Scene 2
(Long pause – A brief interlude of a few bars of classical music, a string quartet perhaps, in the studio the acoustics of the room are altered to sound like they are coming from an enclosed space)
VOICE: Whoahh. What happened there? One minute I was coming to the realization that my existence is, well, non-existent, and the next Basil, the man who created me, covers me with a blanket and leaves me for a significant time longer than the duration of my entire life. Why would he do that? He stared at me with such adoration and then cast me a side like some soiled paintbrush. And now, where am I? This is not the room that housed Basil’s works, the place where he was hit with inspiration, the place that I cast my eye over before anything else. This is a barren, misshapen shack of a room. Is it an attic? If it is, is it Basil’s? If I weren’t a painting I’d call out. Hang on, how did that blanket come off?
(sound of a foot tapping)
VOICE: Someone is here! Basil? I hope it is. I don’t like this place, I need something familiar. I miss the aromatic scent of Basil’s quarters, the sensual colours of the peeling walls, the bustling noise of the city streets outside the window.
(footsteps)
VOICE: (sharp intake of breath) No! It can’t be! The dark, glossy hair, the slender, bearded cheekbones, the thin, delicate lips. Your eloquent walk, haughty stance, your wealthy attire. I have never seen you before, yet I know you so well. No, you aren’t Basil. You are me. Or rather, I am you. Dorian Gray. We are brothers of beauty; companions of exquisiteness, acquaintances of perfection. (tone switches to menacing) Adversaries of envy. You don’t look at me with the care and love Basil did. You look at me with jealousy and bitterness. Yet you are staring straight into my eyes. Never a flinch or flicker of your gaze. Why? Why can the man who created me and paid me so much undivided attention have so much less emotion towards me than a man who clearly resents me? What is it about me that you are so transfixed by? Is that a tear? Are you crying Dorian? Oh my, you are. You, the icon of elegance, the one that catches the eye of all, the one that inspired Basil to create his greatest ever work, is breaking down in a lowly attic with no witnesses but a painting, of himself. What could make such a man cry? Well, I would say cry, (pause) except now you are bellowing. Uncontrollably.
DORIAN: (sobbed) Why?
VOICE: Why what? What do you want to know? And why are you asking questions to a painting that won’t answer you? Why are you treating me like a human being?
DORIAN: (footsteps) Why do you torment me? How is it that you can show me the consequences of my sins, but you can’t?!
VOICE: But who can’t? The mirror? Now you are asking the mirror questions. Have you gone insane? And what do you mean “show me the consequences of my sins”. How have I shown you the consequences of your sins? You can’t hear me!
(a shout of anger, and a crack of glass)
Dorian calm down! You can’t punch a mirror! You are bleeding profusely and have seven years of bad luck to cope with now too!
(heavy footsteps and the slam of a door)
Oh my. I can see myself! Through the random cracks in the mirror, I can see myself! This is amazing! I look distorted though; my face is crinkled and, well, ugly. It must be the cracks distorting the reflection. The way Lord Henry described me I am the most beautiful painting of them all! But wait, those cracks aren’t distorting the image. What, why am I so hideous?! What has happened? Is this mirror lying to me? Is it trapped as a spectator of the world, unable to interact with anyone or anything? Like me? But no, mirrors can’t lie. Then they wouldn’t be mirrors. They would be pictures. This mirror is telling the truth. I am repulsive. My beauty has evaporated with the rivers, blown away with the wind, disintegrated with the logs on the fire. But why? Why has this happened? How can a creation of such a gifted artist lose its magnificence so instantly? Dorian. He said something. “Why do you torment me? How is it that you can show me the consequences of my sins, but you can’t?!” Does this mean...? No. It can’t be. Dorian’s sins are eating away at his beauty, scratching away at his handsome surface and revealing his inner wickedness. Except it isn’t doing it to him, its doing it to me. And the only way he knows what his actions are doing to him is by looking at me. He is a lie, and I am his only truth. The mirror can lie.
(Hurried footsteps, the opening and closing of a door)
What now Dorian? You going to punch me? What’s that? What’s that in your hand?
DORIAN: It killed the painter; it can kill the painter’s work.
VOICE: What? It killed the painter? You killed the painter?! Basil. Basil is dead. And you killed him. You sinful beast, you wretched scoundrel, you horrible, repulsive, evil man! And now you are going to kill me? Why Dorian? Because I am the truth, I remind you of all you’ve done; I am the only surviving remnants of your past?
DORIAN: I can kill the past, and when that is dead, I will be free.
I can kill this monstrous soul-life, and without its hideous warnings,
I will be at peace.
