Amy Couchoud

THEA 493.001

5/11/98

A Production Plan for Directing Simone Benmussa's The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs from a Materialist Feminist Perspective

Over the past few decades, the director has begun to "take over" the role of the playwright. Increasingly, the director is considered the source of the meaning or experience constructed for the audience of any theatrical production. Instead of trying to follow the playwright's intentions, today's directors are concerned with experimentation, often trying to reveal the problematic aspects of a text. Feminist directors are especially interested in "subverting the canon," trying to reform texts in performance in order to call attention to, or deconstruct, their phallocentrism. But, as Gay Gibson Cima points out, this can be problematic.

One solution to this potential problem is offered through the work of such playwrights as Caryl Churchill, Hélène Cixous, and Simone Benmussa. They are the pioneers of a kind of feminist playwrighting which calls attention to the effects of male-domination through character, narrative, and theatricality; thus allowing the feminist director to work with a text, rather than against it.

Representing the feminist perspective in plays has always been problematic, mostly because it is continually shifting. The search for a feminine identity is far from over. Originally, feminists created an écriture feminine based on the idea that there is an irreducible female essence. Critics of this, such as Julia Kristeva point out that these "feminist demands revive a kind of naïve romanticism, a belief in identity [which is] the reverse of phallocratism." She calls out for an art which "dissolves identity, even sexual identity."² Taking Kristeva's ideas a step farther, playwrights such as Benmussa seek not to dissolve sexual identities entirely, but to call attention to, and critique, the historical and psychological conditions which breed them in the first place. Indeed, this is the main idea behind materialist feminism which "views women as historical subjects whose relation to prevailing social structures is also influenced by race, class, and sexual identification . . . gender is not innate. Rather, it is dictated through enculturation, as gender divisions are placed at the service of the dominant culture's ideology."³ To completely destroy sexual identities is to ignore the effect gender differences has had on the female psyche. Instead, materialist feminists like Benmussa attack the source of gender roles, which they claim is not an ahistorical, natural, shared vision, but the product of historical human activity. In The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs, Benmussa uses three main weapons for assaulting the canon: cross-gendering, narrative, and Marxism.

The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs is the story of a woman in Victorian Ireland who is forced for economic reasons to dress as a man. Although this disguise is financially liberating, it leads to an isolation that leaves her emotionally unfulfilled at her death. From a feminist perspective, Albert's transition from woman to man emphasizes that gender is more a social or economic necessity rather than a biological reality. Albert and another "perhapser", Hubert Page, wear gender as easily as one might wear their clothes. She is so convincing as a man that her disguise is not discovered until after her death. In fact, she is well-liked as a man. Sue-Ellen Case argues that this relative ease in switching genders "makes the traditional roles of the other women - with their long skirts and coy looks - seem as imposed and artificial as Albert's gender identification."⁴ But, Albert is unhappy. Her life as a woman provided her with no fulfillment either sexually or economically, so she became a man. Although as a man she is financially independent, she is utterly alone. She is neither man nor woman, but in between: a perhapser. In his response paper to one of my in-class presentations on this subject, Tony Nam asked several questions about Albert's cross-dressing, including: "Is it a critique specifically on the Victorian society and its oppression of women? Or is it more universal, showing how women must sacrifice their femininity in order to be a part of that business world?"⁵ The answer is neither of these things. It is a critique of the concept of femininity itself. Albert's loneliness is not a result of the fact that she is dressed as a man, but that she must choose between two ideals, neither of which she can live up to: man or woman. "She was forced by a patriarchal society to pretend to be a man in order to survive, yet that same patriarchy has supplied her with the romantic myths of a love that she can now never have."⁶ Ironically, it is exactly her mix of feminine and masculine qualities that are cited as the reasons she is well-liked. "For he was the most dependable servant in the hotel: no running round to public-houses and coming back with the smell of whiskey and tobacco upon him; no rank pipe in his pocket; and above all, no playing the fool with the maid-servants."⁷ This lack of traditionally male attributes is considered to be among Albert's assets as a man, but as a woman it would simply be expected. In her search for happiness, Albert decides, on the advice of Hubert Page, to pursue a courtship with another women. This fails miserably. Helen Dawes rejects Albert because she fails to exhibit traditional male courting behaviors, yet Helen's own behavior is an artifice calculated to seduce Albert out of her money. This points out the artificiality of all gender roles, not just Albert's cross-dressing.

