The cobblestoned forecourt of The Meat Market is abandoned and the audience for this performance of Africa shuffles through a patchwork portal into the theatre. A similar sheet of decorated material momentarily conceals the stage from view, before it falls away and the set-design is revealed. Toys occupy a sequence of ascending levels that are eventually capped by a doorway and two half-windows. Among others, a blue, plastic scooter, two yellow dump trucks and a multicoloured spinning top assert into this average suburban household the sensibility of a fairy-tale. Three scruffy puppets emerge from amongst this scattered mess as if they have been selectively animated: a boy in basketball uniform, a girl in blue dress and a yellow haired baby who can barely manage a mumble. Meanwhile, as each child surreptitiously listens to a recognisable human presence in the hallway, their emotions are manipulated by a snappily dressed couple in preparation for a night on the town. The torsos of this surrogate father and birth mother are partially concealed by opaque partitions that imply neglect for the children, who will remain at home. This image of pre-occupied parents who unintentionally damage the lives of their kids is the defining metaphor of Africa. As a nevertheless precise and powerful statement of family breakdown, there is also a second, somewhat murky metaphorical presence in Africa; that of a journey to the ‘deep and dark continent’ functioning as an expression of the ruthless human heart. The racial implication of this representational debate has circulated in literary circles for years. In particular, Joseph Conrad’s novella Heart of Darkness, although empathetic to humanitarian values, is often criticised for its dated and inappropriate use of white-black contrast as a poetic indicator of the presence of good and evil in the primitive human heart. Unfortunately, no-one appears to have mentioned this to My Darling Patricia. Furthermore, the potential for unintentional racial discrimination as outlined above is an immediate distraction from what is clearly an inventive performance, and will have to be navigated very carefully as Africa proceeds.
The kids watch a television documentary about Africa and this is accompanied by a narrated monologue that indicates their fantasy to escape from what is a troubled home. The usual images of lion and wildebeest roaming the savannah are then usurped by the children and their actual preparation to attend an airport and fly to Africa. Packed and ready to go, their flight plan is permanently delayed by a disbelieving mother. Once again returning to the sibling rivalry associated with kids and their toys, the children absorb the sullen domestic situation that surrounds them.
Mum is not only overwhelmed by the task of caring for three kids. She is also forced to submit to the puerile demands of a degenerate surrogate-father who encapsulates the stereotypical characteristics of the standard abusive male. Domestic violence, rape, pedophilia and an inability to sustain genuine intimacy are the traits of this emotional basket-case. Mum throws this knuclehead out several times but like the smell of rotting fish his disturbing odour has insinuated itself into her desperate need for comparative male company. Meanwhile, the kids quietly become increasingly obsessed with Africa. In particular, the adolescent boy imagines he sees a stealthy leopard laying wait in long grass that emerges on-stage, then silently disappears. Africa, it would appear, is the primal destination for the emotional disturbance accumulating in the boy. The dubious metaphorical value implied by this journey is, for a completely different reason, equally disturbing; it is difficult not to anticipate the boy’s arrival at the awkward if not discriminatory destination of the implied ‘dark heart’. But as the performance progresses it increasingly becomes clear that My Darling Patricia and their erroneous choice of metaphor has been made with the best of intentions. Its use remains a naive counterfeit but this performance and its emphasis upon the unintentional neglect thrust upon vulnerable children is an obvious indication that the performance Africa has its origins in a warm, humanitarian heart.
The machinations of domestic abuse as these are performed in Africa do not equate with its abrupt ending. For an undisclosed reason, one that appears to be related to either financial duress or a desire to evade child welfare authoritarianism, the family home is forcibly abandoned. Mum, her daughter and baby, leave in a car presumably driven by the aforementioned knucklehead. Perhaps in spite of his mother and her token attempt at convincing him to join the family elsewhere, the adolescent boy refuses to leave. The family is driven away and darkness envelopes the boy. Dressed in his basketball uniform, he is a child on the cusp of adulthood who will have no choice but to develop a ferocious exterior if he is to survive in an arbitrary world. The long grass of the African savannah once again rises up around him. This time, the stalking leopard and its growl is also the accumulative persona of the boy and his decision to protect himself by the most brutal means available. Hungry for love, attack will be his best method of defence. Here, Africa and its pessimistic conclusion is entirely appropriate when considered alongside other deluded attempts at denying the grim actuality of an urban childhood. But it would also have been worthwhile for an audience to have experienced a further final scene that elaborated upon the boy and his admittedly stunted ability to integrate his damaged persona into an external world. Here, Africa would be less a well-intentioned dramatisation of the dubious poetics that can shape the lives of many children and instead, an investigation into their durability and an admirable capacity to substantiate their self-worth in a world which kids sometimes feel is completely alien to their needs.
Africa: Conceived, Designed and Created by My Darling Patricia: Concept: Sam Routledge, Writer-Director: Halcyon Macleod, Design: Clare Britton & Bridget Dolan, Composer-Sound Designer: Declan Kelly, Puppets: Bryony Anderson, Lighting Designer: Lucy Birkinshaw, Dramaturgy: Chris Ryan, Props & Set: Tim McGaw, Sound Operator: Marco Cher-Gibard, Production Manager: Bindi Green, Performers-Puppeteers: Michelle Robin Anderson, Anthony Ahern, Clare Britton, Sam Routledge & Jodie Le Vesconte, Presented by Artshouse & Mobile States, April 27 - 30, Meat Market, Melbourne.
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