VOICE: The strangest thing Dorian. You’ve changed. You have that knife in your hand, are about to kill the only thing left of your, and Basil’s past, and you are calm. Since that first time I set my eyes on you, this is the first time you have been calm. It suits you Dorian. You could have been a good man. A great man. Go on, destroy your past. And change, become the man you could have become. This is your chance Dorian. Let go of me, and your sins. Kill me Dorian.
(The sound of rushed steps, a cry, and a crash)
MAID 1: (calls from a far) Sir? Is all well? I heard a crash.
MAID 2: (whispered) Shall I go up?
MAID 1: (whispered) He might not appreciate a maid interrupting him
MAID 2: (whispered) He might be in trouble, I’m going up
MAID 1: (whispered) Wait, I’ll come
(Footsteps up stairs)
MAID 1: Oh my god! Who is that retched man on the floor! Through the wrinkles and distorted features, it almost looks like Mr. Gray! Oh my it is! It’s Dorian! He’s dead!
MAID 2: He looks so different! He looks old, and, hideous! What happened to his beauty?
MAID 1: What a tragedy. He’s lost his life and people now may forget his magnificent radiance, especially if they see him in this state
MAID 2: No, look, people won’t forget. Not with a painting of him, not with a painting as beautiful as that
1977
Commentary
The base text of my transformation is “The picture of Dorian Gray” by Oscar Wilde. His wit and strong philosophies are what have cemented him as one of my favourate author/playwrights, and this was his only Novel. Initially, I decided to play on Wilde’s love for wit, even in his darkest works, and transformed the piece into a comic modernization of the original. Unfortunately, this became more like a parody than a transformation, and I decided to go about it in a different manner. I pondered the idea of writing in the perspective of a certain character in the play, the original having been written in 3rd person, and was inspired by the thought of writing from the perspective of the painting. This would create a unique narrator with the omniscience of a 3rd person narrator, but the feelings and revelations of a 1st person. The humour created by this oblivious omniscience also has pragmatics of a darker undertone, it is a painting trapped alone in its own world.
The original was written in 1890, and I decided to keep it in the same time period. I ensured my transformation was appropriate to this period in a number of ways. I used archaic and outdated lexis, e.g. “gentlemen”, and syntactical inversions, e.g. “Is all well?”. Also, I made references to 19th century culture, “the horses in the street”, and modes of address expected in the time period “Sir”, “Mr. Gray”. This would not only back up the idea of the same events being narrated by an alternative view, but add a sense of realism to an otherwise highly stylized and symbolic text. The main point of the original is of Dorian’s sinful activities, and the consequences of them. His acts were shocking and immoral in the context of 1890s London society, but perhaps not as much so in modern times. I therefore decided that the painting would be unawares of his acts, only knowing he had done something bad. This would mean the point of my transformation would not be Dorian’s acts, but the consequences of them, particularly on a vulnerable and anxious being such as the painting. This also gave the audience the opportunity to decide for themselves what Dorian was doing, whether thinking in the context of his time, the context of theirs, or not at all.
The controversy that “A Picture of Dorian Gray” caused influenced Oscar Wilde to include a Preface, where at the end he famously said “all art is quite useless”. This encouraged me to bring out the idea that as useless as art may seem, it does have deeper meanings. Though in reality my story is unrealistic, it does symbolize the irony of Wilde’s quote. Though he has claimed art is quite useless, the novel that follows it is in fact, art. I decided on the form of my text after I had written it, as I felt its true audience and the way it reached them would only become clear once I could read it for myself. The text is sound based, and would need to be read to the audience to reach the greatest response. As it is spoken by a painting, a dramatic monologue would be ineffective, and I thus felt that a radio drama would be its best form. I then went back and added speaking directions, including tone of voice, tempo, volume and particularly emotion. The audience can then picture the painting to be as beautiful as their minds can create, not restricted by the abilities of a painter attempting to impersonate Oscar Wilde’s vision.
My text takes place during two scenes, the first takes place just before the novel starts while Basil is still painting, the second takes place during the final scene of the entire play. The distance between these scenes in the original would have been about 18 years, yet in the mind of the painting it feels like just a short moment. This surreal time change was necessary in my piece, as the impacting moments of the paintings existence are only in these two scenes. While I considered having a scene where the painting feels itself transforming from a beautiful image to a repulsive one, I think that this would have broken the feeling of obliviousness in the painting. If it became aware of the sins Dorian had committed then its dialogue in the final scene would have been much less spontaneous and emotional. To combat this, I had Dorian reveal the painting from under a blanket that it had been hidden under since it had been painted by Basil. Whether the painting had been uncovered for any time in those 18 years but not come to life, or not, I left to be decided by the listener.
