The Tragic Ideal of Eternal Youth: Folk Myth on the Modern Stage

In the contemporary cultural landscape, there is an increasingly urgent need to identify artistic forms capable of resonating with new modes of aesthetic and cultural sensibility. The accelerated transformations of the social and technological environment have altered not only the ways in which audiences engage with artistic expression but also their expectations regarding the dynamics and aesthetics of representation. In this context, the recovery and reinterpretation of traditional narrative material can no longer operate as a mere exercise in reconstruction; rather, it must be understood as a process of critical re-signification. Adapting canonical narratives to contemporary performative structures entails more than a scenic transposition—it involves repositioning theatrical discourse in relation to present-day experience. Such a practice aligns with broader tendencies in postdramatic theatre, privileging hybridity, intermediality, and the performative act over narrative linearity.

This creative strategy enables the exploration of new reception models, opening a dialogic space between collective cultural memory and the aesthetic sensibilities of contemporary audiences, whose references are increasingly shaped by pop culture’s fluid reinterpretation of folklore, myth, and fairy tales.

A relevant example of this approach is the performance Youth Without Age and Life Without Death, produced by Lucian Blaga University of Sibiu & Radu Stanca National Theatre in Sibiu, and later included in the repertoire of Radu Stanca National Theatre in Sibiu (RSNT). Choreographed by Ștefan Lupu, the production deliberately transcends the boundaries of classical choreographic conventions, embracing a complex artistic discourse situated at the intersection of tradition and contemporaneity. The project foregrounds embodiment, rhythm, and visual dramaturgy as primary means of signification, privileging a sensorial rather than purely narrative experience. The artistic endeavor of the students and faculty involved exceeds the framework of a pedagogical exercise, becoming an act of performative research with substantial theoretical and aesthetic implications for current performance practices.

The stage reinterpretation of Youth Without Old Age infuses it with tragic dimensions, reshaping the themes and emotional impact to resonate with the fears, conflicts, and sensitivities of contemporary audiences. It is via the choreographic and theatrical language that the narrative message of the fairy tale is brought into the present. The main tension is between the ideal of eternity and its unattainability. Through all these artistic means, the tragic depth of the story is revealed, resonating with contemporary reflections on the human condition.

Beyond the formal partnership between the two institutions mentioned above, their relationship has allowed the best student productions to enter the theater’s regular repertoire. This has been an extraordinary opportunity for the young artists, who thus benefit from increased visibility early in their careers. Perhaps the most eloquent example is the performance Antisocial, which I previously analyzed in volume 6 of European Stages. Now, history repeats itself. Youth Without Old Age, directed and choreographed by Ștefan Lupu, premiered in the early months of 2025 and has consistently played to sold-out audiences. It was also included in the student festival affiliated with Sibiu International Theatre Festival. The students—now professional actors—were guided by Lupu in an ambitious project that reimagines a famous Romanian fairy tale through dance, emphasizing its tragic dimensions. The performance is staged in the new LBUS performance hall, which has proven to be not only a generous educational space for the performing arts in Sibiu but also an open venue for experimentation and for a young audience willing to challenge (or at least postpone) the comforts of the petite bourgeoisie.

It is also necessary to highlight the research dimension of this performance. The assistant director of Ștefan Lupu, Andrada Oltean, is a PhD candidate at LBUS and is writing a dissertation on the training of the modern actor and dancer. In this regard, the Youth Without Old Age project proved to be a perfect ground for research, as the rehearsals lasted several months and provided the framework for the practical investigation carried out by the doctoral student, which will resonate in her future PhD thesis. Moreover, this mix of practice and theory is the preferred strategy of the doctoral studies in theatre and performing arts at the university in Sibiu (Romania).

As we all know, the fairy tale is a traditional narrative transmitted orally within a community, reflecting its collective imagination, cultural values, and moral codes. Unlike literary works, these tales have no identifiable author; they emerge through collective creation and evolve over time through multiple reinterpretations and retransmissions. The authorial context is therefore collective and cultural rather than individual, encompassing the historical, social, and cultural background of the community that created and preserved the story. The themes of the folk tale are universal: the struggle between good and evil, justice, or transformation. Fairy tales may also transmit specific traditions, beliefs, and norms of their place of origin. In this sense, they function both as artistic forms and as cultural documents, offering a valuable perspective on the worldview and identity of the communities that produced them.

The Romanian fairy tale Youth Without Old Age and Life Without Death has a powerful tragic dimension that amplifies its resonance in the Romanian cultural imaginary. The quest for the absolute ideal proves to be impossible, and the protagonist (Făt-Frumos / Prince Charming) ultimately loses everything he wished to preserve forever. The impossibility of overcoming time becomes a meditation on the human condition and the fragility of existence. This tragic vision transforms the tale into a symbol of human aspiration and confrontation with inevitable destiny.

