UNFINISHED PORTRAIT OF AKHMATOVA
You were bitterness, lies, a bill of goods.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966), one of a handful of great Russian poets of the 20th century, led a life of great hardship and high drama against the backdrop of postrevolutionary Russia. She was in favor, out of favor, and in favor again–renounced and denounced by her own government, then dusted off and saluted. She led a life that aroused gossip, innuendo, and myth. Reportedly a woman of regal bearing, great beauty, queenly rectitude, and quiet strength, Akhmatova inspired many poets and artists to create portraits of her and dedicate poems to her; in her later years she was seen as a sort of keeper of the poetic flame. The dramas of her tumultuous life, and the reasons she was so beloved in her own country (and finally internationally), would make for a classic story in the tradition of the poet’s biography.
There is so much that director Jill Daly might have examined in Unfinished Portrait of Akhmatova, yet this impressionistic biography, made up entirely of the Russian’s poems and songs, is so abstract and sketchy that the idea behind the project remains obscure. Portrait pays painstaking attention to production values: it fairly sparkles with superficial beauty, given the beautiful original music of Ilya Levinson (who also played piano, accompanied by Martine Benmann on cello), adroit lighting and elegant set by Christiaan Pretorius, and brilliant costume design by Christie Munch. But when one looks for the motivation behind Wendy Parman’s arch mannerisms as Akhmatova, or the reason she chases a seductive, languorous, nymphlike muse (Munch–who has a propensity to choreograph herself into a postmodern corner, with way too many slumps, slouches, and squats), one is left with a riddle.