My piece has both a direct audience and an indirect audience, the direct audience being the actor who is to read the script, and the indirect audience being the listeners of the radio play. My target listeners for the piece would be educated readers who had already delved into the works of Oscar Wilde. They would be the most appreciative of an alternative version of an original, and would be encouraged to think about the novel in a different manner. The hoped response to this text would be one of empathy with the painting, being engulfed by its monologue and feeling the true emotion of the text.
The painting’s dialogue brings through a number of emotions based on the birth of a new being, which in the context of human beings is the birth of a newborn baby. I studied a number of texts with theories as to the emotions a baby goes through in its first moments of life.
The first key one is shock and surprise. To be suddenly withdrawn from your warm comfortable home of the past 9 months is a traumatic experience, and I wanted to replicate this experience through the eyes of a mature and educated speaker. If had brought to life the painting with the mind of a baby, it would have made for a less than interesting text. I therefore gave my painting an eloquent speaking voice with features of symbolic and creative language. I brought the feature of shock through in the language by using short, quick paced sentences consisting of only 3 or 4 words at a time. I also enthusiastically punctuated the opening section, heightening the speaker’s emotion. There are a number of broken sentences, “I need…WOW!”, hesitations, “I must be a…thing”, and unnatural lexis, “Whoahh”, featured, which represent how agitated and anxious the painting is, particularly in contrast to the composed and sophisticated language used by the painting later in the text.
The next recorded emotion of newborns is the instant attachment to the mother. I represented this emotion in the painting’s love for Basil, his painter and essentially, his creator. Repeatedly throughout the script the painting calls for Basil, whether he is not present, not within view, or even not answering him. The violent verbal attack on Dorian when he finds out he murdered Basil points towards obsession with the artist. The painting clearly becomes frustrated when Basil doesn’t interact with him, repeating itself and bombarding Basil with questions it knows won’t be answered. The final emotion studies show to be found in a newborn is the seeking of new things. These may be sounds, colours, textures, but all can only be experienced from a relatively mobile state. I attempted to copy this in the painting’s attitude. With every body part or sense gained, there was huge delight and in some ways relief, quickly followed by the desire for the next. The fact that in real life paintings cannot experience these senses adds to the excitement for not just the painting, but the listener too. The seeking of new senses is also a recurring theme in the original, with Dorian becoming obsessed with life’s many pleasures and his experience of them all. The painting’s similar attitude in my piece is symbolic of Dorian’s life and downfall, and puts his philosophy in the context of someone/something that hadn’t experienced anything at all.
In the second and final scene, the emotions remain the same but the painting has become more composed and enlightened. This is reflected in the language, which has become more complex and sophisticated. In the opening section, the description of what can be seen is merely a man with a brush, the sentences being broken and rushed as it attempts to seek more information. In the second scene, the description of what had been there is much more descriptive; “the aromatic scent of Basil’s quarters, the sensual colours of the peeling walls, the bustling noise of the city streets…”. The use of expressive adjectives, the rule of 3, and intellectual lexis (quarters, aromatic, sensual) not only shows the more composed nature of the painting, but also its yearning for the place in which it was created.
The nature of the paintings attempted interaction with other beings develops throughout the script. It begins by desperately trying to communicate with Basil, and its failings quickly lead to frustration, “Can you hear me? Why won’t you answer me?!”. The slow realization that no-one will ever be able to hear him doesn’t defer the painting from speaking out, however. “Basil? I hope it is”, this question is asked rhetorically, in a sense it is being asked to itself, and the painting knows it will not be answered. This composed speech is transformed when it realizing Dorian killed Basil, and the calm and collected thought process transforms into uncontrollable rage, “you horrible, repulsive, evil man!” The many switches in style of language save what is essentially a long monologue from becoming repetitive and dull. The painting shows a range of emotions, running through shock, fear, love, adoration, confusion, anger, hatred, and acceptance. The other characters in the script will never interact intentionally with the painting, yet there are still moments of emotional dialogue, particularly between Dorian and the painting during his breakdown.
Other than re-starting my transformation altogether when my first attempt became too much of a parody, I didn’t make many dramatic alterations between the different drafts of my transformation. My first drafts came out as good pieces of writing, but not great pieces of drama. Most of my adaptations were to build suspense and tension, and to create a script that would grip the listener and drive the feelings of empathy into them. Oscar Wilde didn’t write realistic reports on society, he wrote creatively using symbolism to make remarks on society. I feel that in my transformation I have taken Wilde’s symbolism a step further. The responses I got were ones of intrigue and contemplation. Instead of simply enjoying the text, people would ask questions and share their ideas. Though some may argue that the true potential of the piece can only be enjoyed by people with knowledge of the base text, the responses I have received make me think otherwise. The conversations on the consequences of our sins, the sanctity of life, even the possible supernatural elements of the universe, give me confidence in the success of my transformation.
1865
Total word count - 3873
