Chorus by Chris Thorpe

Gate Theatre, London

Rehearsal & production photos by Helen Murray

About

You may be willing to die for your beliefs, but who would you kill for them?

Agamemnon faces an impossible choice: he is a father commanded by the gods to sacrifice his daughter. In doing so, he will lose his wife, Clytemnestra, and bury his child, Iphigenia. Ever present over his shoulder, the Chorus awaits Iphigenia’s fate.

One tragedy. Four explosive plays. In THE IPHIGENIA QUARTET, the classic Greek story of Iphigenia at Aulis is retold by four of the UK's most exciting and radical playwrights. The domestic catastrophe is re-imagined from the perspective of each key player: Clytemnestra grapples with the ultimate betrayal; Iphigenia boldly accepts her fate; Agamemnon wrestles with an impossible choice; and the Chorus powerlessly observe the tragedy unfold, unable to look away.

CHORUS, by Chris Thorpe, was one of the four new plays performed as THE IPHIGENIA QUARTET at the Gate Theatre, London in 2016.

For more information, please visit the Gate's website here.

Creative Team

Director: Elayce Ismail
Writer: Chris Thorpe
Set & Costume Designer: Cécile Trémolières
Lighting Designer: Joshua Pharo
Sound Designer: Elena Peña
Assistant Director: Ed Madden

Cast

Nigel Barrett, Sharon Duncan-Brewster, Andrew French, Louise McMenemy

Selected Reviews

**** CHORUS is one mighty j'accuse to mob mentality, beautifully directed by Elayce Ismail.
The Stage

(CHORUS) evokes the troll-like alienation and strange poetry of the internet generation. Shedding their clothes and dropping sweet wrappers, (the) quartet of duelling, opinionated speakers seem profligate and self-absorbed. It's a dazzling technical feat, linguistically nimble and packed with mordant satire.
Evening Standard

CHORUS is, unsurprisingly, brilliant... In neat, greedy quatrains, the gossipy elders of Euripides become an internet comments section... a global chorus, voice flicking restively from a TV repairman in Lagos to a market trader in Phnom Penh... it is a masterstroke, transfiguring our own audience spectatorship into something uglier. Elayce Ismail directs with a steady hand, allowing the screen-filtered horror to build in a slow relentless crescendo as the cast shed sweet wrappers, shredded tissues and clothes.
Exeunt Magazine