Tag Archives: Ayesha Ostler

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

★★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★★

“an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed”

Even one hundred and thirty years after his death, we still haven’t got the pronunciation of Vincent Van Gogh’s name quite right (the Americans are even further off the mark). Which is why Vincent initially introduces himself as ‘Mr Vincent’ in Nicholas Wright’s subtly evocative and brilliantly crafted play “Vincent in Brixton”. Vincent’s frustration is matched by his bewilderment at the English way of life, coupled with a desire to fit in. “I’m learning diplomatic English” he proudly proclaims. But there are other barriers too, most notably his innocent directness and tactlessness – a raw naivety that exposes secrets. This often starts him off on the wrong foot, but Dutch actor Jeroen Frank Kales paints a profoundly endearing picture of the post-impressionist painter in all his eccentricity and candour.

We are in Brixton in the 1870s, where the young Vincent has arrived to work as an art dealer for his family’s business. His heart isn’t in it (we soon learn that his heart is elsewhere) and his own latent artistic talent is still yet to be realised. He moves into the home of widowed teacher Ursula Loyer (Niamh Cusack) and her daughter, Eugenie (Ayesha Ostler). Unaware that Eugenie is secretly and romantically entangled with fellow lodger Sam Plowman (Rawaed Asde), Vincent immediately falls for her with brash inappropriateness, only to rapidly transfer his affections to her mother. It all sounds a touch callous and furtive, but the writing and the acting is so faultlessly accomplished and convincing that what unfolds is a touching story of the transforming power of love. Cusack, dressed in black and still mourning her late husband after fifteen years, shifts from melancholy to pure radiance that has our hearts beating with joy (temporarily… there are twists and reveals in the script that you need to go and find out for yourself).

The attention to detail is extraordinary. Designer Charlotte Henery’s nineteenth century lodging house is beautifully created. Take note – dine well before seeing this show; the aromas of melting butter and roasting lamb will have you salivating while a meal is prepared in real time. References to Van Gogh’s future works are ingeniously and discreetly slotted into the dialogue and the blocking (look out for the pair of boots). Wright has created an artwork in itself, which director Georgia Green has framed with an artist’s eye for perfection.

The story may or may not be true. The events are historically accurate, but the affairs are speculative, yet in this company’s hands they are convincingly real and heartfelt. Kales’ merciless honesty is lovable and hilarious in equal measure. It never takes long for him to smooth the bristles he invariably triggers in others. Ostler’s Eugenie demonstrates the right mix of disdain and affection, while Sam is unfazed by the intrusion and potential rivalry. Asde plays him with a cheeky grin and a sparkling glint in his eye, self-assured in himself but hesitant in his ambitions. The arrival of Vincent’s sister, Anna, is like a brisk wind that has crossed the North Sea. A masterstroke of casting, Amber Van Der Brugge bears a striking resemblance to Kales, along with the same unfiltered, bull-in-a-china-shop way with words, albeit more extreme and officious. Righteous and evangelistic, she drops bombshells as though cracking eggs for a light breakfast. The humour is reinforced by some of Wright’s glorious one-liners, yet we are never detracted from the heart of the story.

This heart belongs to Cusack and Kales. The dynamics seemingly unfeigned and the incongruous passion believably touching. “A woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved”, wrote the real Vincent in a letter to his brother. The sentiment is a leitmotif that runs through the play, but it never becomes a sentimental platitude. We are left unsure as to whether the love lasts – a symbolic, candle-snuffing cue to blackout hints at an ending – yet the feeling of joy remains long after curtain call. “Vincent in Brixton” is an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed. Chaotic and intimate, complex but quotidianly accessible. Biographical dramas often fail to convince in an effort to cover too much epic ground. By focusing on a snapshot, whether true to life or not, we are rewarded with a vibrant portrait of life, love and art. What more can you ask for? An unmissable show – although I regret to say that, unless you have bought your ticket already, you may have missed your chance.



VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 20th March 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson


 

 

 

 

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

THE INSEPERABLES

★★★

Finborough Theatre

THE INSEPERABLES

Finborough Theatre

★★★

“there is a lightness to this interpretation, and a guarded feel that at times shields its essence”

Rather than her novels, Simone de Beauvoir’s most enduring contribution to literature are her memoirs. It is no surprise, therefore, that the novelist, philosopher and feminist activist’s works of fiction also contain strong elements of autobiography. Particularly her early novella, “The Inseparables”, which describes her relationship with her classmate – Elizabeth Lacoin. Also known as ‘Zaza’, she crops up in other novels in disguised form, so it is evident that she had a lasting impact on de Beauvoir’s life. “The Inseparables” was never published during her lifetime. Jean Paul Sartre disapproved of it, and it was deemed ‘too intimate’ at the time. There has been much conjecture since as to whether they were ‘just friends’. There is no evidence of a physical relationship, but it is hard to deny that there was an attraction and erotic tension between the two of them.

Grace Joy Howarth’s stage adaptation is a faithful recreation of the adolescent relationship, although it does little to suggest why it was considered too provocative for publication in the nineteen-fifties. Set during, and just after, the first world war in France, it kicks off with the first encounter between schoolgirl Sylvie Lapage and new pupil, Andrée Gaillard. Sylvie had previously prayed for an end to the war, but the answer arrives in the form of this beguiling new classmate. Lara Manela captures Andrée’s playful tone, and Ayesha Ostler, as Sylvie is suitably captivated. Both portray the wide-eyed wonder of nine-year-olds without seeming childish. The subtle mannerisms illustrate the precociousness, but neither is afraid to wallow in youthful exuberance.

Sylvie (the fictional de Beauvoir) is bored and intellectually lonely, so meeting this clever, irreverent girl changes her life. Andrée is physically confident and has a talent for literature and music. It is easy to see why Sylvie would be attracted, and likewise Andrée’s fascination with Sylvie’s vulnerability that Ostler conveys so convincingly. However, beyond this, the chemistry is somewhat lacking, barely penetrating the intellectual veneer. Sylvie talks as much to the audience as to Andrée, which is a neat device that director Anastasia Bunce uses to good effect, but the writing leaves little room for the underlying eroticism and tension. The scenes are short and sharp, sometimes leaving the two, multi-rolling supporting cast – Caroline Trowbridge and Alexandre Costet-Barmada – breathless from their rebounding entrances and exits.

The second act finds the girls on the cusp of adulthood, Andrée now betrothed to Pascal Blondel (a slightly restrained Costet-Barmada). The tables have turned, and Sylvie is supposed to be the more subversive influence. The play never really gets to grips with the rebelliousness, and we are distanced further from the knowledge that these characters are representations of historically significant individuals. We are steered towards some poignancy in the final scenes, but the sense of inseparableness is never fully realised by Ostler and Manela. When Sylvie declares of Andrée that “life without her would be death”, the words aren’t quite supported by the emotion.

Abraham Walking-Lea’s lighting evokes the setting, reinforced by Jessica Brauner’s more literal video backdrops. Metaphorical flourishes are thrown in by Bunce, sometimes illuminating (the symbolic significance of Andrée’s violin); at other times confusing (the scattering of roses to depict an act of self-harm). But overall, there is a lightness to this interpretation, and a guarded feel that at times shields its essence. With its engaging central performances, it glides safely through the pivotal episodes of the novel. The story calls for a less gentle ride though. With more passion. The original question of whether they were ‘just friends’ is left unaddressed and long forgotten. But we do get a good feel of the camaraderie, and mutual regard, even if we are not quite convinced that they are inseparable.

 



THE INSEPERABLES

Finborough Theatre

Reviewed on 17th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by A.J. Halsey and Melanie Silva

 

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE PASSENGER | ★★★★ | February 2025
KAFKA | ★★ | June 2024
THE TAILOR OF INVERNESS | ★★★ | May 2024
BANGING DENMARK | ★★★ | April 2024
FOAM | ★★★★ | April 2024
JAB | ★★★★ | February 2024
THE WIND AND THE RAIN | ★★★ | July 2023
SALT-WATER MOON | ★★★★ | January 2023
PENNYROYAL | ★★★★ | July 2022
THE STRAW CHAIR | ★★★ | April 2022

THE INSEPERABLES

THE INSEPERABLES

THE INSEPERABLES