FESTIVAL THEATRE | Reviews
CIARA A powerful portrait of Glasgow from David Harrower ●●●●●
Glasgow: famous for its art, infamous for its criminality. A cliché, perhaps, but one rendered with a compelling combination of insightful poetics, sharp humour and nauseating veracity in David Harrower’s excellent one-woman play. Blythe Duff is totally captivating as Ciara, the gangster’s daughter and gallery owner for whom a proximity to art is a supposedly civilising influence. From the outset of this Traverse production, directed with lovely fluidity by Orla O’Loughlin, there is a discernible and disconcerting incongruity between Duff’s costume (a kind of overwrought Attic chic) and designer Anthony Lamble’s superb set; a bleak, premonitory brick warehouse, with a single mattress and a sinister metal chain suspended from the ceiling.
As Duff begins to speak – describing a painting, in which a giantess appears to sleep behind the city of Glasgow – one is lulled, briefly, into a false sense of security. Ciara’s sense of the picture, and of the city, contrasts with her husband’s lumpen crudeness (the painting should, he says, be called Attack of the 50-Foot Weegie). We are in comfortable territory, the aesthete and her philistine spouse.
However, the narrative that follows is an unsettling reminder of Harrower’s extraordinary ability to unfurl, from a single character, a drama of universal pertinence. Ciara’s life (in which crime is the only negation of poverty, violence and intimidation the stock-in-trade) is like a Pandora’s box. Harrower lifts the lid, and Duff gives brilliant, lyrical, sardonic, agonised expression to a Glasgow of well-heeled, ignorant art investors, vengeful, honour- seeking drug barons and darkly comic, enduring religious sectarianism. There are other Glasgows, of course, but there is a resonating truth in this one. (Mark Brown) ■ Traverse, 228 1404, until 25 Aug (not 12, 19), times vary, £18–£20 (£13–£15).
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THE VEIL (LE FOULARD) Yes, but is it art? ●●●●●
Her training in French mime – and having won Best Performer at Adelaide Fringe 2013 – gives Lucy Hopkins the perfect position to deconstruct the pomposity of the contemporary artist. With only a scarf, and a range of personalities fighting for attention, Hopkins ponders the potential of physical performance to be self indulgent.
Both an analysis of the subconscious disguised as slapstick comedy, and a terse satire on self- indulgence, The Veil allows Hopkins to showcase precise physical and vocal skills. Spinning between three main characters, she pictures an individual in crisis, tottering on the brink of mental collapse while maintaining moral superiority to those in the audience.
Hopkins parodies the exaggerated mannerisms
of much physical theatre, yet her own control is astonishing: the veil becomes a tool to mark shifts of mood and personality. Witty and daring, Hopkins’ interaction with the audience and revelation of her vulnerability are hilarious and poignant – The Veil represents a beautiful synthesis of intelligent experimental theatre and physical craft, even as it mocks its excesses. (Gareth K Vile) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 12, 19), 4.20pm, £8.50–£11 (£7.50–£10).
76 THE LIST FESTIVAL 8–15 Aug 2013
DARK VANILLA JUNGLE Powerfully unsettling story of a girl’s descent into horror ●●●●● SOMNAMBULES AND THE 7 DEADLY SINS Eye-catching physical theatre from Karavan Ensemble ●●●●●
Fifteen-year-old Andrea has been failed by the people she trusts most: her parents, her best friend, her first love. She, too, has done terrible things – but she’s not ashamed. This one-woman show is a furious story about a girl condemned to society’s dirtiest, most forgotten corners, and the effect that her deteriorating life has on her psyche. But what makes Andrea herself so interesting is that she’s no down-on-her-luck Annie: she’s vulnerable and abused, yes, but – or perhaps as a result – she can also be funny, offensive, sick and even, at times, culpable. She’s difficult to like, and harder to understand.
Philip Ridley’s complex and disturbing script
would be too much for a lesser actor, but Gemma Whelan (unrecognisable from her recent role in Game of Thrones) is astonishing. She has absolute command of time – flitting between childhood recollection, trauma and sudden rage – and mesmerising ownership of her character. Don’t see this show expecting to feel sorry for an abused schoolgirl: it’s a lurid, unsettling horror story, told with breathtaking power. (Charlotte Runcie) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 3pm, £9–£11 (£7.50–£10).
It starts in dramatic fashion: a scientist in a lab coat, singularly lit at the side of the stage and hunched over a desk, begins twitching violently. It’s the first clue that we are entering the realm of the subconscious, as our somnambulist of the title slips into a trance-like state. Soon the white-coated character finds a patient and the two are drawn into a surreal world. Award-winning performers Tanya Khabarova (from Russian physical theatre company Derevo) and Yael Karavan effectively evoke the sensation of being immersed in an unsettling dream in this visually captivating show. Simple props, such as swathes of white cloth and a large circular mirror are used imaginatively and numerous scenes stand out for their originality.
But beneath the aesthetics it’s difficult to find something to grasp onto, meaning that as this strange, abstract journey hurtles towards its apocalyptic ending, it doesn’t quite succeed in taking the audience along with it. (Gail Tolley) ■ Summerhall, 0845 874 3001, until 25 Aug (not 12,19), £11 (£9).