The story begins with the wish of an unborn child who refuses to enter the world unless he receives the gift of eternal life. The emperor promises this gift, and when the child reaches maturity, he sets out in search of the pledged reward. After a long journey and battles with supernatural forces, he reaches the realm of eternal youth, where he lives happily for a while. Yet his longing for home and the past drives him to break the interdiction of leaving that place. Upon returning to the world, he discovers that centuries have passed and everything has changed. Death awaits him and embraces him, thus fulfilling the tragic destiny of the hero.

Folk and fairy tales contain a strong element of theatricality: initially transmitted orally, the tales were not merely told but performed: the storyteller employed gestures, vocal inflections, pauses, and repetitions to build dramatic tension and capture the audience’s attention. The typological characters—the hero, the antagonist, the magical helper—are constructed schematically precisely to be easily recognizable and representable on stage. Its fixed narrative structure, with clearly defined moments (initial situation, trial, confrontation, triumph, and return), follows an almost dramaturgical logic, allowing for a natural transposition into theatrical forms. Moreover, European folk tales consistently possess a ritualistic and symbolic dimension, which adds depth to the scenic action. Through conventions, repetitions, and fixed formulas (“Once upon a time…”), they establish a recognizable performative framework, akin to the opening of a stage performance. Thus, the folk tale is not merely a source of inspiration for theater but carries within itself the seeds of theatricality, anticipating modern dramatic forms.

Ștefan Lupu is a young theater manager from Bucharest (Teatrul Mic). He graduated acting and has focused his career on choreography and stage movement. In addition to his artistic work, he is also one of the most enthusiastic and dynamic movement and stage dance instructors in Romania. In the performances he choreographs, Ștefan Lupu is particularly interested in identifying a playful vein that he later explores on stage—developing, transforming, and refining it—to reveal to the audience that beneath this surface lies something profoundly serious and weighty. He pays extraordinary attention to detail and nuance and is a particularly active figure in the Romanian performing arts scene. As part of the “new wave” of dancers and choreographers, he undoubtedly brings fresh, dynamic energy and a revitalizing perspective to the field. Ștefan Lupu surrounds himself with very young and exceptionally talented artists, a fact that is evident in all his productions: they are filled with energy, courage, and an openness that resonates with an equally dynamic audience.

The role of Lupu’s choreography in constructing the scenic language was both complex and precise. Having previously transformed Romanian folk tales into dance performances, the choreographer engaged in a process of decoding the tale’s key narrative nuclei and reassembling them on stage in a language that blends elements of Romanian folk culture with pop culture. This strategy is by no means superficial or simplistic. The fairy tale is a popular story, passed down through generations and addressed to the many. So in this particular performance it is therefore entirely appropriate that, for example, the traditional Storyteller is replaced by a hip-hop artist who communicates with the audience and frames the story, functioning as a kind of prologue. This opening moment sets the theatrical convention, energizing and captivating the audience.

As in the original fairy tale, the Emperor and Empress are childless, which is a source of domestic tension. This is translated on stage through a stable physical proximity between the two performers, tinged with a slight distancing as they move in sync, attempting to prove something. Both dancers embody youth and royal status, but choreographically, the weight of responsibility and the shadow of a tragic destiny hover over the stage and the characters.

The ensemble of dancers functions organically, but at key moments, individual performers step forward to shape the action. Right from the beginning, things are problematic at the emperor’s court. The baby cries inconsolably; the Emperor offers many difficult-to-attain gifts, including—humorously—a star on Sibiu’s Walk of Fame. Ultimately, the supreme promise that convinces the child is youth without aging and life without death. Choreographically, this harmony is reflected in fluid movements and balanced compositions. But everything changes when the young Prince Charming demands the promised gift and sets off to find the supreme ideal. As in any fairy tale, the hero must choose his loyal horse, face trials, and meet certain conditions—each moment choreographed with sensuality, wit, and meticulous attention to detail. The horses, for example, are embodied by two female dancers, their movements combining elegance, sensuality, and impeccable technique.

Arguably the highlight of the performance is the encounter with Gheonoaia (The Forest Hag)—a supernatural creature, traditionally a witch-like or forest spirit figure, an adversary who captures, tests, or torments the hero. One of her strongest symbolic functions is to herald misfortune. In the performance, however, Gheonoaia is reimagined as a drag character who challenges Prince Charming to a dance battle to Sex Bomb by Tom Jones. The decision to include a drag performance in an adaptation of a Romanian folk tale is both bold and natural: bold because drag culture remains a niche in Romania, and natural because it heightens the contrast between past and present, central to Lupu’s staging. Moreover, this hypersexualized drag battle scene can also be read as a performative manifesto directed at a more conventional segment of the audience, challenging comfort zones and expectations.

Indeed, the entire performance is built upon strong contrasts that need to be analysed. Old / new: the timeless world of the Romanian fairy tale forms the foundation for a performance using the expressive tools of contemporary dance. Tradition / modernity: traditional elements of the old Romanian world intersect with pop culture—for example, embroidery motifs on costumes are juxtaposed with pop aesthetics in Gheonoaia’s costume. The musical arrangement combines traditional Romanian music with modern beats, energizing group scenes and lending fluidity to more intimate moments. Another choreographic strategy worth noting is character doubling. While the fairy tale features a single horse, the performance employs two dancers to achieve a heightened choreographic effect.

