At first glance, Henrik Ibsen’s “The Master Builder” is simple: an architect, obsessed with the younger generation in his wake, channels his neurosis into the young women in his life, ultimately leading to the demise he feared. It’s been performed hundreds of times, in almost as many languages, and is widely known as one of Ibsen’s most accomplished works. But it’s also known as one of his most perplexing. “In February 1893,” according to the Guardian, “the first London production at the Trafalgar Square Theatre met with puzzled incomprehension, even among Ibsen’s supporters.” One critic called the production a “pointless, incoherent, and absolutely silly piece.”
“I had a love/hate relationship with Mr. Ibsen for a long time,” said Andre Belgrader, director of a new production of “The Master Builder” that stars John Turturro and premiered May 12 at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. “I could see that the play was fabulous, but I thought, my god, if people say these words, sometimes so heavy and intellectual that it gave me a headache, I’m in trouble.”
When it comes to Ibsen, a headache is an understatement. His plays are dark psychological studies, thin on plot and emotionally exhausting; productions tend to lean toward the histrionic and veer into melodrama. Reading the early, dry, translations of Ibsen’s work can be like trudging, all alone, through the icy Norwegian tundra.
“The first time I read ‘The Master Builder,’ there was nothing about that play that attracted me to it,” said Wrenn Schmidt, who plays the beguiling Hilde, seducer and destroyer of the main character. For the actress, the new translation by British playwright David Edgar turned the play around. “It’s a lot less wordy and I feel like, although the heart of the play is still there, at the same time the words don’t feel strange in your mouth, like you’re saying something in a convoluted manner.”
“The Master Builder,” like many of Ibsen’s later works, straddles a line between the naturalism of the period and a heightened, dream-like atmosphere. This unique quality has caused proponents from both sides to champion his work, while others are left bewildered. “I’m more attracted to the plays that have more myth and symbol,” Belgrader said. “I’m not attracted to the kitchen-sink realism. ‘The Master Builder’ is a very interesting combination of both.”
For the new production, the set design, by Santo Loquasto, is stripped down, rejecting the elaborate, naturalistic sets that Ibsen, like his contemporary Chekhov, hated in his time. Belgrader refused to elaborate, but promised there will be one surprise he’s extremely excited about.
The director previously collaborated with Turturro in 2008 on Samuel Beckett’s “Endgame,” and in 2011 on Chekhov’s “The Cherry Orchard.” Their relationship is one of theatrical symbiosis, a true collaboration built over a long friendship. When the chance arrived to tackle Ibsen, Belgrader could think of nobody more suited for the role of Halvard Solness, the architect at the center of the play, than Turturro.
“He’s a powerhouse, but he’s a wildman, which is what this part needs,” Belgrader said. “There’s something very deeply wild about the part, and John can go there. Not too many actors can, and that’s amazing.”
Belgrader paused, before adding, with a laugh: “He is the master builder.”