FringeReview UK 2024
Low Down
An hour of various visuals, some live and some on screen, accompanied by a minimalist soundscape. To understand the performance, one needs to do some preparation.
Review
The work is based on a novel by Alain Robbe-Grillet called La Jalousie. The title is a play on the double meaning of the French spelling of ‘jealousy’ as well as the French word for Venetian blinds. It was published in 1957 in the style of Nouveau Roman, a genre Robbe-Grillet helped to create. In this work he tries to have the story narrated by an invisible character that is solely implied, who spies on his wife. In his twisted mind he suspects her of having an affair with a neighbour and has taken to watch her from outside the house by looking through the half opened blinds. As the narrator is never really sure what has happened, so the reader stays in the dark about the facts. Alain Robbe-Grillet was known for his dark works, commonly involving violence, that often repeated words and scenes. The repetition is also a feature in Plantation A …
Edward Jessen (composer director) tries to recreate the effects in the novel, which makes the performance slow and at times boring. It is impossible to follow the story by what is shown on stage alone. Layer upon layer is caked on until the original becomes invisible. The effects used become a purpose in themselves and block the dramatic development. The focus of the narration is apparently A, sung with incredible skill by Anna Pych. However, A hardly appears and often when she does, she is doubled by a movement artist. Iris Athanasiadi is a gifted performer, but her character serves no discernable purpose. In fact her appearances hinder and confuse the story line. One can’t help thinking that she was part of the funding pitch and then work had to be found for her. Five well known organisations funded this work, including the ACE.
The invisible narrator is not as invisible as Robbe-Grillet had intended. In fact he opens the show, speaking through a microphone, only to then move away and take up his day job as a violin in the ensemble. The audio is then taken over by a recording. Are we now to suppose that violinist Darius Thompson is voicing the narrator? Was it lip syncing? Neither he nor the voice of Franck aka the neighbour, are credited. Franck, who in the novel is a visible character is the most invisible character in this work. Unless we are to assume that the cellist, who sits at the table with A towards the end of the story is Franck. The reason for this switch was not obvious.
The back of the stage is a huge screen behind which the instrumentalists sit. Various images are produced on the screen. Black and white footage of banana trees, a set of chairs and table on a veranda. The varandas change while the chairs and table stay the same until the very end. Towards the end of the show one of the banana trees turn green. It is a nice bright spot in an otherwise dreary setting. The soprano and movement artist wear a royal blue slip dress. The four musicians, who sadly are mostly used as stage hands, instead of players, wear some black kimono style clothing. For the majority of the time they slowly walk across the stage with furniture. Too often they come on at a snail’s pace pick up the two chairs in slow motion move off in a comic ‘here is a thief’ way to only immediately return and put the chairs back in exactly the same spot. This doesn’t happen just once and it feels contrived. Especially, as the stage is just too small for the screen, a huge table, two chairs, later a sun lounger, the singer, the movement artist and the four musicians. It gets too busy and confusing. In this crowded setting I frequently was worried about health and safety. Everyone is barefoot, but there is no dance vinyl on the floor. The backstage area, which is fully visible from the side seats, is crammed with cables and stands and everyone, but especially the musicians have to wade through that mess.
On the few occasions we hear the four piece band play more than just sound bites, they are lovely. I would have enjoyed more proper playing. The work is about 65 minutes long and the string players (Darius Thompson and Paloma Deike on violin, Sergio Serra on cello) are used probably for less than a quarter of an hour. That is a great shame. Eliza McCarthy makes full use of her postbox red digital piano. She plays piano, organ and harpsichord at various points throughout the show. Although she gets more exposure than her colleagues, she also spends most of her time traipsing around on stage doing the job of a stage hand.
The vast majority of sound is played in, often at uncomfortable noise levels. This becomes really painful, when Anna Pych, who has an agile bright soprano, moves from what sounds like articulation exercises to proper singing. The fact that she is unnecessarily miked in such a small space as the Studio 1, makes this worse. In this instant it is lucky that she only has about a dozen bars where she is allowed to sing. Music is in general very limited in this work. We are mostly subjected to samples. Some are just 1950s ads that have nothing to do with the story or where it is set. Some are just plain annoying, such as the incessant modem dial up sounds, clearly a firm favourite with the composer. I hated that sound in the 90s and was glad to see the back of modems 20 years ago, but I also could not understand why it was used in a story set in the 1950s on an Asian plantation. Much is also just two men talking; Franck and the narrator, and they are frequently hard to understand.
It must have taken an incredible amount of time to learn the show. Pych part, mostly endlessly repeated syllables that make it impossible to understand what she is actually saying, is delivered precisely like a tongue twister. She manages to put some meaning to the endless mime she has to perform. The musicians, clearly out of their comfort zone with all the movement work do a great job. Although sometimes one gets the feeling like us the audience, they themselves have actually no idea what they are doing or why they are doing it. The commitment of the performers was the only redeeming feature of this piece and they absolutely did a stellar job, but I couldn’t help feeling their skills were wasted.
The composer Edward Jessen describes his work as ‘an experimental sonic theatre work’. It certainly is experimental and sonic, I am not convinced about the theatre aspect. When you type ‘what is the purpose of theatre’ in a search engine, the results will explain that theatre is a live performance that creates dramatic cohesion. You might even get the odd article that explains that theatre for theatre’s sake is self-indulgent. Broadly, people agree with these statements and certainly the audience members I spoke to after the show thought so. They couldn’t make heads or tails of what they had just seen and were utterly confused. Even those who had read the very long and convoluted essay Jessen had written in the glossy sheet handed to us as a program. The back of it offered the names of the creative team and company, but sadly no biographies of the performers. I found this fact upsetting.
Thinking about this work for a couple of days has made me come to the conclusion that an opportunity has been missed to hear the female voice. In a post ‘Me Too’ era, I am astonished that no one thought to question the possessive and voyeuristic attitude of the narrator. No one posed the question whether Frack abused a woman in his care. I am surprised that no one suggested to commission a libretto trying to imagine what it is like for A to be constantly watched. How does she feel about the stalking? What was it like for her to be stranded with the neighbour far away from home, unprotected without the means to communicate with a person she trusts? There are so many female librettists, some of whom are well established, who could have brought A’s world alive: Exploring the eternal mental stress and gaslighting women are subjected to by toxic masculinity. Creating yet another work with two men endlessly talking about a woman they abuse is probably not what is needed in 2024.
