A heady mix of intrigue, passion and sexual politics, Heresy of Love is an ambitious play, and this BOVTS production, ably directed by Jenny Stephens, certainly does it justice. At its heart lies this question: should a life of religious contemplation demand that one sets aside all intellectual enquiry and artistic creativity? Juana Inés de la Cruz was a celebrated scholar, poet and dramatist in late 17th century Mexico, yet she was also an Hieronymite nun. Heresy of Love tells of her struggle to meet the demands of her faith while still pursuing her insatiable desire for learning, and shows how she was eventually forced to abandon her books and see them burnt. In Elizabeth Rose’s beautiful designed set we see how the great metal grill that separates the convent from the secular world becomes the bars of an oppressive prison in which Sister Juana’s dangerous capacity for thought must be confined. ‘I have renounced the world; must I renounce my mind?’ she cries.
The chilling answer is in the affirmative, and it comes from the newly elected Archbishop of Mexico, a self-flagellating, misogynistic zealot who sees all poetry and drama as vanity and all women as a threat against his piety. Sister Juana is not without powerful allies, for her work is greatly admired in the Court by the Viceroy and Vicereine, but ultimately she is cruelly betrayed, a victim of political scheming and the selfish desires of those she thinks she can trust.
This is a wordy play with a number of weighty themes, but in this production it seldom seems too heavily freighted with ideas. The cast give each character a distinct individuality, and there are many shifts in mood. There is the comedy of Harry Egan’s Don Hernando, a self-regarding ladies man who all too easily leads Sister Juana’s naïve, unworldly niece astray; or there’s the much darker duplicity of Dominic Allen’s Bishop Santa Cruz, who does not let his genuine admiration for Sister Juana stop him from betraying her in order to further his own ends. As Sister Juana, Erin Doherty conveys both a love of God and a love of ideas with equal passion.
Yet there are also moments of quiet tenderness and gentle humour, particularly in the scenes with her devoted slave-girl Juanita, played with great charm by Tilly Steele. In contrast, Joel Macey’s Archbishop is a monster of frozen certitude, proud of his utter lack of imagination and seemingly indifferent to anyone’s suffering, including his own. But he is scared of Juana, scared of her as a woman and scared that her spark of individuality might ignite a much bigger fire that could destroy all at he stands for. The final, thrillingly well-acted confrontation between Sister Juana and the Archbishop is the climax of the play, where we see her questioning, intelligent and deeply personal faith collide head-on with the rigid authority of the Church.
This is a thoroughly enjoyable production of a powerful play. Thoroughly recommended. ★★★★☆ Mike Whitton 07/03/15
Photos by Graham Burke