One of the more interesting features of Benmussa's script is that it gives a historical perspective on the nature of gender. It doesn't just say that gender is artificial, it shows where these ideas came from and how they were imposed on society, and it does so in a very theatrical manner: through the narrative. The connection between history and narrative is very important. History is passed down through narrative. It is how time enters human experience. As Elin Diamond puts it "to understand history as narrative is a crucial move for feminists, not only because it demystifies the idea of disinterested authorship, but because the traditionally subordinate role of women in history can be seen as the legacy of narrative itself."⁸ Benmussa foregrounds this idea for the audience through the physical manifestation of George Moore's voice. From the very beginning of the play, the audience is fully aware that the story is told through the eyes of George Moore. Benmussa sets up Moore's control of the narrative by slowly easing from the "actual" world of Moore and his companion Alec to the story's world. In the beginning, the story of the play is told in the dark by the disembodied voice of George Moore. As he continues to talk, Albert appears, controlled by the force of Moore's narration. The actress playing Albert Nobbs does not say a word until the second scene. This framing effect forces the audience to "understand female identity as a historical and cultural construction whose causes and consequences constitute the drama being enacted."⁹ Benmussa then layers this frame with others by having other characters in the play narrativize Albert. "The hotel staff, Helen Dawes, and the hotel owner, Mrs. Baker, all create their own versions of Albert's life that effectively deny Albert's agency."¹⁰ Even within her own world, the story's world, Albert does not have a voice. Significantly, it is both the men and the women who "deny Albert's agency." Of further interest is a speech not in George Moore's original story, in which Mrs. Baker compares Albert's true story to an untrue one. With this addition, Benmussa calls into question the validity of Mrs. Baker's account as well as any account of a woman's life told through the male gaze. Benmussa further subverts the assumed validity of narrative by breaking up its format. Instead of using the traditional conflict and revelation structure employed by Moore in the original story, she reorders events so as to undermine their climactic nature. For instance, she reveals that Albert and Hubert are women at the very beginning, rather than building the suspense of why she doesn't want to sleep with Hubert. Also, Benmussa cut a steamy kiss that Helen plants on Albert in the courtship scene. This keeps the audience from being distracted by the lesbian tendencies of the script, or by dramatic conflict, allowing them to focus on understanding the implications of Albert's situation. As Sharon Ammen points out, "the additions of feminist material to a script can be completely overshadowed by a dramatic, climactic structure in which the audience's experience of the scenes in performance further romanticizes the action."¹¹ This structural re-ordering leads to a kind of Brechtian alienation, which forces the audience to watch the play from a more detached critical perspective. Their lack of emotional involvement allows the audience to more readily notice the artificiality of gender roles within the play.

Intrinsic in both Brechtian theory and materialist feminism are the ideas of Marxism. Brecht's epic theatre is formulated to provoke a political critique that will lead to change in a class-based society. Meanwhile, materialist feminism is not strictly Marxian as it is not economic in nature. However, it "argues that through cultural production the ideas of the ruling class come to be considered normative for the culture at large. Less powerful people are subjected to social structures that benefit the interests of the more powerful."¹² Women, therefore, are seen as a "class" that is oppressed by material and social conditions. Thus, The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs is Marxian in that it represents the oppression of women as a class, and it uses Brechtian techniques that are based in Marxism. However, it is not merely Marxist from a materialist feminist perspective, but from an economic standpoint as well. Through Albert's plight, Benmussa not only critiques the historical viewpoint that led (and leads) to gender roles, but the system that equates happiness with economic success: capitalism. For Albert, all thoughts of happiness through personal fulfillment have been replaced with dreams of financial security. Even as she courts Helen Dawes, all she can think if is the cost-benefit analysis of it. Sure, she will have to spend so much money every time she takes Helen out, but she will get a return on her investment once she and Helen own their own shop. Eventually, after Helen refuses her proposal, Albert's sexual desire is relinquished to greed. She begins hoarding her tips, carefully saving her money, although she has nothing to save it for. After she dies, tons of money is found in her room, a poor substitute for human companionship. Ironically, since Albert has no family or friends, her fortune is reverted to the state, "the ideological apparatus under which she has relinquished her life."¹³ Benmussa says:

Even in death, Albert is frozen in a pose of work, polishing a male guest's shoes. This symbolizes her whole life: the pursuit of economic freedom at the expense of emotional happiness. Albert is trapped in a society that equates happiness with economic security, and economic security with maleness.

