Andrea Jonasson Strehler, the fairy of the North

You think about Ibsen every now and then. Especially in winter. Think that for us too everything is like then, the only difference is that we have lost grace along the way. So everything is even more miserable. Rougher. Therefore, to think of Ibsen in some way is a relief. A prop. You think about Ibsen every now and then. And you remember when you read it as a child. You read it like a novel without the descriptions. A novel all dialogue. It’s also his fault if you find yourself loving the Theater so much. Ibsen and his bloodless faces. His elongated profiles of him. The madmen with his mind cluttered with ideas and illusions. I of him obsessed with the sea and with God. His lies. And the ghosts of him. The past similar to a huge boulder hurled into the waves by an ambitious giant. Stone in the neck that pulls to the bottom. Everyday more. More every hour. You think of Ibsen while you know that the fairy of the North has returned to our theatres. The Lady who is the very personification of the Theater: Andrea Jonasson Strehler.

«Theatre is your vocation, your everything. You were born for him» wrote her adored husband Giorgio Strehler. A phrase that comes to mind when Andrea Jonasson appears on stage, a star materialized from the dark. With her natural elegance. With the unmistakable voice. With the perfect Italian that preserves the mysterious musicality of the German. Andrew. Which he knows how to weave and undo with a wave of his hand. Which he raises and lands with a movement of the eyes. She laughing desperately. She crying happily. To say and give the most diverse meanings, an intonation, a glance, a pause that falls like a sentence and creates a magnetic silence is enough. Andrew of Brecht. by Lessing. by Pirandello. by Goldoni. Andrea who is back in the theater in Italy and is an unexpected gift. In a trajectory of possible reflections, the idea of ​​love of poets and certain paintings infused with light makes room. So suddenly something, which of course you’ve always known, now surprises you like a revelation. You realize that Giorgio Strehler’s magic has not been lost. He will always be like behind the scenes whenever Andrea will be on stage. The fact is evident. And there is no objection. There is no way to doubt it. It’s their enchantment. Marvel that takes place in Andrea’s acting.

The show currently on tour is a reinterpretation of «Spettri», signed by Rimas Tuminas. It feeds on ghosts. He orchestrates them. He summons them. He gathers them around a close dramaturgy table. And it is Andrea Jonasson who holds the key to the mystery, the ultimate and profound meaning of the text, its unveiling. That pure essence that she manages to draw from the great hubbub of truth and falsehood that is always in the theatre. Andrea Jonasson is an attentive metronome and a very sensitive seismograph. She evolves the character while preserving precise features outlined with a burin and branded in the fire. She chisels and carves. Let determination and tiredness appear. She makes small flirtations and abysses of bitterness clear. You demonstrate without contradiction detachment and depth of feeling. After all, upstream of any interpretative choice of hers there is culture. Deep, noble, ancient. The very meaning of Europe that you beat like a big velvet heart. That she reasons and lives with words that are prodigies of new meaning, of renewed discovery. Watching Andrea Jonasson on stage, one gets the impression of reading “Spectri” for the first time. Previous readings, if any, do not count because you are now making this work of Ibsen unpublished. Cleared of superstructures. Precious truth.