The play Dorian, directed by Babis Matenzidis, premieres on Saturday, May 9, at opbo studio in Piraeus. It is a visual performance inspired by Oscar Wilde’s iconic and ever-relevant “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” with themes centered on narcissism, beauty, the soul, violence, abuse, and morality.

“I would give everything! Even my very soul!” says Dorian, referring to eternal youth. In an era where other qualities of the human soul—and of life itself—are sacrificed on the altar of external “eternal youth,” the play Dorian strikes a chord within us and compels us to reflect on who we are, what motivates us, what we truly desire, and how far we are willing to go to achieve it.

DIRECTOR’S NOTE

I’m concerned about what we wish for, what we ask for, and at what cost. A life full of “if onlys,” for which we don’t know the exact cost or the consequences. We see only what we might gain and rarely what we’ll lose or what we’ll have to sacrifice. Perhaps because we believe that the time to pay—for the consequences—will be slow in coming. Perhaps, deep down, we think it will never come. Like a small child begging for a new toy and promising anything to get it. So too does Dorian, like a small child, wish for something without the slightest inkling of what the consequences might be. “To remain forever young and beautiful, and let my portrait grow old.”

This constant return of Narcissus—or rather, his ever-present influence—pulls the strings and steers things in specific directions. I’ve always wondered how it is that, even though Narcissus is normally an example to be avoided, he has preoccupied people throughout the centuries and continues to preoccupy and inspire poets, painters, sculptors, writers… This, however, suits and serves the system, the people. We insist on the image, on the surface. We work and do everything for it. We stay there without moving on to the essence. We probably believe that we, too, have a portrait that will bear the full weight of our sins. The decay, the ugliness, and old age. And we will remain outwardly waxen likenesses of ourselves. And of who we once were. With the same wrapping but worn-out contents. “And that is all,” as Dorian says and believes.

Manipulative people. Puppets. Poison that becomes a seed. A seed that becomes poison. How does childlike innocence turn into cunning, malice, and wickedness? How do the most sensitive and fragile creatures become hard and impenetrable as concrete? Responsibility for our actions goes out the window. Pleasure becomes the primary and sole purpose. The fear that the rot of the soul might be revealed leads to the creation of an external, artificial image. We become dolls. Our excess leads to the opposite results. What, then, is the beauty that will save the world? Certainly not this one. The hands that gently play the piano, the hands that tenderly touch a flower, become deadly weapons; they murder—in many ways. How far does freedom extend in the pursuit of pleasure? What happens when the “endless curiosity” for life and the pursuit of pleasure exist in the “wrong” way? Where do they lead us? “Let me remain forever young, and let this portrait grow old! For this moment—and only for this!—I would give everything! Truly, there would be nothing in the world I would not give to make this happen! Even my very soul!”

How many times have we wished for something similar, though in different ways and with different meanings?

Bambis Matenzidis – Biography

Bambis Matenzidis was born and raised in Thessaloniki. He studied Theology and Theater. For many years, he collaborated with the historic experimental theater group of Thessaloniki, “Schema Ektos Axona,” and with the National Theater of Northern Greece . In recent years, he has collaborated with the Athens & Epidaurus Festival, the Drama International Short Film Festival (DISFF), the ANIMASYROS International Animation Festival, as well as with the production company Open Borders Productions and opbo studio.

The play Dorian, translated by Eva Georgousopoulou, is the third production he has directed.