As a feminist director, I often have to approach a script in attack mode. Usually, I find myself searching for ways to "subvert the canon" through my production plan. This comes not from a desire to "fight the patriarchy", but from a desire to present something I believe in to the public. I cannot, in good conscience, perpetuate feminine stereotypes in a play I direct. What I love about The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs is that I don't have to "mess" with the script. Benmussa's eloquent feminist revision of the original text does it all for me. My production plan, therefore, is less about molding the script into something I can be proud of, and more about nurturing the ideas that are already there.

The cross-gendering of Albert and Hubert Page, is of course central to the ideas of the play. It is important that a) the audience understands gender as a construct of history, not a natural, shared vision, and b) the audience sees Albert as a victim of these constructs, not as a freak. Thankfully, Benmussa goes a long way in accomplishing these two things through her use of narrative. My strategy in this area would be based mostly on acting techniques and costuming.

The problem of the acting in The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs is paradoxical in nature. The audience must find the cross-gendering of Albert and Hubert believable, else the argument that gender can be convincingly donned as easily as clothing might be destroyed. But, they must see the artificiality in gender constructs as well. In my mind, the acting style of this piece should be, for the most part, Brechtian. His ideas for quoting, rather than psychologically becoming, a character thwarts the psychoanalytic processes of traditional narrative. "Rather than being seduced by the narrative that offers a comfortable gender position, the spectator is asked to pay critical attention to the gender ideology the representational process historically produces and the oppressive social relations it legitimizes."¹⁵ Also, it is important to remember that the characters in the play are part of a story. They are seen from only one viewpoint, through the eyes of George Moore, therefore they should be fairly two-dimensional. This alienation of naturalistic characterization would be particularly evident in the characters of Helen Dawes and the Ghost Maids. Helen Dawes is the essence of femininity in this script. She uses what she feels is her only weapon, her sexuality, to seduce Albert out of her money. My thought is that Helen should be hyper-femme; so feminine that she is almost plastic. It should be evident that all Helen knows how to be is a "woman". When Albert does not respond to her advances the way a "man" should, Helen is flustered. Even her conniving is not her own idea, but rather the result of the manipulation of Joe Mackins, her other boyfriend. The hyper-femininity of Helen Dawes, would serve to point out the limitations, as well as a kind of emptiness, in the traditional female role. Eventually, during the break up scene, the artificiality of Helen should increase. Her movements unreal, like those of a puppet, to convey the control that society has over her. Albert herself is not without a feminine side. Although long repressed, the female identity of Albert is manifested through the Ghost Maids. This doubling effect suggests that Albert is a fragmented identity that because of the constructs of society can never fuse. Albert can never find the balance between man and woman that she craves, but must always remain a "perhapser" because society provides us with only two gender choices, and no in-betweens. Because of their purpose in the text, the maids must be feminine in nature. They also must visually convey the idea that they are a part of Albert, but one that can never combine with her masculine side. Benmussa calls for them to imitate Albert's movement, which would effectively portray this. I would also have on of them mirror Albert, showing that they are images of each other that can never quite connect. Finally, I think the Ghost Maids could be used as an effective tool for foregrounding Albert's inner desires. I would accomplish this by finding business, blocking, or even fantasy sequences that would feature the maids acting out Albert's desires while Albert works, and vice versa. If I did this, it would be very important to me to portray both Albert herself and the Ghost Maids as Albert alternatively in these sequences, as I would not want to confine her desires to a particular gender role.

The problem of the acting style for Albert herself is an interesting one. Should she be real in order to elicit the sympathy of the audience, or should she be distanced so that the audience may look more objectively at her plight? I believe that Albert is already intrinsically distanced from the outside world. First, because she is in disguise. The real Albert is hidden underneath layer upon layer of masculinity and suppressed emotions. Secondly, I believe she is distanced because of the constant intrusion of George Moore's narration, which is specifically aimed at revealing Albert's "inner feelings". Benmussa puts the narration in just the right places so that the audience can never forget that this is Moore's story, not Albert's. Thusly already distilled down, I believe that the actress playing Albert can portray her from a naturalistic perspective, and still keep the audience from being caught up in a traditional psychoanalytic interpretation of the character.

