Theatre Translator Marco Young on Playwrights, Nuances and the upcoming Utoya at Arcola Theatre

Coming to Arcola Theatre this August, a cautionary tale exploring the effects of far-right terrorism based on the 2011 massacre in Utoya, Norway. Gunnar and Malin have sent their daughter to the camp on the island, and desperately seek to contact her. Petter and Inga, who live on the farm next-door to the perpetrator’s, realise as the news breaks that their suspicions about him were well founded. Alf and Unni, members of the Oslo police force, must decide on the best course of action in response to the attack. Across a series of tender duologues, Utoya is a cautionary tale about the threat of far-right extremism, while also touching on society's latent prejudices, and revealing how compassion can rise to the fore in the midst of tragic events. British-Italian translator and actor Marco Young chats to us about the translation of the text.

Tell us about how you got into translating plays. 

Well, I was firstly lucky to be raised in a bilingual Italian-English speaking household, so have been so fortunate to speak Italian since I was young. I began translating theatrical texts in 2019-2020, having worked as a freelance commercial Italian-English translator for several years before that as a ‘day job’ alongside my acting work. Then, at the start of the pandemic, with my freelance work slowing down, I started reading more contemporary Italian theatre. I quickly saw how incredibly rich and varied the Italian theatre scene is, with so much politically, socially engaged work being written, and work which mixes styles and forms in really compelling ways. 

What motivated you to translate Utoya?

I was on the hunt for 2-5 person studio shows that were politically and socially engaged - that could contribute to the landscape of London theatre by introducing a European perspective on social issues and forces. I think Utoya does this in a very clever, indirect way - not hitting its audience over the head with a sound bite ‘message’, but inviting us to reflect on both the tragedy of extremism and how people behave towards each other in crisis. 

Edoardo’s reputation also speaks for itself, and when I saw that a production of Utoya would be the UK premiere of this piece, and the first UK production of his work since 1999, I jumped at the opportunity. 

More generally, I’m passionate about bringing Italian theatre in translation to the UK, as translated theatre is still so underrepresented on our stages - accounting for 2.2% of professional UK theatre according to a 2013 study, and not much improved over the last ten years. Particularly post Brexit, I think it’s so important to provide space for European voices in our cultural scene. 

Do you remember the first time you read the play? What was your reaction? 

I came across Utoya in 2020 and was drawn in by the intelligent, sensitive way Edoardo had considered a tragic event. Utoya places us at one remove from the tragedy, enabling us to feel the pain of the characters without sensationalising the extremism that caused it. Rather it’s much more about human behaviour in moments of trauma, and we’re a fly on the wall as these individuals both succeed and fail to connect with one another in an increasingly chaotic situation. 

However alongside that, I was surprised by the humour and the warm affection that runs throughout the script, and loved how that was there to counterbalance the high stakes and drama. I love plays which have this mix of registers and styles within them. 

I was quickly interested too in the prospect of it being a multi-rolled show, and what two performers playing all of these parts might add to the piece. 

Can you describe your process for translating such a powerful and emotional script?

My process of translating Utoya has largely followed the process I often use for translating plays. Firstly, obviously, I read it! Reading it all the way through and ensuring I’ve understood absolutely everything is key, including any unknown vocab or concepts. I then always do a quick, rough, first draft translation, just getting to the end and not worrying too much about ironing out any tricky bits. This is just to have a working draft to then work from, and is a system that has worked for me in the past. This is then followed by a slower second draft, when I go through my first draft much more slowly, up against the original, ensuring I’m dealing with any particularly difficult sections and happy with the sense vs the original. Finally - and this may be controversial for some translators - I usually do a third draft not involving the original text, where I just go back over my English version in isolation, seeing if there’s anything to improve/change, and trying to ensure there is enough distinction between different characters’ voices. It should stand up as an English text in its own right and not ‘sound’ like a translation. 

What were the biggest challenges you faced in translating Utoya?

I think the biggest challenge was probably trying to find a way, within the limits of translation, to give each of these characters a distinct voice. Whilst all six characters are vastly different from one another, they are all in a similar situation, and have a similar journey from fairly regular domestic interactions towards crisis and heightened stakes. So it was a challenge to try to inflect these lines slightly differently in translation, to bring out the dissimilarities between the characters, and avoid their voices all sort of blending into one tone or register. To try to do this I tried to pick up on the clues Edoardo was offering in the Italian about their speech styles, backgrounds and attitudes as they spoke to each other. 

How does Utoya challenge the audience's assumptions, and why is this important in today's context?

I think it challenges the audience’s assumptions by exposing the characters’ assumptions - several of the characters jump to conclusions about who has perpetrated this attack, and what is ‘proper’ or suitable to do in moments of crisis. Edoardo has opened this up for us in our discussions, explaining how, in these six characters, he is interrogating three supposed societal values and what they mean: faith (Gunnar and Malin), obedience (Alf and Unni) and privacy (Inga and Petter). He’s challenging us to consider what these values mean in practice, especially in moments of trauma, and why and how we follow these values in society. Further to this there is the Islamphobic and racism assumption from several of these characters that the Utoya attack is perpetrated by Islamic extremists, not a far-right racist extremist. This challenges us to realise this prejudice is very much still present in 2024, and also to consider how large the spectre of far-right extremism still is. This is of course important in UK society as well as Italian and Norwegian contexts, and my hope is that this discussion can be refracted through all three cultures in this UK production. 

How did you ensure that the nuances and emotional intensity of the original text were preserved in the translation?

A good question! I think, essentially, by trying to collaborate with good people who could help me in my process. As I’ll expand below, Edoardo has been so generous with his time and insight, allowing me to understand the impetus behind so many lines and moments - something I can then attempt bring to the English version. It was also crucial for me to hear early drafts read aloud by actors I trust - many of whom are also accomplished writers who gave great feedback about the flow of the piece. Again any edits must remain within the limits of faithful translation, but getting notes from English language writers was still so valuable. 

Can you discuss any collaboration with Edoardo Erba or the production team to refine the translation?

Edoardo has made himself so available in this process as we move towards production, and been so generous with his time. He opened up the three key ‘values’ he was looking to interrogate with his three pairs of characters, and also unfolded much of his thinking about the piece’s style and form as well. He was so crucial in understanding how and why the piece positions itself at a remove from the Utoya tragedy, seeking not to platform the extremism. He was also closely involved in the redrafting process of the translation: he noted an interim draft of mine and then this led to a great discussion about various translation choices and decisions, enriching the final draft. In the production team and cast, too, I’m lucky to have several writers and multi-lingual practitioners, who in various ways, have helped me refine the translation. This has been so welcome and a lovely change from the usual solo work of translation, which can be quite isolated. 

How do you feel the translated text will resonate with an English-speaking audience compared to the original Italian audience?

This is another great question and fundamentally, I don’t think it’s up to me to prescribe exactly how the translated text should resonate with an English speaking audience. I think that’s the great thing about translated theatre - you are offering up a text from another culture (in this case, from another culture that is discussing an event from a third country, Norway) and seeing how it will be received by audience members in another cultural context. I’d hope that some of the challenging themes of Utoya - around latent prejudice, turning blind eyes to extremism, and fundamentally the piece’s call for tolerance and empathy towards one another - would still lead an English speaking audience to fruitfully consider their own attitudes, both in society at large and in their domestic contexts. However, as the UK is a different cultural space, different themes or concepts may resonate with audiences more or less, and I’m excited to see how that goes. 

Utoya plays at Arcola Theatre from 13th – 31st August, more information, and tickets here: https://www.arcolatheatre.com/whats-on/utoya/