The Theater of Shadows: Conor McPherson’s Dance with the Unknown
There’s something profoundly Irish about discussing ghosts on a sunny morning, isn’t there? It’s as if the brightness of the day only heightens our fascination with the shadows. And when it comes to playwright Conor McPherson, those shadows aren’t just metaphorical—they’re the very fabric of his work. Sitting in the Gate Theatre’s Georgian rooms, McPherson and I delve into the supernatural, the human condition, and the frustrating shrug of a three-star review.
The Stage as a Metaphor for Life
One thing that immediately stands out is McPherson’s ability to connect the unknown with the deeply personal. He says, ‘We live in a situation we can’t understand… none of us know what is going on, whatsoever.’ Personally, I think this is where his genius lies. The stage, for him, isn’t just a platform for storytelling—it’s a metaphor for life itself. The pool of light in the darkness? That’s us, fumbling through existence, trying to make sense of the void around us.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how McPherson drags that darkness onto the stage. It’s not just about what’s said; it’s about the silence, the subtext, the things we can’t quite name. In my opinion, this is why his plays resonate so deeply. They don’t offer answers—they mirror our own confusion, our own search for meaning.
The Collaborative Magic of Theater
McPherson’s process is as intriguing as his themes. He describes writing a play as starting with an image, a feeling, which gradually expands like candyfloss on a stick. What many people don’t realize is how much of his work relies on collaboration. He writes with actors in mind, creating spaces for them to launch words that carry weight, suggestion, and complexity.
From my perspective, this is where theater becomes transcendent. It’s not just about the playwright’s vision; it’s about the actors’ ability to tap into something instinctive, almost telepathic. McPherson calls it ‘poetic depth of telepathic communication,’ and I couldn’t agree more. It’s this alchemy that makes theater so powerful—and so unpredictable.
The Frustration of Indifference
Now, let’s talk about those three-star reviews. McPherson admits he’s developed ‘scar tissue’ over the years, but he still bristles at the shrug of indifference. Personally, I think this is a universal truth for creators: a scathing review might sting, but at least it’s a reaction. Indifference? That’s soul-crushing.
What this really suggests is that art, at its core, is about connection. A three-star review feels like a missed opportunity—a failure to engage, to provoke, to move. If you take a step back and think about it, isn’t that what we all want from art? To feel something, anything, in a world that often feels numb?
The Pursuit of Balance
McPherson’s philosophy on happiness is as nuanced as his plays. He talks about finding the ‘happy medium,’ a concept rooted in Aristotle but deeply personal. ‘Not too happy, not too sad,’ he tells his daughter. It’s about balance, about being busy but not overwhelmed, ambitious but not ruthless.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how this philosophy seeps into his work. His plays are bittersweet, blending loneliness, regret, and grief with moments of beauty and connection. It’s not about resolving these tensions—it’s about acknowledging them, living with them.
The Catharsis of Theater
Finally, what does McPherson want his audience to feel? He uses the word ‘catharsis,’ but it’s more than that. He wants them to recognize something, to be moved, to feel locked into a moment—even if it’s just for 30 seconds.
In my opinion, this is the magic of theater. It’s not about delivering a message or wrapping things up neatly. It’s about creating an experience that transcends the stage, the actors, even the audience itself. It’s about tapping into something ‘underneath the play, and beyond the play.’
As The Brightening Air takes the stage at the Gate Theatre, I can’t help but wonder: will it be a pool of light or a shadow? Will it provoke or shrug? One thing’s for sure—Conor McPherson will keep dancing with the unknown, and we’ll be there, watching, feeling, and maybe, just maybe, understanding a little more about ourselves.
