| Not for the faint hearted..... |
At Volcano Theatre |
| Volcano Theatre- This Imaginary Woman , Chapter Arts Centre , March 14, 2003 |
| The latest offering from Volcano Theatre presents a new and experimental format – a song-by-song account of a death, which treads a thin line between performance art and ‘theatre’. Clearly the format of the show was intended as a deliberate statement resulting from collaboration between a musician/composer and a performer exploring bereavement, with the emotional sincerity of the result taking precedence over the production of easy or ‘popular’ music. Although the music for the show is not groundbreaking or hugely experimental in its own right, the way it is used in the context of a theatrical performance instead of an acted plot or narrative, dialogue or dance, is quite challenging. Whilst the show is not particularly physical to watch, it certainly appeared to be very physical to perform with Fern Smith displaying an impressive range of vocal sounds that makes the nauseating wannabes of Pop Idol etc seem even more comically talent-less and banal than before. Unfortunately my companion thought the show was “self-indulgent clap-trap” and that the songs were not strong enough to pull off their experiment successfully. However, as This Imaginary Woman is a piece of theatre and not a concert, the quality of the songs seemed acceptable to me and each sufficiently different, like a particular sound/tone and voice for each stage of the grieving process. My partner also commented that the array of vocal sounds used were too obviously the result of a workshop series but I would argue that Volcano have integrated these vocal experiments onto the stage in a daring and intelligent way that I haven’t seen before in a theatre context. Each sound and word seemed loaded with conviction and honesty, particularly the alarmingly loud moments akin to the mourning wail of a bereft Eastern European mother. This Imaginary Woman could have been in danger of being too introspective, like someone else’s therapy, but it was actually a privilege to witness such a personal account, sung as a virtual monologue. The trivial memories of the deceased such as crashing an electric wheelchair into new living-room furniture were interesting and occasionally amusing although the audience found it hard to chuckle at these moments in such a serious context. I don’t believe it is possible for someone who has not experienced bereavement to create art about as difficult (and still fairly taboo) a subject as death with any authority or integrity, and so a degree of autobiography is absolutely justified. Having not lost a friend or relative since childhood This Imaginary Woman is for me a challenging description of the process of grief that promises to divide its audiences. Not for the faint-hearted. |
Reviewed by: Zoe Hewett |
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