Tag Archives: Laura Howard

Elephant

Elephant

★★★★★

Bush Theatre

ELEPHANT at the Bush Theatre

★★★★★

Elephant

“Lucas’ script is beautiful. It is subtle and thoughtful and surprisingly funny.”

This urgent and compelling one woman show bursts onto stage with joy and with unapologetic nuance and complexity.

Writer and performer Anoushka Lucas combines live music and performance in a show which calls itself ‘part gig, part musical love story, part journey through empire’.

The play flickers between the late 1990s and late 2010s dipping into vignettes of protagonist Lilah’s life, which explore her relationship with music, race and class. These are interspersed with live songs played by Lucas on the slowly spinning piano in the centre of the stage.

Lucas’ script is beautiful. It is subtle and thoughtful and surprisingly funny. Through dissecting the historical origins of the piano and sorting through her own life, this character finds truths about the way she has been treated, and society’s tacit complicity in that. It is at once scorching social commentary and personal soul searching. The language, particularly in a motif about the butchery of elephants in the ivory trade, is startling and haunting.

“The music has a quiet lyrical beauty”

Director Jess Edwards, who also developed the piece with Lucas, makes consistently striking choices. The play is in the round, creating an intimate and conspiratorial tone. As well as creating light and shade through words and song, there are moments of physical theatre. While voiceover (by sound designed XANA) plays of Lilah’s auditions in the music industry, she morphs herself into forced shapes, using the piano as a tool to flatten herself ever further. Her extreme physicality underpins the harshness of the words.

As Lilah narrates her life she embodies her younger self, full of naive and confident enthusiasm, as well as her more reserved adult self, afraid of coming off as weird. It is a challenging performance, one which requires deft handling of emotional and physical shifts, and Lucas thrives in it.

The music has a quiet lyrical beauty. At times in comparison to the strength of the prose it leaves something to be desired. But it’s a beautiful way to break the narration and Lucas pours her soul into it.

Georgia Wilmot’s set design is masterful. The centre of the stage is a pit, with a piano and a small bookshelf. Lucas is able to clamber over these as well as play the piano. The pit itself slowly spins during the musical scenes, adding an ethereal beauty to the music.

The lighting design, by Laura Howard, is soft and pastel toned. Paper lampshades hang in the audience, glowing blue and pink, and flicker with the notes of the piano. There is a shimmering orb of coloured light which surrounds the pit, and pulsates in time with the music. It is rare to see lighting design that feels so fresh, and so exciting, while remaining tonally in keeping with the piece.

Elephant is a love story and a coming of age and a call to arms. It is a realisation of silencing and the power of speaking out. It is searing, and powerful, but strangely uplifting.


ELEPHANT at the Bush Theatre

Reviewed on 19th October 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by  The Other Richard

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Red Pitch | ★★★★ | September 2023
Paradise Now! | ★★★★★ | December 2022
The P Word | ★★★ | September 2022
Favour | ★★★★ | June 2022
Lava | ★★★★ | July 2021

Elephant

Elephant

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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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