Fire in the Temple A review of a new play by Glen Williamson

by Aaron Mirkin

I had the great privilege of being able to witness and experience a performance of Glen Williamson’s new play Fire in the Temple performed at Camphill Copake, in upstate New York. It is the fruit of six years of work with various iterations and collaborations along the way, including notable work by director John McManus.

The 13 actors and eurythmists, plus two musicians, received a standing ovation from the audience of some 200 people. The rapturous applause was said to equal that of the opening night the day before, and, in my view, it was fully deserved.

The performances were by and large very convincing and performed largely by semi-professionals, most of whom are connected to the anthroposophical community in the USA.

The 2 ½ hour performance didn’t have a dull moment, both in terms of the drama and the content that so many of us probably know quite well from our own studies and engagement with anthroposophy. The play begins with the tragic burning of the Goetheanum on New Year’s Eve 1922 and portrays key moments in the life and work of Rudolf Steiner and some of his closest co-workers, up until his death in March 1925.

Glen has drawn the content entirely from documented events and records of the time, including words from several of Rudolf Steiner’s lectures which were held in that period. In addition, Glen has also introduced, in part or whole, content from many different verses and meditations that Rudolf Steiner gave at that time, including a slightly rephrased but powerfully effective dramatic rendering of the verse usually known as The Green Demons given by Rudolf Steiner to Ita Wegman probably in late 1924.

This verse stands, in many ways, at the heart of the play, and is an exhortation to wake up and actively wrestle, courageously, with facing the riddles presented to us by the forces of darkness in our time. We should learn to offer up this wakefulness to the spirit beings who, only then, can help humanity transform the darkness with light. The verse ends with the words: Thus speaks the admonishing gaze of Michael.

We hear and see the Archangel Michael at many points throughout the play. We also see and hear the Spirits of Darkness speaking through two representatives of the secret brotherhoods who wish to destroy anthroposophy and Rudolf Steiner; and who also appear literally as green and black demons. From time-to-time they menace, unseen, around the characters on the stage. The clever use of lighting and music was especially helpful here, as it was throughout the entire play.

More than anything, we were able to experience the on-going wrestling of Rudolf Steiner himself who, dayby-day, minute-by-minute, had to deal with constant attacks on himself and his work, both super-sensible and sensible. This was especially evident by his having to deal with the blindness and weakness of so many around him, yet he always managed this with the greatest clarity and compassion.

There are many very moving moments in the play when one is suddenly thrust into the stark reality of those intense and dramatic times that belonged to the bringing to birth of a worthy home for anthroposophy within human hearts on Earth. Time and again we are thrown into deepest awe and wonder for all those whose destiny and karma led them to be there as the frail pioneers of this work, despite the impending split that we know took place in 1935, and which is alluded to several times in the play. The karmic backgrounds of Rudolf and Marie Steiner, and Ita Wegman, for instance, are cleverly woven into the drama with seamless ‘flashbacks’ from previous lives.

The greatest awe, wonder, and compassion was awakened for Rudolf Steiner himself, and the suffering that he had to endure as he worked ceaselessly, leaving no stone unturned in his task of waking up as many people as possible to the desperate needs of the time and of our pressing Michaelic Age.

In the light of all of that, I felt humbled, and in many ways, ashamed to be such a weak and poor proponent and defender of anthroposophy and Rudolf Steiner in my own life.

And this, in many ways, is probably the greatest achievement of the play – rather than attempt to present an accurate blow-by-blow presentation of events which would no doubt satisfy one’s need to know (and there was certainly plenty of that), Glen, together with the fine directive skills of John McManus, and through convincing performances, has created a work of art that touches not only the head, but also the heart and hands – very deeply. If I dare say, the individuality of Rudolf Steiner, and indeed of Anthroposophia herself, could at times be felt, asking the burning question that sounds forth in many ways during the play: What happened then is still happening today, and the forces of darkness are as active now as they were then. Will you wake up and offer yourself as a true and willing servant of Anthroposophia?

The play is certainly no dramatized history lesson, but far more a calling out to the hearts of all who consider themselves to be anthroposophists today –right here and now!

My heartfelt gratitude goes out to all who made this play possible, and especially to Glen for his daring, wit, and conviction in bringing this play to us now. I very much hope that in one way or another it might find its way, either on the stage or at least as readings, into as many of our anthroposophical groups as possible around the world.