tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817714685413870928.post7119997778510369753..comments2023-10-30T22:07:47.149+08:00Comments on From the Turnstiles: Theatre: When the Rain Stops FallingDavid Zampattihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082889763287397214noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817714685413870928.post-85564124081429684532011-11-12T07:10:30.492+08:002011-11-12T07:10:30.492+08:00I too loved this production. All elements: staging...I too loved this production. All elements: staging, set design, actors, lighting, sound and beautiful visual effects worked in perfect harmony to realise a thought provoking and moving script.<br />A central image in my mind several days on is the initial ‘soup eating’ scene. One by one the cast assembled, spooning the broth into their bowls, ultimately sipping in unison, and the impact of those silver spoons being lifted in this austere setting was mesmerising. Of course a sombre group assembled at a supper together brings resonances to a western mind of the Last Supper, no matter the number at table, and notions of betrayal, suffering and the hope of redemption are thus brought into play.<br />A device that worked powerfully for me was the repetition of sections of dialogue, sometimes verbatim, sometimes with subtle shifts, in different context across the span of generation and families. This wove the disparate plot strands together, helping the audience to make meaning, see and feel the connections. For example, the memory, or lack of memory of the brush of a father’s bristles on a child’s cheek the smell of his aftershave. Another example, the obsessive cleaning of a drab room, a place infected by secrets and shame, followed by frenzied re-painting of it in white, off-white, yet to no avail. The rooms are in different countries , the events decade apart, yet driven by the same secrets and lies, the characters remaining mired in lonely, angry suffering. <br />The symbol of Saturn devouring his children was powerful too. At one level this play was about a father who devoured his child and gandchild’s future, as well the future of others caught in the web of events spinning out from his actions. At another level though, this play is also about all of us, how our careless greed and speed, our devouring of the bounty of the planet steals the future form our progeny. The final symbol of Diderot’s dressing gown was astounding, I gasped as it was pulled from its box, and was taken back to the scene where this Gabriel’s Grandmother, in her youth, had told us the story of Diderot’s new gown, and the dissatisfaction this had ultimately brought to him. Of his need to make new, to keep consuming to assuage the desire set off by this one new garment.<br />Indeed Black Swan, the best was saved until last this year, a play that was beautiful to watch, and made its audience think and reflect long after the auditorium was silent.Jennyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08809126033873187890noreply@blogger.com