The House of Bernarda Alba

If politics is about people—specifically the ever-fluctuating power imbalances between people in different situations—then Federico García Lorca was right to focus his “political” work on the domestic: there are no “institutions” more prone to power-struggles and conflict than our own families. This lucid translation by Jo Clifford offers us a timely reappraisal of Lorca’s final play, but it’s also an opportunity to appreciate the depth and clarity given to the text by its all-female cast and director Jenny Sealey, in a stunning co-production between Graeae’s Deaf and disabled cast and Manchester’s Royal Exchange Theatre.

Sealey has brought together a brilliant ensemble, with Kathryn Hunter’s riveting Bernarda as its core; wiry, fierce, sometimes cruel, and yet protective too

According to Wikipedia, the venue is the largest “in the round” theatre-space in the UK, but the Graeae team have filled it easily, despite Liz Ascroft’s set consisting of just seven wooden chairs—placed at the corners of a heptagon, linked to their immediate neighbours by simple illuminated lines and individually designed to reflect the characters of the women who sit on them. There are also two very low stools on one side; for “the staff”, notably Alison Halstead as head maid Poncia, employed by the household for 30 years and almost—just almost–able to speak her mind.

“I am in command here,” Bernarda Alba insists, but even the twice-widowed matriarch is later forced to ask: “Why can’t I kill you with the anger in my eyes?” That most of her daughters’ acts of rebellion are small and inconsequential isn’t the point: whether it’s wearing lipstick, a bright coloured dress or taking off a prosthetic leg, it’s the act itself that’s worrying. No wonder Poncia sees around her “a house at war”.

Sealey has brought together a brilliant ensemble, with Kathryn Hunter’s riveting Bernarda as its core; wiry, fierce, sometimes cruel, and yet protective too, Hunter seems ideal in the role. What Graeae theatre company more generally brings to the production is an added depth; not just a seamless incorporation of British Sign Language interpretation and captioning for the benefit of Deaf and hard-of-hearing audiences, but in using BSL as a dramatic tool. There’s no simpler way for Bernarda to express her power than by turning away from her lip-reading daughters; it’s so simply done, and yet so effective.   

Reviews by Paul F Cockburn

Multiple Venues


Dundee Rep Theatre / Macrobert Arts Centre

The Yellow on the Broom

Underbelly, Bristo Square

Tom Neenan: It's Always Infinity

Assembly George Square Studios

Police Cops in Space

Gilded Balloon Rose Theatre

Rik Carranza: Still a Fan

Gilded Balloon Rose Theatre





The Blurb

“We will brick up the doors and board up the windows. We won’t let in a breath of air from the street.”

Bernarda’s husband is dead. Now she alone rules her household and the lives of her five daughters. A period of eight years mourning will be observed without contact with the outside world and the men who might bring them ruin.

That is except for Angustias, whose inheritance has attracted a wealthy local suitor. As the wedding approaches, Bernarda struggles to retain her suffocating grip on the family and on these women whose appetite for defiance is growing.

Lorca’s final masterpiece is a bitter and darkly comic tragedy that charts the tyranny, jealousy and desperate struggle for freedom that will tear Bernarda and her daughters apart.

In a landmark co-production, Graeae bring their unique focus on accessibility and different theatrical languages to bear on this spare and full-blooded translation of the play by Jo Clifford.