The scenography for Lithuanian Dziady at the National Theatre in Kaunas unfolds within a mausoleum-like space situated between a cemetery and a national monument. It is a site where two orders intersect: clandestine folk rituals performed by villagers and official state ceremonies commemorating national heroes. The stage becomes a field of tension between private mourning and the monumental narrative of history. In our interpretation, it is not the living who summon the spirits — the spirits call upon the living, compelling them to confront the unresolved trauma of the past.
At the center stands a shallow monument-grave filled with earth — a place both sacred and symbolic. Here, the ritual of purification is enacted through water and fire. As it unfolds, contemporary interiors emerge from beneath the soil, revealing present-day versions of Zosia and Gustaw. Two cubic structures clad in Venetian mirror and furnished with modern domestic objects become fragments of intimate stories embedded within the larger national narrative. The reflective surfaces multiply perspectives and draw the audience into the act of remembrance. The scenography ultimately poses a question: which narrative carries greater weight — the monumental story of the nation, or the fragile personal histories concealed beneath it?
