★★★★

“we are being invited to a new kind of theatrical experience”

Claire Cunningham is a disabled artist, who performs on crutches. Predominantly known for her dance and choreography, in this affecting examination of journeys, she also draws upon her experience as a classical singer.

We begin in the lit studio, with beanbags and chairs on the stage, welcoming audience members to immerse themselves in the performance. A rumpled sheet bisects the floor, feeding into a thin AV screen, which projects surtitles and looped film. In the corner a mountain has been built with crutches, all intersecting like a molecular model or a climbing frame.

As the audience file in, Cunningham moves amongst the crowd, chatting amiably and encouraging everyone to get comfy. This sets the tone of the show – we are being invited to a new kind of theatrical experience, one which has accessibility woven into the fabric of the piece.

Cunningham welcomes us to the space and prepares us by demonstrating the extremes of light and darkness, silence and noise, making sure we know what to expect. There will be no sudden surprises.

It’s rare to feel so connected to a performer. It can also be rare to feel so relaxed and comfortable as an audience member. Cunningham’s warmth and acceptance is infectious.

As the show begins, we watch Cunningham blend physical theatre with snatches of spoken word poetry and the classical song cycle ‘Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen’ (‘Songs of a Wayfarer’) by Gustav Mahler. Parts of this are mesmerising, her voice transcendent and movement captivating.

This is an ambling, exploratory show. It takes the theme of journeys and considers it through many lenses. There are performance breaks, ebbs and lulls which are both stylistic and physically necessary for Cunningham.

There are many different elements blending together. The projected film sees Cunningham’s feet and crutches navigating different terrain, as well as shots of waterfalls and running water. The spoken word element is recorded as voiceover, overlaying the performance with lyrical Scots. Choice phrases from the Mahler lyrics are projected on the floor, reminding us to slow down and to take our time.

The messaging of the show echoes within its form. It is meandering and soothing.

This won’t be a show for everyone, certainly the pacing may be too slow for some. There are patches where the energy drops a little, or where a moment lingers too long. Some of the meaning was a little murky, and there were elements that were not immediately clear.

However, as an exploratory piece of art it is undoubtedly beautiful. Cunningham’s voice is skin-tinglingly lovely and her physicality and innovative choreography are jaw dropping.

STRANGER THAN THE MOON

The Coronet Theatre

★★★

“quietly and powerfully atmospheric”

Bertolt Brecht, during a long train journey from Ausburg to Berlin in 1920, wrote a poem he titled ‘Stranger than the Moon’. Germany at the time was still attempting to rise from the wreckage of the First World War and it was a slow, disruptive journey. Brecht knew that his poem wasn’t particularly good lyrically and that not many people would read it, but he already had a musical accompaniment in his head thus securing its place in popular music. A century later, the Berlin Ensemble – established by Brecht and his wife, Helene Weigel in 1949 – have taken the folk song’s title to create a portrait of his life in words and music. In true Brechtian style, it is a disjointed affair. At times rambling and obscure, but quietly and powerfully atmospheric.

The two actors shuffle onto the stage resembling a couple of prisoners, or factory workers, clad in seaweed-green overalls. Paul Herwig represents Brecht’s (aka B.B.) voyage from cradle to grave while Katharine Mehrling seems to be portraying his alter egos, his consciousness and desires; and the women in his life. The chronology follows a buckled, linear course along which we only find our way by picking up breadcrumbs. Scraps of biography littered among the torn-out poetry – often disconnected and hard to follow. Performed in German with English surtitles the show describes the emergence of Brecht’s personality, beginning in the womb, his later rejection of the class he was born into, his love lives, experiences of war, his exile, return home and finally his death.

Adam Benzwi is at the piano throughout. A shadowy but formidable presence he underscores the emotional content, with subtle crescendos into the musical set pieces. Mehrling’s voice floats above the accompaniment in rich, gorgeous tones. She has a style plucked straight from the Weimar era. A Lotte Lenya for the twenty-first century. She sings more than she speaks while for Herwig it is the other way around. He has a playful quality to his diction and a singing voice that is more character than perfection, resembling a ‘Baal’ era Bowie when he slips into English.

Although it is not made very clear, Brecht’s life story is being told in three distinctive parts. The days of the Weimar Republic and his first taste of success; his exile to Europe and then the United States; his return to East Berlin after the Second World War. Unfortunately, we learn very little about his life. The use of a vast video backdrop sheds no more light on the history either, and we feel there are missed opportunities which Oliver Reese’s static direction amplifies. At two hours, with no interval, the indulgent moments begin to claw at our patience. Mehrling provides some variety of expression through inspired costume changes and a more dynamic performance. We keep coming back to her voice, which is the show’s main saviour, and which lifts it from its uniformity.

The closing moments of the evening chart Brecht’s final days, and a quite beautiful melancholy closes the show. ‘Where are the tears of last evening? Where is the snow of yesteryear?’ the couple sing, from ‘Nanna’s Song’. Brecht was aware that, as he put it, ‘death is half a breath away’. Throughout his life he suffered from a chronic heart condition. Even music could induce palpitations and frequently his heart would beat too fast. Although “Stranger than the Moon” is unlikely to affect us in any similar way, it does, indeed, touch the heart.

SONGS OF THE WAYFARER

Lilian Baylis Studio

★★★★

“we are being invited to a new kind of theatrical experience”

SONGS OF THE WAYFARER at Lilian Baylis Studio

Reviewed on 4th December 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Sven Hagolani

More reviews from Sadler’s Wells’ venues:

SONGS OF THE WAYFARER

SONGS OF THE WAYFARER

STRANGER THAN THE MOON

The Coronet Theatre

★★★

“quietly and powerfully atmospheric”