play “Me, You and Ophelia”. Its inspiration was not the question “To be or not to be”, but the thought that “we know what we are, but do not know what we may become”. At the time, most people asked me: so, how much of you is an actor, and how much a director? I won’t hide it: the production and its subject were very personal to me. The creative curiosity that had constantly accompanied me—to understand the meaning of this thought, at least for myself—led me to the production...