Tag Archives: Gemma Barnett

AETHER

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

AETHER

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“a fascinating piece much like the women it presents”

If you’re intrigued by the idea of particle physics presented as a cabaret show involving four energetic performers stepping in and out of a variety of roles, Emma Howlett’s Aether is for you. Sixty minutes on the subject of an inscrutable universe will also give you a glancing introduction to female scientists from Hypatia in ancient Alexandria to Vera Rubin, who discovered dark matter. Meanwhile Sophie, the high powered PhD student and our protagonist, attempts to juggle particle physics and a troubled relationship with her physician girlfriend in the present day.

The feminist angle to Aether is important because it highlights perennial problems faced by female scientists working in fields dominated by men. From Hypatia’s brutal murder in ancient Alexandria to undeserved obscurity for ground breaking discoveries in recent times, women’s discoveries have been ignored or even erased. Sophie, on the other hand, has begun her career as a physicist by talking herself into a prestigious research programme that has included time at CERN, the place where every ambitious PhD student hopes to work. She is further encouraged to keep going by her tough and determined supervisor, even when Sophie is tempted to quit because she isn’t finding any answers in the enormous amounts of data she has to work through. But is it the unanswerable nature of the questions she is asking about the universe the real reason Sophie wants to quit, or is it her faltering relationship with her girlfriend? It’s not a dilemma that male scientists have admitted to in the past. Nor is it likely to gain much sympathy in any academic field where the stars are on track to win a Nobel Prize early in their careers.

There’s almost too much packed into the sixty minutes, even with the inventiveness of performers Gemma Barnett, Sophie Kean, Anna Marks Pryce and Abby McCann. Aether is part lecture, part drama. Some of the women we’re introduced to, such as magician Adelaide Herrmann, or medium Florence Cook, fit uneasily alongside a detailed explanation of Plato’s Cave, and a list of quarks to memorize. The show dazzles with the sheer amount of information presented, but there’s a risk of audience burnout. It’s not hard to identify with Sophie’s description of protons being hurled out of a Large Hadron Collider. Perhaps a longer play, and a slower pace with the lecture parts, might give the audience a chance to catch up. It is about important themes, and Sophie’s ambition, like that of playwright Howlett, deserves a chance to find the answers that every woman working in a difficult field deserves.

This play is a fascinating piece much like the women it presents. If it sends you out of the theatre with more questions than answers, don’t feel disappointed. Aether reminds us that good theatre, like good science, is worth the work it takes to understand. There’s a large universe out there, just waiting to be explored.



AETHER

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 8th August 2025 at Anatomy Lecture Theatre at Summerhall

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Giulia Ferrando | TheatreGoose

 

 

 

 

 

AETHER

AETHER

AETHER

The Beach House

The Beach House

★★★

Park Theatre

THE BEACH HOUSE at the Park Theatre

★★★

The Beach House

“It is engaging but teasing. Like an extended trailer. Or rather a pilot for a television drama series”

 

“I’m not always that easy to love” Kate explains to her girlfriend Liv. She then spends the next ninety minutes proving her point. If it stretches our patience, think what it is like for the three characters in “The Beach House”, whose entangled lives untangle before us over the course of a year or so. A year in which Kate gives birth to their baby daughter (the conception of which remains a mystery) after the couple move into a crumbling cottage by the sea. Kate’s sister, Jenny, comes and goes, upsetting the already precarious balance each time she arrives, and often more so when she leaves.

Many staple themes are touched upon in Jo Harper’s episodic play, that are unveiled in a series of snapshots. Short scenes. Vignettes of a particular moment in time. Like looking through a stranger’s photo album. We see the surface, and then rely on our imaginations to create the back story. Dramatically that is a blessing, but a burden for the performers who have little time to convince us of their complex characterisation. And they don’t always manage this in the time they have. But what they do have, in abundance, is the ability to draw you into the moment and offer more than a hint of what is going on. The cracks appear in the relationships like the leaks that spring in the roof of their rundown home.

Kathryn Bond is the pragmatic, uptight career woman. Bond cleverly plays the bully with a tender lack of self-awareness who can surprisingly elicit sympathy. The issue of post-natal depression is brushed aside and swept under her façade of impatience and overreaction. Apparently Kate has always been the controlling type, according to free spirited, little sister Jenny. Gemma Barnett has many layers through which to make her character’s voice heard but, despite her strong charisma and very watchable presence, the message becomes muffled. Gemma Lawrence’s Liv has the most light and shade. A blocked songwriter, she depends on Kate financially and emotionally. Lawrence convincingly portrays a divided soul. We marvel at her tolerance, and understand and excuse her indiscretions.

There is a lot going on here. All three characters are both culprits and victims. They are grappling with some hefty issues. Coercion, emotional abuse, infidelity, motherhood, sisterhood, abortion, betrayal, desire. It could be a whirlwind, but it is more fragile than that. Delivered gently, the real tensions are like a dark cloud on the horizon, and the performances are treading some way from the precipice.

Set in the round, Bethany Pitts staging is nevertheless starkly honest, reflected in Cara Evans’ sparse setting. The lens focuses on a single trunk centre stage, a Pandora’s Box – on which the lid is never fully lifted. A baby monitor relays some offstage dialogue, but again we expect more of a reveal from this technique. It is engaging but teasing. Like an extended trailer. Or rather a pilot for a television drama series. Now there’s an idea. The performances certainly do leave us wanting to know more. And what happens next. And what happened before. “Always leave them wanting more” they say. A fundamental rule that this company haven’t breached in “The Beach House”.

 

Reviewed on 20th February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by David Monteith-Hodge

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Julie Madly Deeply | ★★★★ | December 2021
Another America | ★★★ | April 2022
The End of the Night | ★★ | May 2022
Monster | ★★★★★ | August 2022
A Single Man | ★★★★ | October 2022
Pickle | ★★★ | November 2022
Rumpelstiltskin | ★★★★★ | December 2022
Wickies | ★★★ | December 2022
The Elephant Song | ★★★★ | January 2023
Winner’s Curse | ★★★★★ | February 2023

 

 

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