FringeReview UK 2026
Ashes and Diamonds
A Paper Breadcrumbs Production.
Genre: Autobiography, Biographical Drama, Contemporary, Fringe Theatre, Historical, New Writing, Political, Short Plays, Solo Play, Theatre
Venue: White Bear Theatre, Kennington
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
It’s always 11.15. A woman walks on and asks what we’re all doing here. And crying. Tosia is 102 and her life’s been ashes and diamonds but that’s no excuse. Gail Louw’s Ashes and Diamonds starring Elizabeth Counsell plays at the White Bear Theatre, Kennington directed by long-time collaborator Anthony Shrubsall till May 16.
Exceptionally humane, humanly absorbing. It’s always 11.15. Till it isn’t.
Review
It’s always 11.15. A woman walks on and asks what we’re all doing here. And crying. Tosia is 102 and her life’s been ashes and diamonds but that’s no excuse. Gail Louw’s Ashes and Diamonds starring Elizabeth Counsell plays at the White Bear Theatre, Kennington directed by long-time collaborator Anthony Shrubsall till May 16.
The square space is festooned with artwork rounded like a scurf around two edges of the stage; with an escritoire and more papers flittering down. Counsell’s dressed in a light blue gown and her character resents it. Where’s her Chanel suit? Slowly Tosia’s interlocutor seems revealed as her daughter Ronnie, who seems to resent her equally. And Tosia’s story spools out. It happens to be true.
Born on December 16 1920 Sara’s family relocates from Poland after much anti-Semitism, to Antwerp. Sara is invited by her schoolteacher to take on a “lovely non-Jewish name”. So chooses Antoinette and her family call her Tosia. Tosia grows up extremely bright, and very inquisitive, but why does her daughter Ronnie, a psychologist with the NHS, keep interrogating her so harshly?
Growing up in Antwerp’s Jewish area, Tosia’s wish to be an architect or artist is vetoed. Her job is to marry and indeed at a dance she finally gets away from her blocking brothers (who loom like guards); and she meets diamond merchant Saul, who wanted to be a rabbi: they click. But their engagement party is May 8 1940 and soon history rains down in parachutes. And Saul’s right. They have to flee again. Saul cannot persuade his own family to leave, but Tosia’s at least have no such qualms.
What follows is a detailed, pacey and breathless account of what must be a universal experience of millions, now repeated again. And that’s Louw’s point: a deeply humane one. In 1940 this country wasn’t welcoming to refugees but had little option, and fleeing there with Saul’s connections in London are their only option. Much of the flight to Calais seems here – in Counsell’s hands and Louw’s telling – to recall wartime accounts such as are found in Irene Némirovsky’s Suite Francaise. There’s echoes too of the narrating character of Louw’s semi-fictional 2022 novel Rika’s Rooms, which Louw later turned into another one-person play. Ashes though is far more closely grounded in fact.
The refugees are repeatedly strafed by Stukas and other Nazi planes. A lucky anxious family on a cart are killed. Lacking babies’ nappies the family splits and endure two very different journeys.
However in this case Tosia’s family get to the last boat from Calais to Folkstone. Even here the men are barred, but Saul is intrepid. Accounts of the boat, and lifejackets, resonate. As does Tosia’s now less detailed life as she takes over the diamond business – a canny move of Saul’s had served them well – all through the war: whilst Saul serves in Free Dutch Intelligence. The other half of her family were turned away from the US. Having got to Portugal. But find sanctuary in Cuba, and to Cuba after the war Tosia must go. Her reasons are complex, and Louw uses Tosia’s defensive answers, which cover several surprises. Counsell throughout is sovereign at pointing up Tosia’s surprise, her half-second flinch of hurt and small delusions.
Though Louw concertina’s this latter tale of prosperity and trophyism, a life of children grandchildren and great-grandchildren, this is the crux of Ronnie’s complaint. Litanies of neglect, preferential treatment of her elder sister Cecile’s children emerge. It’s fascinating as Louw keeps up the pressure and Counsell twitches every nerve of Tosia to remonstrate, barter, complain. Quite what it is that motivates Tosia is to an extent laid bare. But even Ronnie’s experience can’t seem to probe Tosia’s decisions. And a tragedy that later befalls her family that stops Tosia’s creative vein.
Producer Simon Beyer with Counsell, Shrubsall and stage manager Catalina Diaconescu collaborate on the set itself and costume. Beyer sculpts the subtle lighting and sound design which proves pin-sharp with narrative, as Counsell shades to a moment instantly lit or sounded.
There’s no praise too high for Counsell’s performance. She makes of what is a limited range of nuances, being a one-woman play, a Fabergé egg of voices and inflections; and one querulous woman’s truth.
This isn’t the most sheerly dramatic of Louw’s one-person plays, and there’s no great reveal, as in two or three. But it is one of the most carefully-calibrated and satisfying of her storytelling arcs: details nudge delusions. Something of the experience of writing a full-length novel in Rika’s Rooms, then dramatising it, seems to have inflected elements of this. Counsell’s acting though adds something approaching mastery to the production.
The pulse of time runs its course over 65 minutes 11.15 lasts a long time. This is an absorbing and superbly troubled account of how trauma and decisions can shape not only one life but transmit down generations. And the value of seeing everyone wearing an orange lifejacket as people who escape for a reason and claim the greatest reason to be allowed a soft landing. Exceptionally humane, humanly absorbing. It’s always 11.15. Till it isn’t.
With thanks to Ronnie, Michael David, Fran and family, Michael and staff at the White Bear Theatre. Photo Credit: Paddy Gormley. A Paper Breadcrumbs Production.