Costuming, of course, is also key in the portrayal of cross-gendering in the text. But, they also act as a visual representation of the restrictive nature of gender roles. Benmuusa herself has said that Albert is "imprisoned in this costume, which is at the same time armour, yoke and defence. Her costume has become her body."¹⁶ As Harry J. Elam, Jr. explains, "Albert's imprisonment in drag is graphically conveyed in an early scene where she must undress and them later dress onstage. The male attire that she puts on is constricting, hard, heavy, and firm - the male shoes, the waiter's vest, the shirt collar that must be buttoned to the top, the bow tie. The audience witnesses her suit up as if she is donning armour."¹⁷ The women, too, are restricted by their clothing. They are dressed in the uniform of their profession, thus conveying their station in life. Also, they are stuffed into corsets, as was the fashion in the Victorian Age. The corsets not only restrict the movement and breathing of the women wearing them , but they literally construct them into the ideal body shape - at great expense to their health. This, again, shows the artificiality of gender roles, as the "perfect woman" is not attainable naturally.

For me, the most interesting part of the text to work with was the narrative, the framing technique that Benmussa employs. This led to several production ideas. The first of which is my particular favorite: the pop-up book. This is an image that first originated from the idea that, with the narration, the entire play is like a bedtime story, or a children's book. I like it because it visually foregrounds the fact that this is not an event that is actually supposed to be happening, but a tale that is being told by an outside force. It also serves to remind the audience of fairy tales or children's stories that have been passed from generation to generation, which perpetuate gender stereotypes. These stories, which we hold so dear, are historical sources of today's ideas of gender. The pop-up book, unlike the trompe l'oeil backdrop that Benmussa suggests, is a two-dimensional world in three dimensions. This juxtaposition is not unlike our own world in which superimposed gender roles are passed off as natural. Using lighting to make Albert appear alternately as flat as the set and very three-dimensional would provide another outlet for foregrounding Albert's inner desires. Perhaps when she is more in touch with herself, we find her to be disturbingly 3-D, but when George Moore takes over, she is flat again. Finally, a story is something that is tightly controlled, manipulated, and fated. Storybooks always have the same ending. There is not room for change or uncertainty, only stagnation. This reflects the stagnation of Albert's life, in which months go by without any kind of progress.

The frames in the play can be visually represented further through the use of a proscenium stage. It is clear that the audience must be distanced from the action of the play, and that they must know that they are distanced. That is why a proscenium arch theatre would be ideal for this production. Not only would the audience be physically far away from the action, but prosceniums also give a stage the look of a framed picture; pretty, perfect, and settled. Creating a symmetrical world could further this effect. Again, this reflects both the artificiality and stagnation of the piece.

Another way of emphasizing Moore's control over the story is to have an actor physically representing him, rather than just hearing his disembodied voice. My idea is to have the play open with George Moore and Alec physically constructing the hotel, literally opening it up as if it were a pop-up book. Then, perhaps, they could arrange things, like props, to their satisfaction as well. They would have a place to sit, outside of the hotel, throughout the play. The audience would never lose sight of them, but they would always obviously be on the outside of the action. The only problem with this idea is that it ruins the effect of all the men in the play being absent. By taking the men out of the picture, Benmussa allows the audience to focus on the lives of the women. It also makes the men more sinister. If the audience only hears the disembodied voice of a man, they are able to imagine him as being as evil as they like. Putting a face to that voice may give Moore, Alec, and Joe a more compassionate, humanistic quality. The windows that are written into the script may solve this problem. If George and Alec are literally on the outside of the set, looking in through the windows, it conjures up images of peeping toms. They would be seen as intruders into the plays world; criminals even. Still, I am not sure whether I would want to risk humanizing them or not.

The fact that Albert is trapped in a world in which she has no control is further emphasized through the revolving doors in the set. These doors, which often revolve on their own accord, should be isolated and framed, and operate in the "void". "These doors are clearly reflective of Albert's entrapment in a world not of her own creation. She can leave this world through the swinging doors, but they always return her to the inside; they never function as exits or modes of escape."¹⁸ The windows, too, are outlets to the outside world, but are impossible to escape through. The outside world is not hers, it is the place where the controllers of society exist. She does not have the power to exist out there. The only means of escape in Albert's mind are suicide, or financial freedom.

