|
Invisible Stains
Presented by: VCA School of Performing Arts
Venue: Space
28, Performing Arts Building, Southbank
Reviewer: Peter Newling
Date Reviewed: Wednesday 21st October 2009
Few phrases strike more fear into the hearts of person-kind than
“Pandemic”, “Tsunami” and “Group Devised Theatre”. But in Invisible
Stains – the final hoorah of the VCA Graduating Class of 2009 –
there is no need to fear. You’re in safe, confident hands.
Invisible Stains is about memory – that place in our brain where the
past becomes the present. But the clear photographs of memory are
tarnished by invisible stains of our own making – as memory
is (dis)coloured by time, distance, perspective, judgment and the
influence of others. The young creators of this piece have taken
major events of the twentieth century – including the Vietnam War,
9/11, the ‘troubles’ in Ireland, the Holocaust and the stolen
generation – and explored the influence of inter-generational
memory (most of the events occurred before the performers were
born!!)
 Drawing
a parallel with the photographic process, the piece consists of
three parts – “The Shoot” (exposure to the stimulus, when the
memories are first formed); then “In The Darkroom” (where the images
take form, and invisible stains influence how we will recall those
moments into the future); and finally “(Im)print” (where loss of
memory is explored).
The art of Group Devised work lies more in knowing what to leave
out, than what to leave in. Each performer develops an emotional
attachment to their story – and with a cast of 23, it’s easy to
stray into individual indulgence. That Invisible Stains avoids this,
is testament to the work of the director, Tanya Gerstle. Each
element was stripped back to its barest components – relying far
more on visuals to tell the story than words – after all, isn’t that
how memory works?
For example, when onto an empty stage, we see two characters in
business attire – but bare footed and covered in dust from building
materials, gagging and bewildered – no words are required to recall
the horror of 9/11. In the first part of the production, the
essential imagery of each story has been carefully selected – and
woven together against a backdrop reminiscent of the ignorant
celebrations of Evelyn Waugh’s “bright young things”. As it
progresses, the separate events start to intermingle, and the once
clear lines of distinction begin to blur, as we begin to question
our own recollections.
Invisible Stains is a visual feast. From the moment the audience is
ushered into the smokey ante-room, they are exposed to carefully
constructed and brilliantly choreographed sequences. The long
rehearsal process allowed the creative team to focus on perfecting
the transitions – not just the stories. Evocative and well chosen
music, and simple unobtrusive lighting add to the overall. The vast
array of costumes are terrific.
To single out any individual performer would be to do a disservice
to the ensemble. Suffice to say, each made the most of their
individual moments in the spotlight, and contributed to the
background with great enthusiasm. There is obviously a great deal of
trust between the performers, and their energy and focus were
collectively breathtaking. Special mention on the range and quality
of accents used (I counted at least eight), and brownie points for
the ukulele.
In short, Invisible Stains is not for everyone. If you’re looking
for a night at the theatre with adorable characters, a sequential
storyline, a box set and you’re partial to Alan Aykbourne or Ray
Cooney – forget it. But if you’ve got an appetite for non-linear and
fragmented narrative, you derive joy from watching a thoughtfully
constructed piece, and you don’t mind thinking about what you’ve
seen for hours afterward – then this one’s terrific.
Invisible Stains runs Wednesday 21st to Sat 24th
October, Monday 26th to Friday 30th October at
7.30pm; and Tuesday 27th to Thursday 29th
October at 2pm at the VCA’s performance space, Space 28, which can
be found at 28 Dodds Street, Southbank.
And who knows – it may give you some long-term bragging rights, when
you say “I saw such-and-such back in 2009, before anyone knew who
she/he was.”
|