FringeReview UK 2026
Aether
theatregoose
Genre: Absurd Theatre, Cabaret, Comedy, Contemporary, Costume, Drama, Feminist Theatre, Fringe Theatre, Historical, LGBTQ+ Theatre, Mainstream Theatre, New Writing, Political, Short Plays, Surrealism, Theatre
Venue: Jermyn Street Theatre
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
Hot from the Edinburgh Fringe, Emma Howlett’s Aether arrives for its London premiere at Jermyn Street Theatre directed by Howlett for her company theatregoose till April 4. Helps if you’re with an illusionist gone dark on themselves, a teenage medium who’s gone the other way, which helps when you’re communicating with a long-neglected astronomer and a murdered mathematician.
Exciting, boppy, mind-enlarging, sometimes thrilling
Review
“Disembodied voices tend to alarm, we’ve found.” Impossibly the microphone moves the direction goes. But will it? And the quartet apparate from behind the blue curtains of the universe. Resolve the greatest knots of physics, faith and magic in a twist. Is there nothing a PhD student cannot do? Hot from the Edinburgh Fringe, Emma Howlett’s Aether arrives for its London premiere at Jermyn Street Theatre directed by Howlett for her company theatregoose till April 4. Helps if you’re with an illusionist gone dark on themselves, a teenage medium who’s gone the other way, which helps when you’re communicating with a long-neglected astronomer and a murdered mathematician. You’re surrounded by them, the matter you don’t know. They’re the buffalo and you’re the fly. Aether itself is simple, as endless as discovery.
Though by the end you’ll wonder if dark matter is really the host of invisible women scientists made invisible by eons of patriarchy. Howlett doesn’t quite say this but both the infinite and several women’s capacity to contemplate it are at the heart of this dizzying work. Already compared to Tom Stoppard, in particular Arcadia, Lucy Kirkwood’s 2017 Mosquitoes comes to mind: especially as the Hedron collider centres both. Of course it resembles neither in this cabaret of the stars. Above all though this is extremely watchable, mostly extremely clever and fizzes with ideas rendered theatrical, funky and flagrant. Aether never nods for an instant, though you sometimes hope it might; in a good way.
Though they’re designated by numbers One to Four as ensemble and choric members, each actor is given their particular character to anchor. In a sense this is where problems start. So Sophie who centres the storyline is a Cambridge PhD student (Sophie Kean also playing One); she’s also a ‘straight’ act rubbing against others. The most sheerly theatrical might be comedically adept Abby McCann (medium Florence and her apparition Katie, a lorgnetted librarian and Two). As Two, and a Quark particle McCann is first equivocally flattered by host and theoretical physicist Steven Weinberg (played by Kean); McCann scoops up cabaret energy, exudes high spirits and sudden chill.
Anne Marks Price as illusionist Adelaide enjoys another peripheral role (with a bullet-catch moment) but as Sophie’s doctor Girlfriend she suddenly snaps into focus: as well as playing Three. Marks Price captures the exasperated hospital medic looking for connection after a hard day’s dying, from obsessive Sophie. It’s where the six billion collisions of the Collider seem to have loaned out a few pelting the couple’s intimate relationship; or lack of it. There’s a sad kindliness here trying to salvage love from obsession. It flickers across goofy infinity and though it’s only a sketch Marks Price makes it land briefly. Emotional connections like these carry stories and ideas.
We’re told there’s five stories of women. One is curiously recessed, which fits her work leading to the discovery of red and blue shifts: astronomer Henrietta Swan Leavitt (1868-1921) isn’t mentioned by name. Sadly just as well Jocelyn Bell, discoverer of pulsars is left out. Though the point is an ensemble skeltering particles, it’s good to have markers and more definition; perhaps less bit-characters.
Similarly Gemma Barnett as the great Alexandrian mathematician Hypatia (horribly murdered 415 AD) seems to be a character echoed as Sophie’s canny Cambridge supervisor, as well as playing the cabaret Four). Barnett lends wry humanity to both roles; interaction with Kean grounds both. Best is when Kean is split between Marks Price and Barnett in a three-way temporally compressed showdown.
Thus over the course of an hour, each actor’s lent an equal character. Strands are continually shuttled. Three would have been ample as not all can be nourished. Ellie Wintour’s set of a universe-blue curtain and a few props (like overhead projector) and slinky black onesie costumes lend a cabaret feel, which lit by Ed Saunders sometimes works very well. Especially when top hats are broken out. The moments red or blue lights come on, denoting red and blue shifts for instance – light coming towards or away from us, are, well enlightening. The chiaroscuro thrown up over the medium’s face is briefly atmospheric. But uniformity of presentation and jazzy ensemble pieces mean the material isn’t differentiated enough. We need more lighting cues, a different pace. Everything’s colliding. That’s to a degree or PhD intentional, but. Since Sarah Spencer’s music and sound is relatively deft and restrained (necessary in this space), lighting and props do most of the atmosphere lifting.
There’s brief audience participation, when everyone is invited to draw a Ptolemaic universe (don’t worry, it’s not arduous, just geocentric), though this could have been taken further. This show is exciting, boppy, mind-enlarging, sometimes thrilling. It also needs to breathe a bit beyond its fringe-time of 60 minutes, and its fringe minimalism.
