| Mexican
nun Sor Juana Ines
de la Cruz wrote “House of Desires” for presentation
in 1683 at the court of the viceroy and his wife, and like Shakespeare’s
works presented at the English court earlier in the century, it
is intended to amuse. According
to Ottavio Paz, writer of the definitive biography Sor Juana, by the age of thirteen Juana was
a child prodigy, astounding an assembly of the learned with her
knowledge. Having read all the classics in her grandfather’s
library, she declined offers of marriage and opted for holy orders
and a life in a convent where she might be surrounded by her books
and music, writing plays and poetry and essays – one of which
got her into trouble with the reigning bishop.
Reminiscent
of Plautus, “House of Desires” as directed by Nancy Meckler is a delightful, fast-paced satiric farce on love
and honor, a favorite theme of plays by Calderon and other Spanish
dramatists. Two couples
pair off at the end after mixups that
entail rejected suitors, jealousy, disguise, and intrigue initiated
by two clever servants. Beginning as Sor
Juana writing at her convent desk, Leonor then emerges from her habit as the heroine of the play,
her name a tribute to Juana’s patron Leonor,
wife of the viceroy. Dona
Leonor and her boyfriend Don Carlos (Joseph Millson) are eloping when they are attacked and take refuge
in the house of Dona Ana (Claire Cox), who has a crush on Carlos
and who separates them, assigning them to different rooms
. Don Juan, a rejected suitor of Ana’s (Osca Pearce) bursts onto the scene to declare his undying
love. Ana’s brother Don Pedro arrives, declaring
his love for Leonor. A convention of
the Spanish drama is the monologue: Leonor’s
monologue about her life reflects Sor
Juana’s own early years. Another convention is the song, here a charming
quartet with the refrain asking who suffers most in love.
Two scenes in the “dark” (full
lights on) comment amusingly on how the lovers change and change
again as they grope for (and miss) each other and attempt to grab
others.
Another
Plautine device is that of disguise. While Ana’s clever servant will stop at nothing
to win for her mistress the suitor she desires, Don Carlos’s servant Castano
(Simon Trinder) uses Leonor’s
elopement baggage to dress as a woman to escape from one tight
situation, only to find himself in another – wooed by the egotistical
poseur Pedro (William Buckhurst). Simon Trinder gleefully dons and comments on each piece of feminine
attire in his reverse strip-tease.
The macho men, in traditional leather, fume and strut and
strike attitudes, but it is the women who twist them about and
triumph at the end. Tickets and repertory performance schedule:
www.rsc.org.uk.
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