IMMERSION

This week I have seen three productions in a row of outstanding immersive theatre.

What I loved about all three was not necessarily a reinvention of wheels, but the simple and clever distillation of theatrical language and human connections.

Kicking off the weekend was Punchdrunk’s The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable, taking place in a 5 story warehouse in Paddington where you are invited to don a mask and wander through at your own pleasure, simultaneous scene-scapes.  It is loosely based on Woyzeck.. but perhaps is more articulately an exploration of deceit and fidelity, appropriated into the double-edged world of hollywood show business and it’s seedy underworld.

I loved it, especially as I have never seen a Punchdrunk show before and have nothing to compare it to.  Punchdrunk are well known for similar kinds of work and I think with good reason; if you’ve found a brilliant convention that works, why not continue to develop and realise it in multiple incarnations.

I felt incredibly liberated in my active role as an audience member, and if i think back through my journey it’s amazing how much it reveals about my personality too- the choices I made as I went through.  At first I was sensorily overwhelmed and easily drawn to the large scenes, then as they splintered I grew frustrated that I was missing a narrative, and couldn’t quite hold onto one story.  I soon realised it was easier let go of the story and let the experience wash over me. (A bit like life).  I also grew frustrated in large group scenes and wanted to wander along paths less traveled…

It was when I was walking through a trailer park on my own that an actor whisked me into a caravan and took my mask off, then through a secret trap door I was blindfolded and walked through a sensory monologue.  This was an incredible thrill, particularly because I felt I was given a unique gift, only mine in that moment.

I also realised that I am and have always been rather obedient.  Of course I have my own character contradictions, but if there is a door with a sign that says backstage no entry… I probably won’t go through it.  And it took me following a actress sweet talking a barman to win a pass to then launch herself through the backstage doors for me to then enter with her.

Incredibly, when I spoke to friends about their experiences afterwards, it might have appeared as if we had seen two completely different shows.  Even in the finale scene I realised I had not yet seen one of the main characters yet! But I wouldn’t have changed my experience for the world as each moment had felt like my own personal discovery.

One of my biggest marvels was the beautifully conceived lighting and sound, designed for so many individual sweet spots and stand points.  There were also just as many moments of simple theatrical and illusionary techniques; smoke and mirrors style, the kind of theatre magic that still makes us gasp with awe.

Punchdrunk was highly physical, and although ultimately working towards a complex form of storytelling, it very much straddled both the dance and theatre worlds. And I find it curious that when something is framed as dance theatre it can get away with being more subjective, perhaps because as an audience our expectations are more open.

The second production I saw was called The Nest by New Movement Collective, again a disused building and new arts venue Stone Nest in Soho being reinvented and explored for creative potential.

Though based on Homer’s The Odyssey, this was essentially dance taking a step down the immersive route.  Dance executed in a site specific awareness; playing with performance space boundaries and where this space bleeds with the audiences. Especially when even contemporary dance is mostly presented on proscenium arch style stages, how special it was to feel the breeze from a dancer rushing past your body and the awe that is in turn ignited for the sheer simplicity of this art form, that is moving bodies in space.

There were also moments of exploration into different rooms with instalation elements too.  I was thrilled when I found a spidering woman hooked up to what felt like hundreds of elastic threads from the ceiling corner, we shared a moment that I felt was just hers and mine as I entered the room.

And these are the moments I will walk away with and keep with me in my longer term memory amid the fleeting ephemerality of a theatrical experience.

Finally I also saw the National Theatre of Scotland‘s production of The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart, presented in London with The Royal Court.

This show has stolen my heart!!!

Where to begin.  It is such a celebration, taking absolute delight in storytelling culture.  Borrowing from Celtic Scottish tradition and exploring where that culture sits now and is alive still in us today.  And so much of this is contributed to by the space itself.  I saw this production in the Welsh Centre London, a unique venue as it’s quaint village-y pub-like interior does not match it’s harsh outside location in Kings Cross.  It was the perfect harmony for this show, specifically designed for pub/ hall venues and fully embraces the surrounds both practically and dramaturgically.  It is as if the space is also a living breathing character- and the level of transformation within it- magical.

To dance with the devil, to feel an eternity and to learn how to love; we are taken on a journey of epic proportions and it is the language of the Scottish ballad that carries us along with ease and pleasure.  Together with the music, that can swell to suspend the simplest image or gesture, it feels like all the elements are perfectly in sync.

Pruencia Hart distills the powerful magic of what a good performance can be, making human connections and the art of storytelling.  With several goosebump inducing moments, and in a space so immediate and intimate, it is impossible not to be taken on this ride.

One of the best pieces of theatre I have seen in long time.