With its vertically inclined seating folded up and packed away, Theatreworks becomes an egalitarian space. The audience sits amongst the performance alongside the paying spectator and the performers themselves. It is difficult ascertaining just who is here to do what. But of course, this is the purpose of erasing the demarcation between that which is to be exhibited and the purveyors of the exhibition. This relationship is a fundamental preoccupation of those who seek to construct dramatic space; one that is usually concentrated upon transforming the passive observer into an active participant. However, during this performance of The Tempest an attempt at altering the experience of the audience has a disparate resonance.
We have been summoned to the extravagant court of Prospero by an ensemble comprising recognisable theatremakers, and a group of comparative unknowns; all of who have some association with the St. Kilda Uniting Care Drop-in Centre. Pertinent then, is an ironic invitation to sketch a culinary delight on butcher's paper, only to be asked that in its consumption, were we satisfied with our meal. In reflecting the same error a more widely recognised Shakespearian character once made, Prospero will relinquish his kingdom not according to its needs, but instead, displaying an (apparent) naive conceit. Much like the recipient and devious brothers Antonio and Sebastian, the audience is also in attendance at the King's court and therefore, a consequence of Prospero’s decision to abdicate. Concurrently, the outcome of this abdication is then performed by an ensemble of individuals who in contrasting circumstances, have all spent a portion of their lives living on an artistic, or a socio-economic fringe. This is Shakespeare direct from the streets of unfashionable St. Kilda and, as the title of a popular hymn of the proletariat suggests, it's now time for the audience to 'Get a Little Dirt on their Hands'.
My eventual task will be to review this performance without submitting to platitude or patronising its participants. Furthermore, I have a responsibility to assess The Tempest for a prospective audience; one that may intend purchasing tickets. The unusual complexity associated with this task prompts a rumination upon the ethics of reviewing. I must have a disgruntled expression on my face for when I catch the eye of a trained performer his anxiety is palpable. However, the untrained performers are having the proverbial time of their lives. Marlene Foster as the witch Sycorax offers a raw, if not unique vision of the character she is playing. Most interesting is that the stylised and sinister cackle that charcterises many an actor's interpretation of a witch is also apparent in her performance. But an absence of self-consciousness from Foster results in this acting cliché being subsumed by an authentic expressive quality that is engaging because it is genuinely grotesque.
Where approaches to acting are concerned, I am an advocate of characterisation over mimicry. Jenine Parke as Ariel epitomises this view. As performer, she utilises her innate awareness of what it is to be present while being observed by other people. Consequently, her emotional contribution is significant in communicating the story of The Tempest. In various and distinctive ways, these two aforementioned tactical approaches to acting exemplify a strategy for the entire ensemble. The performer's task is to communicate form using methods for expressing emotion. Concurrently, the task of a performance is to integrate these distinctive emotional states and express them with some consistency. While there remains an unavoidable division between trained and untrained performances in this production of The Tempest, this consistency is adequately communicated.
We have been summoned to the extravagant court of Prospero by an ensemble comprising recognisable theatremakers, and a group of comparative unknowns; all of who have some association with the St. Kilda Uniting Care Drop-in Centre. Pertinent then, is an ironic invitation to sketch a culinary delight on butcher's paper, only to be asked that in its consumption, were we satisfied with our meal. In reflecting the same error a more widely recognised Shakespearian character once made, Prospero will relinquish his kingdom not according to its needs, but instead, displaying an (apparent) naive conceit. Much like the recipient and devious brothers Antonio and Sebastian, the audience is also in attendance at the King's court and therefore, a consequence of Prospero’s decision to abdicate. Concurrently, the outcome of this abdication is then performed by an ensemble of individuals who in contrasting circumstances, have all spent a portion of their lives living on an artistic, or a socio-economic fringe. This is Shakespeare direct from the streets of unfashionable St. Kilda and, as the title of a popular hymn of the proletariat suggests, it's now time for the audience to 'Get a Little Dirt on their Hands'.
My eventual task will be to review this performance without submitting to platitude or patronising its participants. Furthermore, I have a responsibility to assess The Tempest for a prospective audience; one that may intend purchasing tickets. The unusual complexity associated with this task prompts a rumination upon the ethics of reviewing. I must have a disgruntled expression on my face for when I catch the eye of a trained performer his anxiety is palpable. However, the untrained performers are having the proverbial time of their lives. Marlene Foster as the witch Sycorax offers a raw, if not unique vision of the character she is playing. Most interesting is that the stylised and sinister cackle that charcterises many an actor's interpretation of a witch is also apparent in her performance. But an absence of self-consciousness from Foster results in this acting cliché being subsumed by an authentic expressive quality that is engaging because it is genuinely grotesque.
Where approaches to acting are concerned, I am an advocate of characterisation over mimicry. Jenine Parke as Ariel epitomises this view. As performer, she utilises her innate awareness of what it is to be present while being observed by other people. Consequently, her emotional contribution is significant in communicating the story of The Tempest. In various and distinctive ways, these two aforementioned tactical approaches to acting exemplify a strategy for the entire ensemble. The performer's task is to communicate form using methods for expressing emotion. Concurrently, the task of a performance is to integrate these distinctive emotional states and express them with some consistency. While there remains an unavoidable division between trained and untrained performances in this production of The Tempest, this consistency is adequately communicated.
As a member of the audience unfamiliar with the plot of The Tempest, I decide to locate my assessment of this production in its capacity to convey the narrative of the play. Here, Prospero abdicates power for the purpose of reinstating to the throne his daughter Miranda. Antonio and Sebastian plot to murder a king while Ferdinand and Miranda find love. There occurs a monumental storm that is a typical Shakespearian metaphor for social tumult, political intrigue and eventual reconciliation; one that is charmingly represented by Ariel spraying atomised water above the heads of characters as they progress through the storm. Miranda, I believe, is returned to the throne and Prospero's canny manipulation of power results in an extended period of peace returning to the kingdom.
Sometimes bewildering and funny, at other times charming and insightful, the plot of The Tempest and its associated thematic concerns of political intrigue, as opposed to the significance of love and its function within the institution of family, are successfully navigated and revealed. But the real challenge for an audience experiencing this production will be in developing an appreciation of the recuperative power of the theatre. Judged by this standard, The Tempest appears to have been an unqualified success for all involved.
Sometimes bewildering and funny, at other times charming and insightful, the plot of The Tempest and its associated thematic concerns of political intrigue, as opposed to the significance of love and its function within the institution of family, are successfully navigated and revealed. But the real challenge for an audience experiencing this production will be in developing an appreciation of the recuperative power of the theatre. Judged by this standard, The Tempest appears to have been an unqualified success for all involved.
An adaptation of The Tempest by William Shakespeare
Director: John Bolton, Participant Drama Coordinator: Sharon Kirschner, Designer: Brian Lipson, Music Direction: Bagryana Popov, Producer: Joseph Sherman, Music Composition & Performance: Chris Bolton, Photography: Paul Dunn, Lighting Design: Shane Grant, Documentary Director & Producer: Sue Thomson, Documentary Co-Producer: Marnie Foulis, Performers: Matt King, Chris Raw, Jenine Park, Pat Nyberg, Chris Bolton, Marlene Foster, Brian Lipson, Sharon Kirschner, Joseph Sherman, Abdul-Hay Abdul-Hay, Mary-Grace Levakis, Bagryana Popov, Stewart Weir, Mark Cazaly, John Bolton, Brian Pigot, Theatreworks, May 3 - 8, Melb.
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