Warning: contains
strong language, drug and sexual references.
There’s no denying any of that.
There’s also no denying the fact that this is a searing
psychological profile with no less than a full-throated performance by Tiffany
Barton. She completely inhabits the character of June, a former New York
opera singer now stricken at the thought of leaving her apartment.
Barton is fearless
in exploring all the complexities of this larger than life diva; from the
grotesque to the outrageous; the flat out funny to the poignant; often with devastating
self-reflection. It’s in your face, immediate and compelling. What a joy to
witness an actress not only embrace but trumpet all the jagged little edges, contradictions,
hopes and fears of a character so thoroughly. June is, in part, based on a real
person so this bleeds with authenticity.
The show literally jumps out at you and at first I was taken
aback. There’s a certain shock value as we initially meet June but various
story strands slowly emerge in this meticulously crafted monologue. Two great
love affairs come to the fore – one with June’s husband Manny; the other
with the opera and performance itself. The discovery that one largely destroys
the other adds to a sense of pathos. But make no mistake; there is a fierce
determination here to enjoy all that life has to offer, with every lump and
Tosca inspired orgasm!
Underpinning this is June’s relationship with her father who
will abandon the young girl and be absent through key moments of her life. Then
there’s the reason why June can’t leave her apartment that is potent in its
understated recounting. It will resonate with any artist who aspires to
greatness.
All these strands are woven together amidst moments of manic
energy as June dresses up, sings along to her beloved opera, laments the effect
of age on her looks, consumes pills hidden in a teapot, and happily submits to
the attention of ‘Mr Buzzy’, a formidable looking vibrator. Tellingly though,
it’s the quieter moments that pack the biggest wallop – Barton and director
Helen Doig aren’t afraid to let us observe June who becomes increasingly
bizarre in appearance. Those moments of stillness and sense of vulnerability are
quite special.
There are two clever devices to allow the character to ‘perform’
and share her memories – one, improbably, is a stuffed cat called Eugene,
smothered to death by a drunken June; the other, an ingenious puppet of Manny
made of cardboard boxes and rollers. Again, having Barton ‘impersonate’ Manny,
become the innocent child who misses her Daddy, or admonish her dead cat allows
for changes in rhythm and pace that keep this unpredictable and enthralling.
The simple telephone injects a note of dread as a symbol of
the outside world (and the past) that June seemingly craves to reconnect with
but is paralysed at the very thought of. Indeed, audio cues are an important
component from the strains of opera to amusingly salacious lyrics to prompts to
snap June in and out of moments of self-reflection.
This is a well written, well directed and beautifully
crafted piece of theatre with a memorable performance that sponsored a most
interesting discussion afterwards in the lobby. Highly recommended.
Diva was written by and stars Tiffany Barton and is directed
by Helen Doig with puppets, set and costumes created by Cherie Hewson and sound by Max Porotto. Perfectly suited to the intimate black box theatre upstairs at
Spare Parts Puppet Theatre in Fremantle, it runs until 1 November as part of the Fremantle Festival.
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