THE SOUND OF ABSENCE
Omnibus Theatre
★★★
“a brave and exposing piece of theatre”
Dylan Thomas’ poem, ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’, was supposedly written for his dying father. It has no title other than its first line which appears as a refrain throughout the poem along with its other refrain; ‘Rage, rage against the dying light’. The repetition gives it a cyclical structure, encapsulating the intensity of grief that the writer seems unable to escape from. It is fitting, then, that the rhythm, and the musicality, of Thomas’ words are echoed throughout Yanina Hope’s experimental play with music, “The Sound of Absence”.
Like the poem, it is uninterested in sentimentality. Indeed, Hope dwells on the ‘Rage’ for much of the time. Inspired by her own relationship with her father, the writer and performer – Yanina Hope – has put herself centre stage to grapple with the complex emotions under the audience’s up-close gaze. Hope takes on the persona of Lenore, recalling the events of how she rushes to an Intensive Care Unit hundreds of miles away where her father is lying, only to arrive too late. What follows is an analytical look at the stock feelings that are inherent in the aftermath, and a look at the relationship she never had.
The premise is not overly innovative, cataloguing the five stages of grief, although Lenore never seems to pass beyond the first two. What sets this piece apart, though, is the musical underscore. There is no set – just an imposing grand piano. Composer and pianist, Vladyslav Kuznetsov, plays throughout. It provides a beautiful backdrop; Kuznetsov’s sensitive style matching his compositions that reflect the words being spoken. A compelling and haunting device that unfortunately becomes victim to the success of its intentions. Despite wearing a headset mic, Hope often goes unheard in the mix; yet it is not just the sound mix that severs the connection between prose and music. It often feels like two separate narratives, and being pushed into choosing which one to follow, the piano wins. It feels improvised but Kuznetsov’s skill lies in non-conventional melodies, mixing crashing chords that give way to a softer undertow of mournful arpeggios. This tidal pattern draws us in, guiding us through Hope’s monologues.
The spoken word has less impact. Hope’s vocal cadences spanning a more limited range than the musical canvas they are given. There is little need, too, for Anna Korzik’s movement direction which appears random and has no reason beyond style for style’s sake. Director Ivanka Polchenko does well to integrate the many disciplines the play offers, but the connection is tenuous. There are moments when we feel we are watching a drama exercise which detaches our own emotional ties to the performance.
Yet this is a brave and exposing piece of theatre. Hope prowls the stage intent on sniffing out and pinning down her whirlwind of emotions. The varying degrees of success is inevitable – many are beyond her grasp and they get away, although she does capture some moments of poignancy. The grief of arriving at her father’s bedside too late is counterbalanced by the revealed knowledge of his final words – and their echoing reassurance. However, the words fade faster into the night, and it is the music that lingers after curtain call. The two could be perfect partners, but each are dancing to their own tune. Nevertheless, it is genuine, heartfelt and important, with the definite potential to be something quite compelling.
THE SOUND OF ABSENCE
Omnibus Theatre
Reviewed on 24th February 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Valya Korabelnikova