The problem of foregrounding the Marxism in the text is a difficult one. After all, how can the ideas of Marxism become viable production choices? My solution is not to try to direct the play as an argument for Marxism, but as an argument against the system already in place. A lot of this is already implicit in the script. As a group, the actions of the women in this play are all informed by economics. Helen Dawes uses her femininity to try to better her economic status through marriage, Mrs. Baker actually lives inside her work, and is often seen counting money or doing accounts, and Kitty Maccan sells her only asset, her body, in order to survive. The women are also all dressed in the uniforms of their jobs, thus creating a kind of working class chorus, or a proletariat. This idea of women as a social class could be emphasized by using these women as a theatrical chorus. There could be a movement sequence of some kind in which the female hotel workers create, through doing their work, a rhythmic, almost puppet-like "dance". This would establish them as both a cohesive whole, and slaves to the system.

Albert's own plight, sublimating her sexual desire for financial avarice, is an important critique of capitalism. In my production, Props would be an important part of highlighting this idea. Rather than finding herself connecting with other people, Albert clutches, physically and mentally, onto things: money and objects. One important prop would be her notebook, a ledger of sorts in which she carefully records her tips and spending. Another would be a small household object, perhaps a candlestick or a mirror, that she would work with whenever she daydreamed about her little shop. The actress playing Albert would handle them delicately, and lovingly. She would take better care of them than she does herself, or any other person for that matter. It should be clear that these things are the only outlets of her inner feelings. Finally, as she nears her death, she should become outrageously protective of the objects. Afraid that someone will take away the only things she has left, she hides them away where not even she can enjoy them. Albert dies just as she lives her life: working. She is the victim of a system that equates economic wealth with happiness. Unfortunately for Albert, material things won't love you back, only people will.

The structure of this play is very interesting in that things do not so much happen, as they are revealed. Benmussa has, through her re-ordering of climactic events, managed to subvert the cathartic moment of traditional narrative. The facts of Albert's life are known from the beginning. Even the end of the courtship seems inevitable from the start, particularly because of Joe Mackin's influence. Therefore, instead of sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for Albert's secret to be revealed, the audience can sit back and absorb the ideas of the play. Through the cross-gendering, unusual use of narrative, and Marxism of the piece, the audience comes to realize that gender roles are not an ahistorical phenomena, but, instead, the result of history. It has been said that if the phallocentrism that funds our thought was challenged, all the stories would have to be retold.¹⁹ It is true that we cannot go back and undo the work of thousands of years of narrative history, but through directing plays such as Simone Benmussa's The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs, perhaps we can make people can make people start thinking about the origin of gender roles.

Notes

1. Gay Gibson Cima, "Strategies for Subverting the Canon," Upstaging Big Daddy: Directing Theater as if Gender and Race Matter (Ann Arbor, MI: UMP, 1993), 103.

2. Elin Diamond "Refusing the Romanticism of Identity: Narrative Interventions in Churchill, Benmussa, Duras," Theatre Journal 38.3 (October 1988): 273.

3. Jill Dolan, The Feminist Spectator as Critic (Ann Arbor, MI: UMP, 1991), 10.

4. Sue-Ellen Case, "Gender as Play: Simone Benmussa's The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs," Women and Performance Journal 1.2 (Winter 1984): 23.

5. From a class assignment for THEA 493.001: St. Mary's Project Seminar, written by Tony K. Nam

6. Sharon Ammen, "Transforming George Moore: Simone Benmussa's Adaptive Art in The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs," Text and Performance Quarterly 11.4 (October 1991): 308.

7. Benmussa 79.

8. Diamond 276.

9. Diamond 277.

10. Dolan 104.

11. Ammen 310.

12. Dolan 15.

13. Dolan 104.

14. Simone Benmussa, "Introduction to The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs," Benmussa Directs: Playscript 91 (Dallas: Riverrun Press, 1979), 24.

15. Dolan 14.

16. Benmussa 22.

17. Harry J. Elan, Jr., "Visual Representation in The Singular Life of Albert Nobbs," Text and Performance Quarterly 11.4 (October 1991): 314.

18. Ammen 307.

19. Ammen 307.