| In Water I’m Weightless: NTW at Cultural Olympiad |
At National Theatre Wales |
| National Theatre Wales , Weston Studio Wales Millennium Centre , October 8, 2012 |
Wales Arts Review was there: “A fragmentary exploration of the human body, In Water I’m Weightless is National Theatre Wales’s new collaboration with Disability Arts Cymru, combining elements of dance, poetry, video work and voice-overs. “The actors enter the performance space almost as if going down a catwalk, dressed in over-the-top costumes – think corsets, shoulder pads, Harry Hill collars, shiny grey suit jackets, and hoop-skirts, with what could safely be described as a protestation nonconformist state of mind – think the top of the charts in the 1977 Silver Jubilee. “By the end of the performance, we see them stripped down to their underwear (with Shirley Bassey’s Big Spender playing) before putting on more casual clothes, such as joggers and sweat pants. Combined with designer Paul Clay’s ten giant blue spheres hanging above the floor below (making full use of the Weston Studio’s great height) this highly stimulating and engaging production would leave any aesthete thoroughly satisfied. “But having stated that, Kate O’Reilly’s poetic script would work well on a stage without the surrounding multimedia. Stripped of everything else, this is about the actors and how they communicate how they feel to others around them. “Some ask questions. The visually impaired Karina Jones asks us, ‘How would you describe seeing?’ in one of her monologues. And the subtext to a visually impaired person starting off a monologue by saying ‘I have an amazing vision’ should not need to be explained too enthusiastically. “One of the interesting things about this is the attitudes to how the cast see themselves. There is something of a quiet rage to Nick Phillips’s most significant monologue. In it, his character describes being given a donation in his beer can outside a pub as someone automatically gives him pity for being a wheelchair user. The bewilderment in the character couldn’t be any different from Phillips’ own attitude when it comes to it either. “Regardless of his experiences (he also describes the loss of body ownership to professionals and carers) Phillips himself has a robust attitude to being in a wheelchair: in his interview in the programme, he describes his experience of working on the production by saying ‘the exciting thing about doing this is looking at myself as a disabled person.’ “In a not too dissimilar vein, Sophie Stone’s disability does not leave much in the way of visual clues. Her monologue, ‘Things I have lip-read,’ explores various statements made by different characters. We are given an expressive interpretation in voice-over form and movement, of what it is like for various deaf people with the skill of lip reading to understand others. “While there may be something ‘hidden’ about Phillips and Stones’ experiences, Mat Fraser brings his out into the open. Playing a young adolescent, he describes being bullied for having a physical deformity. Ending with a choreographic piece to the tune of the Sex Pistols’ Bodies, his dance is a repetition of rhythmic movements which get faster and more physical as the tempo of the music increases. "Sometimes bordering on the bizarre, this is perhaps the point – why bully someone for being different? Why not celebrate instead? It is parts of the production such as these that act as a reminder that being able-bodied is enough of a reward in itself. If that sounds overly melodramatic or sentimental, please forgive me.” * * * * The Arts Desk was there: “...In common with Danny Boyle’s Olympic opening ceremony, director John McGrath’s exploration of issues facing disabled people is a bit of a mess, a bit of a tick-box exercise and thoroughly enjoyable. “The play is a rallying cry for the civil rights of the disabled, and wears its politics somewhat heavily. But despite some meanderings in the middle, by the time we reach writer Kaite O’Reilly’s epic final monologue, a paean to the “gen of the genome”, “the glorious freak[s] of nature” who “broaden the scope of homosapien possibilities”, worthy almost of Shakespeare in its rhythm and intensity, and wonderfully delivered by David Toole there is a feeling that we have been confronted. “But with what? For the most part, the play is a loosely connected series of impressions: sign language, fragments of text, anecdotes, powerful music in a bewildering array of styles. There is little to connect these disparate elements but the fact that all of the five members of the cast have a disability. “They are partially-sighted, deaf, paralysed or somehow physically deformed. Not too long ago, the only type of theatre open to these performers would have been in a freak show. In Water I’m Weightless is not without humour, and there is a moment of comedy when two of the actors discuss their recent roles: “always the monster”, “misunderstood evil genius” or, “worst of all, plot device”. “There is no such danger here, as the five actors are offered a rare opportunity to give us a glimpse of themselves, or at least a version thereof. Against Paul Clay’s simple but effective backdrop of projection screen and giant globules, which act variously as thought bubbles, water droplets and bodily cells, the cast each give a fantastic account of themselves. “Don’t patronise me,” says Karina Jones’ character at one point, and among all the familiar and less familiar things we hear that disabled people have to put up with on a daily basis – there is also a section titled “Things I Have Lipread” – this would seem to be one which grates the most. “Jones also has the pleasure of delivering some of O’Reilly’s best passages, a layered metaphor about “your very being a warzone carried out at molecular level” culminating in the horrific image of “that fleshy Dresden”, which nevertheless the character has learnt to love. Ultimately, In Water I’m Weightless is a celebration of disabled human beings – their bodies, their minds and their souls. “And although it oscillates rather wildly between wigging out to the Sex Pistols and Shirley Bassey and reflections on perceiving other human beings in terms boiling down to use of taxpayers’ money like the theatrical equivalent of a loud/quiet/loud Nirvana song, it succeeds far more often than it fails. “It is thought-provoking rather than attitude-changing, but that fault lies with us, not with the play. And