During a time of rebellion a servant girl rescues the baby
of the deposed Governor and flees into the mountains leaving behind her
beloved, a soldier off to fight in the ensuing war. She eventually reaches her
brother’s farm and safety where she raises the baby as her own, now trapped in
a marriage of (in)convenience. Two years later and they are discovered with the
Governor’s wife demanding that the baby be returned. A trial is convened
presided over by Azdak, a man elevated to the lofty position of judge in the
most unusual of circumstances. He devises an unexpected method by which to
decide custody of the child.
This sumptuously visual and aurally rich production is the
first international collaboration for Black Swan in conjunction with The
National Theatre of China. Written by German playwright Bertolt Brecht, directed
by Dr Wang Xiaoying, and featuring an Australian ensemble it is a fascinating
mixture of storytelling styles and culture. Exquisite costumes (Zhao Yan) and
masks (Prof Zhang Huaxiang) are matched as a highlight by the superb
accompaniment of local indigenous musicians on guitar/vocals and percussion (Dr Clint Bracknell and Arunachala).
Australian accents abound including the broadest of Strine as the servant girl,
Grusha (Alex Malone), encounters a variety of colourful characters along her
journey.
There is a meeting of three distinctive styles – a form of
Chinese theatre known as Beijing Opera; the traditional oral storytelling of
indigenous Australians as embodied by Lynette Narkle, the ‘Old Woman’ who sets
the scene; and the play within a play construct by Brecht as part of his ‘epic
theatre’ movement.
Added to this is the inclusion of songs that inform the
narrative and move it forward in impressive style. The lyrics are projected as
surtitles in both English and, as I was informed by the couple sitting next to
me, modern Chinese characters.
The backdrops were
deceptively effective – three layers of jagged curtains that when lit
represented the mountains and other locations with a real sense of depth. My
well informed fellow audience members also remarked how reminiscent this was of
Chinese oil paintings.
As you enter the theatre, the company are warming up in
their blacks which included Black Swan t-shirts! Two racks of costumes are
onstage as well as a rack of masks. Lighting rigs are visible on the fringes of
the performance space, indeed you could clearly see into the wings from my
vantage point. A microphone is positioned stage right; the two musicians stage
left. All the mechanics and devices of a theatrical production are boldly laid
out in plain sight. Then something interesting happened – the normal pre-show babble
died down with no discernible signal or change in status from the actors as if
suddenly there was a shared expectation from the audience. The actors continued
to warm up vocally and physically in a hushed arena. Then we are thrust into
the tumult as the story begins...
This melange of highly distinctive styles instead of
competing with each other somehow melded into, oftentimes, quite an exhilarating
production. Set design (Richard Roberts) was simple and effective with two
arches – one a larger traditional Chinese arch; the other a smaller bamboo
construction used to signify doorways – wheeled into place by stagehands who
would occasionally stay onstage briefly as observers during a scene. There was
judicious use of a wooden revolve in the centre of the stage. Chairs were used
to represent everything from a rickety bridge over a mountain pass to the
sparse furnishings of various abodes.
To the performances and Alex Malone in her Black Swan debut
was outstanding as Grusha. There was a jauntiness in her interactions with the
soldier (James Sweeny) Grusha falls for; hesitation and uncertainty as the
Governer’s wife (Caitlin Beresford-Ord) becomes more concerned with her
wardrobe than her baby as the Ironshirts threaten; a softness with the baby
Michael; and real tenacity as the character survives relentless pursuit and
then asserts her claim to be the rightful mother. Malone also has a pleasant
singing voice that was used to good effect sporadically throughout. Most
importantly though, given the comical and over-exaggerated characters Grusha
meets, it’s a totally grounded performance undertaken with great confidence.
Others to stand out – Steve Turner in a variety of roles,
each given distinctive flourishes that made his presence memorable; Adam Booth
especially as a lascivious Ironshirt who caused the skin crawl with some wildly
inappropriate innuendo, gleefully delivered; and James Sweeny was a forthright
soldier that matched Malone in crafting a realistic portrayal that worked well
in moments of tenderness and in disappointment when his Simon discovers Grusha
is married. Beresford-Ord made for a regal and disdainful Governor’s wife while
Luke Hewitt was given characters most often flirting with caricature, deploying
almost Barry Humphries style vocal emphasis at times.
Then there’s Geoff Kelso whose Azdak takes over as the focal
point in the second half. He stumbled over his lines a few times during the
second preview which will no doubt iron itself out but his judge is an
archetypal Aussie larrikin that would be right at home in something like The
Castle.
The icing on this theatrical layer cake is the musical
accompaniment. Bracknell has an earthy voice that was a perfect fit for the
songs creating an enormous amount of atmosphere. His guitar playing was excellent
and the percussion by Arunachala was equally evocative or menacing as required.
There is a superbly crafted turning point that is enhanced by song and
performance when Grusha makes the fateful decision to take the baby. It’s a
wonderful synthesis of all the theatrical elements in this show’s formidable
arsenal.
There were a couple of things that jarred – the number of
cases Azdak hears after his appointment was perhaps one too many in
establishing his unique bona fides; and some of the more exaggerated Australian
accents were too incongruous even in the context of the artifices established.
The overall impression though is one of appreciation and
admiration for this unique staging of Brecht’s masterpiece.
