Perth International Arts Festival
State Theatre Centre
The curtain opens on an industrial room full of wires snaking across the stage. The wires begin to move, being pulled in opposite directions until they are taut. Voices come through the speakers and as they do, different lights flicker. A small movement from the corner, and we realise someone is sitting there. The actor comes into the light and begins to interact with the voices. What follows is a self-help loop that we realise he is trying to take in and implement. He needs to break a cycle to heal. From what?
Coming into this show knowing the background is useful not necessary. The title: Betroffenheit means extreme shock, the play deals with grief. Jonathon Young’s personal story of grief is what set this tale in motion. He lost his daughter and two of her cousins to a cabin fire. His own ‘betroffenheit’ is at the heart of this venture. He created and wrote this piece, and plays the main character. But even without knowing this, you would be quickly pulled into the raw fear, suffering and pain which exudes from this production. This is the limbo state. When you can’t move forward or backwards, and you keep reliving the trauma without resolution. The room we see is inside the main character’s mind. In this space we meet parts of his psyche, five main players who are dressed in a carnivalesque Cirque du Soleil style, who show the circular and staccato and wobbly and confusing thoughts that swirl in his brain. It is, in Young’s words, an “uncertain, half-formed landscape”.
Act One leaves you breathless. It is a cacophony of sound, light, dance, voices, emotions and movement. It is Fellini-esque. You are exhausted, as the character must be. Grief is exhausting and non-linear in its healing. This Act eloquently sums up the swirling thoughts that attack his brain and that send him towards drug addiction to escape the pain. The five performers that make up his ‘players’ – Bryan Arias, Cindy Salgado, David Raymond, Jermaine Spivey and Tiffany Tregarthen – are outstanding. My jaw actually dropped at times at the exquisitive timing and talent on show. And it was a delight to see such a diverse cast – not just of race, but of body types and styles of movement. The men - Arias was lithe and streamlined in his dancing, Raymond a powerhouse tap dancer and solid presence, Spivey an absolute delight in his elastic and springy body movements. The women – Salgado tall and thin and able to move like a contortionist, at times willowy and airy, at others grotesque and clownlike; Tregarthen a strong, beautifully muscular Amazonian dancer. This is truly an ensemble piece, and each worked like clockwork in unison.
Act Two has a different feel. Gone is the manic carnival atmosphere, here a more somber mood is portrayed. The stage is bare save for an enormous wooden beam like the trunk of an oak tree in the middle of the stage. The performers are in variations of grey and smoke starts to fill the room. This is where Young has to finally break the destructive cycle and confront what happened. He yells that he is not the victim, they are, but he is reminded that the way he is going he will become a victim. He has to confront his demons and his ‘players’ help him through. It is not fully resolved, because at the end of the day he has still lost a daughter, but he learns to live with his grief. It is real and honest and raw.
The lighting design by Tom Visser was the best I have ever seen in a show, followed closely by the sound design from Owen Belton, Alessandro Juliani and Meg Roe. The lights were an integral part of the inner workings of Young’s mind and allowed us an insight into the light and shadow that inhabit the psyche. The sound design was rich and full and so slickly produced, it was impeccable. The choreography from co-creator Crystal Pite was masterful. Taking in every type of dance style imaginable, ballroom, tap, modern dance, ballet, the result was a vision of movement as storytelling. The acoustics in the Heath Ledger theatre allowed us to hear the dancer’s breaths in stereo, which allowed an eerie feeling of being a part of the action on the stage.
There are too many moments to write about that blew me away. As Young himself says in the programme, “art can remind us that healing is possible”. This is a big show, high concept art, with a pure soul.
Sufficed it to say, I was profoundly moved and urge you to catch it if you can.