The art of translating plays for the stage is a delicate and often thankless task, but it can make or break a work of art. Monica Capuani, a leading translator bringing international theatre to Italian audiences, embodies this sentiment. She describes herself as an 'artist of interpretation and humility', following in the footsteps of the 'children of a greater god' - the authors she translates. Her latest project is a translation of Marina Carr's new play, Mirandolina, which arrives at the Abbey in late August after touring Italy and Croatia. This translation is a full circle, starting with a literal English translation of Carlo Goldoni's 18th-century Italian comedy, which Carr then reimagined and updated. Capuani's task was to restore the text into Italian while preserving the linguistic specificities and emotional textures that Carr introduced.
What makes this project particularly fascinating is the context in which it was created. Italy was still grappling with the aftermath of the murder of Giulia Cecchettin, a 22-year-old university student killed by her ex-boyfriend in 2023. This case dominated newspaper headlines and became a symbol of Italy's broader crisis of violence against women. Capuani observed that the adaptation of Mirandolina inevitably acquired new resonances for Italian audiences, especially as some members of the cast were simultaneously shooting a film adapted from the victim's father's book. This close collaboration between the translator, playwright, and cast was crucial in bringing the play to life with precision and detail.
The demands of theatrical translation differ from those of literary translation. In theatre, there's no opportunity for the audience to pause or reread a passage. If the translation isn't clear or consistent with the character, the audience can lose track of the story. The translator's goal is to disappear completely, making the translation invisible. However, this very invisibility has contributed to the undervaluation of the profession. Translators are often poorly paid and rarely recognised, with their names omitted from play programmes.
The recent rise of artificial intelligence (AI) in translation has sharpened anxieties across the industry. Capuani compares AI's impact on translation to the internet's effect on journalism. She argues that AI can be a useful tool for research or checking details, but it should not replace human translators. Many publishing companies are now asking translators to revise or correct AI-generated translations, which Capuani believes kills the language and culture. She emphasises the importance of human understanding and empathy in translation, drawing a parallel to the frustration of navigating an automated telephone system.
The emotional and psychological insight required in translation is highlighted by an anecdote Capuani shared. She began seeing a Lacanian psychoanalyst who also translated Jacques Lacan. During a session, Capuani repeatedly used the English word 'impaired' to describe herself, unable to think of the Italian equivalent. Her analyst paused on this linguistic slip, revealing the French word 'père' (father) within the word. This single word was a revelation, demonstrating the power of language to store emotions and associations.
In conclusion, the art of translating plays is a complex and rewarding process that requires immense skill and dedication. Monica Capuani's work on Mirandolina showcases the challenges and rewards of this profession, as well as the importance of human understanding and empathy in creating a successful translation.
