Showing posts with label James Berlyn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Berlyn. Show all posts

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Theatre: yourseven (★★★½)


Concept and direction by James Berlyn
Performed by the WA Youth Theatre Company
PICA until February 17

Years ago I delighted in Spike Milligan’s hilarious, surreal The World of Beachcomber (now, tragically, all but destroyed or lost).
One recurring skit had the great Spike attempting to prove old sayings – for example by rolling a large stone down a hillside to see if it gathered any moss.
There’s something of Ockham’s Razor in James Berlyn’s yourseven as well. Even more ambitiously, it plays out Jacques’s famous “Seven Ages of Man” speech from As You Like It by promenading its one-at-a-time audience through each of them, from cradle to grave, in the safe hands of members of the WA Youth Theatre Company.
The show is more an instillation than a performance, but that doesn’t limit its appeal or its insight into the sprit of Shakespeare’s exposure of the human condition.
In turn I became a babe in swaddling cloth, gently rocked by my unseen nurse; a schoolboy (class of ’62) with my chalk and blackboard; a lover, pining over my youthful crush (Julie Christie as it transpires); a soldier surveying the field of imminent battle; then a bellyful magistrate, weighing life’s priorities on the scales; then an aged, shrinking pensioner; and, finally, here at the end, everything used, wasted and gone.
If I have any criticism, it would be of the final tableaux, which, cleverly enough, had me pulling out lengths of string to represent my life and seeing them cut, as if by Atropos, the Greek Fate who decided mortals’ time of death.
Somehow that was too euphemistic a departure for the real horror Shakespeare saw – sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
That aside, Berlyn and WAYTC have fashioned a tantalizing look inside these famous words, and an entertaining journey through them for their audience. 

Friday, November 22, 2013

Theatre: Crash Course

Performing Lines WA
Created and performed by James Berlyn
with Sarah Nelson
Directed by Nikki Heywood
PICA until November 30

James Berlyn has constructed a language, Winfrien, of his own, and, in the hour of Crash Course, he sets about teaching it to us.
Our good work is rewarded with an encouraging “kweiloo”, as Berlyn helps – “tsoopun” – us adapt – “arn-tsunder” – to speaking – “ka-ka” – and writing – “glicken” – in this unfamiliar language.
Before the hour was up, and much to my amazement, I share with my classmates the first, dim, sense that understanding, perhaps even mastery, of Winfein isn’t unattainable. It’s an exhilarating feeling, an emotion of logic, like that which great music or dance elicits.
Berlyn delivers all this with skill and magnetism. There are little winks and nudges from the “real” world – at one point, buried so far under his Winfeinish accent you could hardly decipher them, he recited a list of English-language poets; Shakespeare, Joyce, Eliot, Yeats – but his command never drops, you never think he is talking anything but cogent, coherent Winfrien.
Crash Course was great fun, it was immensely thought provoking, and, above all, it was very, very kweiloo.


Link here to the complete review in The West Australian 

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Performance: Proximity Festival

Curated by James Berlyn and Sarah Rowbottam
Perth Institute of Contemporary Arts

Until November 2

I've never run the Trans-Sahara Marathon or tried the Swim Around Tassie, but I did attempt all three programs at the Proximity Festival at PICA in one night - and that really was a feat of human endurance.
A dozen solo acts, each performing to an audience of one, is an intriguing concept. It's immaculately organised by curators James Berlyn and Sarah Rowbottam, stage manager Mary Wolfla and their team of wranglers who move us from act to act.
It goes without saying that you're in for a range of encounters and you're going to be captivated and challenged by some acts more than others.
But if, as I was, you're going to be immersed in something for more than four hours, there needs to be an overarching sensation that drives you deeper and deeper into the experience. In that, I'm afraid, Proximity fell well short.

Link here to the complete review in The West Australian.