The Birds by Aristophanes
(an essay about the meeting between an ancient text and a contemporary time)
Antonella Cornici[1]
The Birds by Aristophanes
(an essay about the meeting between an ancient text and a contemporary time)
Abstract
The Birds by Aristophanes remains, after two millennia, one of the most vivid political satires of the ancient world. Aristophanes speaks simultaneously about politics and dream, about the need for escape and the impossibility of attaining happiness in a world full of compromises.
Staging The Birds in Georgia, at the Rustavi Theatre, became a direct confrontation with this text: my first directing experience in this country and, at the same time, the rediscovery of an author who demands not only interpretation but also a stance.
Keywords: Aristophanes, theatre, Rustavi, performance, directing
Old Comedy, known primarily through the plays of Aristophanes (44 comedies, of which 11 have survived to this day), is deeply connected to the political evolution of democratic Athens. This theatrical form is defined by a direct social and political satire, in which contemporary events, institutions, and public figures become objects of ridicule and scenic critique. Aristophanes did not hesitate to attack influential political figures of his time with remarkable vehemence. Attempts by certain leaders to restrict the right to criticize those in power ultimately failed, with the Dionysian tradition and the conventions of comic theatre playing a crucial role in preserving this freedom.
Within this historical and aesthetic context, ”The Birds” by Aristophanes remains one of the most radical satires of Antiquity. Written more than two millennia ago, the play continues to generate contemporary interpretations through its investigation of the temptation of utopia, the vulnerability of idealism, and the inevitable corruption of a dream once it is transformed into a political project. Aristophanes lucidly captures a fundamental contradiction of the human condition: the desire to build a better world and the inability to escape the logic of compromise that inevitably governs every form of power.
When I accepted the challenge of staging this text at the Rustavi Theatre in Georgia, I understood that, beyond the symbolic significance of the moment—being my first directing project in this country—the true challenge lay in the encounter with Aristophanes himself. During my university studies, I had worked on fragments from ”The Birds”, but returning to the text after years of stage experience revealed an unexpected complexity.
To direct Aristophanes does not merely mean translating an ancient comedy into a contemporary stage language, but rather discovering a meaning that can speak to today’s audience. Without a clear concept, the text remains a document destined for the library, not for the stage.
During the documentation process, I discovered that ”The Birds” offers remarkable directorial freedom. One can create a studio-style production, focused on a small number of characters, or a large-scale staging with spectacular or minimalist scenography. This malleability makes the text alive and open, but also dangerous: too much freedom demands a clear and consciously assumed vision. Moreover, any contemporary staging risks being judged through the lens of tradition. Working with Aristophanes in a different cultural context—in another language, in another country—intensifies both the stakes and the responsibility. The Georgian experience, however, offered me a lesson in theatre and in life: the courage to remain faithful to a personal vision, to seek the living meaning of the text rather than its consecrated form.
An essential directorial direction was the decoding of the space of the “land of the birds” and an understanding of the nature of these beings. Who are they, in fact? Birds? Humans? Hybrid creatures? In my vision, this intermediary space, situated between humans and gods, becomes a metaphor for an ultra-technologized world—a civilization created by humankind and governed by its own inventions.
The birds are artificial entities—robots or synthetic organisms—born from our desire to control and shape reality. Humanity creates these beings in the name of progress, yet this same creative power also contains the seed of destruction. The world we invent can turn against us, just as any ideal can, at times, become an instrument of domination.
In the end, the central theme remains humanity itself—humaneness, friendship, loyalty, fragility. What does it mean to be human in a world where everything can be programmed? Where does friendship end and where does the struggle for power begin? Aristophanes forces us to look into the mirror: human nature remains the same—unpredictable, contradictory, and endlessly fascinating.
Empty space became my primary aesthetic choice - not as an absence, but as a challenge. The scenic “void” is an abyss the actor must inhabit, breathe, and exist within. Without scenery, the actor is confronted with the self. Everything becomes essential: the body, the voice, presence.
The production at Rustavi Theatre unfolds in an open space, defined only by ropes, light bulbs, and air—lots of air. And this air, paradoxically, can suffocate. When there is too much freedom, points of reference are lost. The actor must fill the emptiness with emotion, relationship, and play. In my view, the most powerful theatrical images are born precisely from this void. Every gesture gains weight, every silence becomes meaningful. It is an aesthetic of simplicity, but also a discipline of presence.
Working with the Georgian actors became a dialogue between formal freedom and the rigor of the Stanislavskian system. ”The Birds” collided with Stanislavski’s logic—the fundamental questions: where? when? why? who?—which, within a suspended space, seemed almost meaningless. I rediscovered the method precisely in order to move beyond it, sometimes recognizing myself in my own experience as an actress in Hausvater’s productions, suspended between realism and expressionism, between the concrete and poetry. In the end, theatre proved to be our common language. Beyond borders and idioms, it was emotion that translated everything.
About people, not birds
”The Birds” is, in essence, about people - about our dual nature, capable of love and hatred, of creation and destruction, and about the loss of self that comes with power.
Aristophanes remains relevant precisely because he shows that nothing has changed: over thousands of years, human beings have created new worlds and explored the universe, yet have remained the same in emotion, desire, and fragility.
”The Birds” is not, paradoxically, a play about birds, but about us—about the way we dream of being better, more just, more free, and yet repeat the same mistakes.
”The Birds” in Georgia will remain, for me, the most beautiful and the most difficult artistic adventure. It was an abyss filled with air—a scenic void into which I leapt together with the eleven actors who became almost a family to me. In that suspended space between cultures, languages, and traditions, I discovered not only the meaning of a production, but also the meaning of a profound human experience.
Ancient theatre has the gift of bringing life’s trials back precisely when you believe you have already overcome them. Yet theatre, like life itself, never offers a final answer. It is an art of continuous learning. ”The Birds” was such a trial for me—of courage, patience, and trust in humanity. Because beyond flights and utopias, Aristophanes’ message remains the same: no matter how far we fly, we always remain human.
[1] Director, PHD university lecturer at” George Enescu” National University of Arts, Faculty of Theatre, Performing Arts - Direction