of course, despite some kind of attempts, it gets nowhere near allowing the able-bodied to understand what it might be like inside the body of “the other”. But that’s perhaps the point: underlining the distance that exists, the gap that needs bridging.” * * * * The British Theatre Guide was there: “Commissioned as part of the London 2012 Cultural Olympiad, In Water I'm Weightless, National Theatre Wales's 20th full production, features some of the UK's most high-profile deaf and disabled performers (although the production was hit by the late, apparently temporary withdrawal of Mandy Colleran through injury, prompting much re-jigging), in what is something of a trippy multi-media cabaret. “Starting with the sobering "there but for the grace of God" reminder that we could all be a second away from ourselves becoming disabled, we're taken on a whirlwind ride through various aspects of the experience of disability via monologues, dance interludes, and a barrage of text and images (still and moving, live and recorded) delivered via ten spherical monitors and a more conventional screen at the back of the stage. “The text is by Kaite O'Reilly, much—but by no means all—of whose work as a playwright centres around issues of impairment (e.g. her affecting brain-injury drama The Almond And The Seahorse, which was one of my highlights of 2008), and who has done much to foreground performers with disabilities; it is derived largely from interviews carried out over a number of years, although one must presume that the actors themselves have had some input here, given the broad—perhaps too broad—range of realities depicted. “Confrontation is a major theme—the body is described as a war-zone, with cells attacking one another; individuals are constantly at war with the perceptions of others, well-meaning and otherwise; we are reminded of the large number of military leaders whose capabilities have been enhanced by their own disabilities. “Director John McGrath, in collaboration with choreographer Nigel Charnock, stresses the actors' physicality at all times, although some of the most striking moments are the simplest—such as Mat Fraser dancing frenziedly to the Sex Pistols while unseen hands scrawl noise-orientated words on the backdrop, or Karina Jones rolling provocatively on the floor. “Sophie Stone's riff on demeaning comments "overheard" by those adept at lip-reading provides the most laughs, albeit uneasy ones; one imagines, though, that the skit in which disabled actors complain about stereotyping might be received with a mildly sardonic chuckle by those belonging to other minorities, and perhaps the wider community of mostly unemployed performers. “Reflections on the feelings of dislocation engendered by having one's hearing restored seem to belong to an entirely different play, and while Nick Phillips's monologue about having his beer can mistaken for a collecting-tin is amusing, it suffers from being repeated. Just when one is beginning to crave more of a narrative focus, however, David Toole delivers a climactic, angrily polemical speech, a powerful call to arms, and the culmination of a perversely celebratory evening. “Indeed, the cast are uniformly charismatic, and even though the production is technically impressive and the writing as sharp as might be expected, it is the performances which leave a lasting impression.” * * * * Get the Chance was there: “This is NTW’s first show to present a cast composed entirely of deaf and disabled performers. In a big “up yours” to all the people who stereotype, patronise and try to hide the differently able, these five performers smash all boundaries and come out triumphant. “ complete feast for the senses this mash up of speech, sign language, dance, projection and music was sometimes frustratingly chaotic but always engrossing. To see disabled performers such as Nick Phillips dance to punk music with more energy than a hyperactive five year old dosed up on sugar completely shattered any prior expectations. “Innovative use of live film and creative staging ensured that this piece didn’t at all rely on the fact it had such an unusual cast. Images of endoscope scans and soldiers accompanied Karina Jones’ touching comparison between her body and a war zone. This was right on the brink of cutting edge theatre and the performers showed they are just as capable as any “normal” person. “The fragmented monologues and conversations gave quick glimpses into what it is like to live with a disability or impairment. A section entitled “Things I’ve lip read” added a touch of dark humour, “At least she won’t nag”, “It’s a shame more women aren’t like her.” Whilst this highlighted a lot of major issues and concerns without ever asking for sympathy – quite the opposite in fact – I wanted more narrative, to dig that little bit deeper. “A rare moment of silence, broken only by occasional wordless exclamations as Sophie Stone performed a monologue entirely in sign language gave the audience a true sense of what it is like to be the outsider, to be side tracked and not be catered for. Mat Fraser joked that he once played a criminal in a police education video, but he couldn’t be put in the cells as the station didn’t have facilities for wheelchairs. “John E. McGrath directed these inspirational performers in such a way that Kaite O’Reilly’s script came across as blunt, unflinching truth – even though they were not their stories or their words. As Stone commented in the after show talk, they are just like any other actor, it is their job to find a truthful presentation of the words they have been given. “This outstanding night of theatre was beautifully topped off with an inspirational monologue powerfully delivered by David Toole. Addressed to “gems of the genome” and “medical marvels”, this rousing speech flowed rhythmically to punch home the production’s political and social message of equality and the right to own your own body.” Abridged from the full reviews which can be read at: https://www.walesartsreview.org/in-water-im-weightless/ https://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/water-im-weightless-national-theatre-wales https://www.britishtheatreguide.info/reviews/in-water-i-m-we-weston-studio-7726 https://getthechance.wales/2013/01/02/in-water-im-weightless-young-critics-review/ |
Reviewed by: Adam Somerset |
This review has been read 187 times There are 95 other reviews of productions with this title in our database:
|