The final sequence of the performance naturally presents the most spectacular group choreography: the dance of death is a moment in which all the performers are on stage, moving in a synchronization that only appears to have a low level of energy. The central figure is once again Prince Charming, positioned at the center of the stage — the point where all the group’s energies intersect. The dance movements draw, at least in part, from traditional Romanian folk dances, yet they are reinterpreted — in keeping with the music — and paired with contemporary beats that open the piece toward the universal language of pop culture within the contemporary performing arts context. The musical phrases repeat themselves, not obsessively, but with the steady rhythm of a well-established refrain that lingers in the audience’s collective memory. Gradually, Death enters the stage, moving among the dancers, touching them one by one, contaminating them, and bringing them down (with a morbid tenderness) to the ground. Death is portrayed by an actress with very long hair, which she uses to touch and bring down those around her. What can be seen as a symbol of femininity becomes the touch of death. Prince Charming is, of course, the last to fall — the final remnant of a world once full of life, but which from this moment on will be nothing but ashes. Death’s touch does not bring death in the literal sense, but a void, an absence: after Death, there is nothing left; after Death, the performance is over, the rest is silence.

The performance employs tragic elements through the way it stages the confrontation between destiny and individual freedom. The figure of Prince Charming becomes emblematic for the doomed hero, unable to escape the ending dictated by the very nature of the myth. Death does not appear as a violent force but as an inevitable, slow, and implacable presence, turning the finale into a moment of collective lucidity rather than a dramatic explosion. Thus, the tragic dimension arises not from external conflict but from the awareness of the inescapable.

In conclusion, the contemporary staging of Youth Without Old Age and Life Without Death reveals the profound tragic resonance embedded in the original fairy tale. By reimagining this canonical narrative through a modern choreographic and theatrical language, the performance exposes the inevitable confrontation between human aspiration and immutable destiny. Prince Charming’s quest for eternity becomes a timeless reflection of humanity’s futile struggle against the passage of time—a struggle marked not by violent opposition but by the quiet, inexorable arrival of death. The choreography heightens this tragic inevitability, allowing death to emerge not as a destructive force, but as an implacable presence that slowly absorbs all vitality, culminating in silence.

This dramaturgical choice shifts the focus from external conflict to inner awareness, turning the finale into a moment of collective recognition of human fragility. The tragic dimension is amplified through contrasts—youth and decay, desire and loss, movement and stillness—each reinforcing the inescapable tension between the ideal of eternal life and the reality of mortality. In doing so, the performance does more than reinterpret a folk myth; it transforms it into a powerful meditation on the human condition, where beauty, vitality, and longing ultimately yield to the unalterable certainty of death. Through this tragic lens, the story transcends its folkloric origins and becomes a universal, deeply affecting theatrical experience.

Ultimately, this also represents a deliberate wager undertaken by the production team: the young actors and dancers, under the coordination of Ștefan Lupu, have demonstrated their ability to meet the complex challenges of transitioning from the protected environment of the university’s creative laboratory in theatre and choreography to the competitive landscape of the professional performing arts sector. The university provided them with an opportunity, which they successfully materialized, and the inclusion of the performance in the repertoire of a professional theatre stands as evidence that the wider public has likewise acknowledged and validated the artistic accomplishment of the ensemble.

This work was funded by the EU’s NextGenerationEU instrument through the National Recovery and Resilience Plan of Romania - Pillar III-C9-I8, managed by the Ministry of Research, Innovation and Digitalization, within the project entitled Measuring Tragedy: Geographical Diffusion, Comparative Morphology, and Computational Analysis of European Tragic Form (METRA), contract no. 760249/28.12.2023, code CF 163/31.07.2023.

Lucian Blaga University of Sibiu

Concept: Ștefan Lupu

Assistant director: Andrada Oltean

Choreography: Devised

Costumes: Maria Constantin

Musical illustration: Ștefan Lupu, Andrada Oltean

Musical arrangement: Vlad Robaș

Light designer: Dorin Părău

Sound designer: Bobariu Cătălin

Cast:

The Emperor: Adrian Bumbeș

The Empress: Maria Maftei / Andrada Oltean

The Wizard: Eva Frățilă

The Horse: Ada Bicflavi & Isabela Haiduc

Prince Charming: David Cristian

Gheonoaia: Mihai Mocanu

Scorpio: Alberta Dima, Ana Ștefan, Andra Stoian

Fairies: Ana Ștefan, Andra Stoian

Little Fairy: Isabela Haiduc / Ada Bicfalvi

Rabbit: Eva Frățilă / Fabian Toderică

Death: Eva Frățilă

Jokester: Ștefan Chelimândră

Narrator: Fabian Toderică