It’s a rare thing to see a piece of contemporary theatre
with so much meat to it. Socio-political context sits alongside a stunning set
consisting of retro household appliances. Throw in a dense text, an eclectic
soundtrack, movie clips (with a squinting audience leaning in to watch from a
handheld television screen), megaphones and three female performers and that
just about makes up the entire myriad of parts which make up this hour long
show.
Domestic Labour, a
Study in Love by 30 Bird, to me, is an exploration of home life, what it
means to be a doting wife, and the resentment which can develop amongst those
who spend their days cleaning up after a husband and children. The show also
explores what it feels like to live in two culturally different countries, Iran
and the UK, and the contrast between male-female equality in East and West.
There are some wonderful vignettes to cherish and which have
left an imprint in my mind since the show. Visually, the glorious eruption from
an exploding vacuum cleaner, showering dust over the performers, a bicycle
pedalled, propped on a radiator and convoluted contraptions in the form of
electronic whisk helmets, with metres of cables and leads. There are also rough
little jewels of anecdotes about holidays in the south of Spain, an Iranian
Grandmother and a rather twee but well delivered account of cycling in
Cambridge.
Despite the richness of content, I did encounter some
problems with watching the show. For the
trio of performers, the complexity of the staging and text seem overwhelming
and so there are some moments of hesitation which break magic on stage. The
slight disjointedness also gives the impression that the performers don’t fully
own or believe the text for themselves. Such a strongly feminist text about
domesticity coming from a male director, performed by a cast who look so
youthful doesn’t quite win me.
For me, such density in a show starts to detract from the
effectiveness of the message and the sentiment of the work. This is a piece
which is packed full of everything, and this evening also included a
historically contextualising post-show talk. I can’t help but feel that with
half the content, this piece could have had twice impact.
That said, the multitude of levels and media at work here mean
that it is accessible on many levels, so allows everyone who sees it to take
from it what they can glean. The wittiness in the delivery helps the challenging
context to be easier to approach. On the whole, I found this piece to be hard
work to watch, but perhaps the intensity of the ideas is actually a reflection
on the thought processes of this fatigued and fraught narrator.
Hi Lisa - sorry it's taken me so long to respond to your piece! I really enjoyed reading this, and feel you've taken on board Matt's comments about not just describing but interpreting the piece. You could still go further with not just evaluating but explaining your response with specific reference to what you saw - for instance, was there something in particular that bothered you about the director being male? How was his presence manifested?
ReplyDeleteA couple of general points that might also be useful: a really brilliant writer friend (Andrew Haydon) makes the excellent point that qualifiers such as "to me" or "for me" are redundant, because you're not writing for anyone else - this didn't occur to me until he said it, and it instantly made me notice and stop myself doing it! Secondly: it's worth re-reading your work listening out for repetitions, which can snag a reader: eg, the sentence that contains "the multitude of levels ... accessible on many levels". A lot of good writing is in rhythm: sometimes repetition can be very useful for creating rhythm, but all too easily it can rupture it.
Looking forward to reading your next review! Cheers, maddy