SEPTEMBER 20, 7:00 PM, Main Hall
Show duration: 130 min.
Age limit: 14+
Excelsior Theater Bucharest

by Franz Kafka
collective translation

direction and adaptation: Yuri Kordonsky
set designers: Oana Micu
lighting design: Cristian Șimon, Victor Pâşlari
sound design: Andrei Doboș
assistant directors: Vasea Blohat, Șerban Suciu
scenography assistant: Miruna Rădulescu

Distribution:
Gregor: Marius Turdeanu, Matei Arvunescu, Alex Popa, Dan Pughineanu, Mircea Alexandru Baluta
Grete: Oana Predescu
Mother: Mihaela Trofimov
Father: Bogdan Nechifor
Maid: Dana Marineci
Chief Administrator: Mihai Mitrea
First tenant: Dan Clucinschi
Second tenant: Dragoș Spahiu
Third tenant: Ovidiu Ușvat

A production about fragility, transformation and the power to look into the eyes of what scares us. A show about all of us.

„"Kafka's famous short story, The Metamorphosis, hits you like a slap in the face. A man wakes up transformed into an insect. More precisely, into a Chrysopa perla larva, an insect from the Chrysopidae family and the Chrysopinae subfamily. No explanation. No escape. Brutal. Absurd. Gregor Samsa, an exemplary son and trusted traveling salesman, becomes an untouchable body overnight. His family, frightened at first, gradually erases him, silently, from their own lives, while, beyond the window, the world goes on its way, unconcerned. Just like us, every morning, Gregor wakes up in a world where floors shake, walls crumble, doors no longer open, and silence spreads like a disease. And he remains trapped, like us, between who he thought he was and who he fears he has become. Our version of The Metamorphosis is not about an insect, but about each of us. About how beauty and cruelty, love and disgust, rupture and harmony can live together in any family, in any home, in any world. Kafka leaves this wound open. We keep it the same. A man wakes up transformed into an insect, a Chrysopa perla larva. The world does not notice: it is broken, indifferent, dull. And yet, somewhere, hidden in all this, a fragile beauty is born. Because no metamorphosis is complete until it completes its cycle. Kafka's metamorphosis is not a metaphor. It is a mirror. As Nabokov said: every man has wings – if only he knew how to open them…” – Yuri Kordonsky