dementia – Theatre Things

Review: Jericho’s Rose at The Hope Theatre

Published on October 21, 2018July 20, 2019 by LizLeave a comment

“Where do you live?” It seems like such a simple question – but the enquiry takes on new significance with each repetition in Jericho’s Rose from Althea Theatre. Written by Lilac Yosiphon, who also directs along with Mike Cole and Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster, it’s a moving and intriguing exploration of the true meaning of “home”, seen through the eyes of two characters. Jasmine is a writer fighting for the right to stay in London, and her grandfather, back in Tel Aviv, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For each of them, and for different reasons, answering the straightforward question “Where do you live?” becomes an increasingly difficult – and sometimes impossible – task.

The structure of the show is based around repetition: the frustrations of having the same conversations over and over with someone who doesn’t remember; the endless meetings with doctors who can never say anything new; the constant disappointment of being rejected – again – for a visa. All that really changes in Jasmine’s life over the course of the 75-minute show is her location, as she moves from one city to the next in search of… something. Even then, in each city her experience is much the same – drinking too much, having disappointing romantic encounters in nightclubs, and ultimately ending up back in Tel Aviv with Grandpa.

In other hands, this cyclical structure could easily teeter on the brink of tedium, and it’s credit to Lilac Yosiphon’s engaging, almost mesmerising performance as both Jasmine and Grandpa that this doesn’t happen. Slipping seamlessly from one character to the other – at times conversing with her other persona on stage, at others with her own recorded voice – she holds our attention throughout with ease.

This is fortunate, because the fragmented narrative of the piece, which hops around in time, location and style, does demand the audience’s constant focus in order to piece it all together. We’re aided in this, to some extent, by the use of music and loop pedalled sound, composed and performed live from the corner of the stage by Sam Elwin, and by Will Monks’ projections, both of which provide us with certain audiovisual signposts as we make our way through the show’s deliberately disorienting landscape.

For those of us privileged enough to have never questioned where we belong, this unique multi-sensory production paints a powerful picture of the trauma of displacement – whether physical or emotional – through the sharing of a very personal and poignant story. The eclectic nature of the show may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but Jericho’s Rose is bold, original and invites us to consider themes we may think we understand in a whole new light.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Cockamamy at The Hope Theatre

Published on June 16, 2018July 20, 2019 by LizLeave a comment

A little over a year ago, I sat at The Hope Theatre and sobbed my way through Off The Middle’s In Other Words, a devastatingly sad story about a husband and wife coming to terms with his diagnosis of dementia. This week, I was back at The Hope to see Think and Hit’s debut production Cockamamy, another play about dementia – and surprise surprise, I ended up in floods again.

I don’t know why theatre on this topic tends to hit me so hard, but I suspect it’s because so often it’s inspired by real experiences and people, and you can tell it comes from a place of deep love and affection mingled with pain and often loss. If that’s the case then Cockamamy is a double whammy, as both writer and actor Louise Coulthard and director Rebecca Loudon know what it’s like to care for a grandparent with dementia, and have put that experience to powerful use to create a funny and deeply poignant play.

Let’s back up a bit, though, because Cockamamy isn’t just a play about dementia. It’s really the story of Alice and Rosie, who are far more than just grandmother and granddaughter; they’re best friends. Alice raised Rosie following the death of her mother when she was a little girl, and the strong bond between them is clear from the outset. But there are clouds on the horizon: Alice is getting increasingly confused and forgetful, and she’s convinced she’s being visited by her late husband Arthur. When Rosie meets a new boyfriend, both she and Alice are forced to make some tough decisions about their futures.

It was always going to be a tough story to watch, but what makes Cockamamy so heartbreaking is how instantly likeable the characters are. Alice is a particular delight: a feisty, quirky old lady with a mischievous sense of humour and a surprising habit of quoting Beyonce. We love her from the start, so it’s painful to watch her become more and more fragile and bewildered as the play goes on – particularly as there are moments when the old Alice reappears.

Mary Rutherford’s superb performance is matched by that of Louise Coulthard as Rosie, as she struggles with the conflict between wanting to protect her gran and wanting to get on with her own life. She’s just met the perfect man – Cavan, an Irish junior doctor played by Rowan Polonski – but although he’s patient and supportive of Alice’s situation, their relationship is put under ever greater strain as Rosie repeatedly finds herself forced to choose between them. Unsurprisingly, this building tension ultimately comes to a head in a final scene that’s ugly and brutal in both its honesty and its emotional impact.

If I have one quibble, it’s that the long scene changes interrupt the pace of the production and leave us looking at Alice’s empty living room for rather longer than feels necessary. But this minor irritation doesn’t detract from a play that perfectly balances entertainment with an honest, powerful portrayal of the impact dementia can have on families and relationships. Highly recommended, but prepare to be put through the emotional wringer.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: In Other Words at The Hope Theatre

Published on March 3, 2017July 22, 2018 by Liz2 Comments

Off the Middle’s Matthew Seager was inspired to write his debut play, In Other Words, by 10 weeks facilitating sensory stimulation workshops in a dementia care home during his last year of uni. A residency with the Lyric Hammersmith’s Emerging Artists Programme followed, and now In Other Words finds its way to the Hope Theatre, directed by Paul Brotherston.

The story follows Arthur and Jane throughout 50 years of their relationship, charting the devastating impact of Alzheimer’s disease on their marriage and life together. It’s an undoubtedly harrowing play to watch – don’t expect to leave without shedding a tear or several – but also contains a glimmer of hope. Because this is also a story about music and its incredible ability to anchor people in reality, even when little else remains of the person they once were.

Much of the play’s impact is felt in the performances of Matthew Seager and Celeste Dodwell, who are both devastatingly good in their roles as Arthur and Jane. In good times and bad, their relationship is 100% believable – as is Seager’s careful portrayal of dementia as Arthur gradually slips away, and Dodwell’s of Jane’s gut-wrenching grief. The whole play is unflinchingly, brutally honest about the experience of living with Alzheimer’s – not just for Arthur, but for Jane too, who stays at her husband’s side as he descends into a spiral of denial, confusion and rage, but not without privately confessing feelings of resentment, anger, and guilt at having failed to spot the signs and do something sooner.

Apart from one passing reference to middle age, it’s not totally clear how old the couple are meant to be or how quickly the disease is progressing, the only real hint of context in the Sinatra-led soundtrack. Even so, the two actors are clearly younger than their characters – a harsh reminder that dementia sufferers aren’t just “old people”, but people who were once young and full of life: dancing, falling in love, laughing, arguing, singing badly – just like the rest of us. The couple tell us their story together, looking back with tenderness on their happy times as well as the harder years, the love between them as alive as it was in the beginning. And through it all, one song – Fly Me To The Moon – has the power to reach out and heal any wounds, however deep they may be.

In a space too small for set changes (or indeed much of a set at all), lighting and sound design from Will Alder and Iida Aino combine to situate the action: in a busy pub with music playing in the background; in a living room so silent and full of pain that a ticking clock becomes the only sound; in the doctor’s office as Arthur struggles to remember three simple words… Each detail is spot on and beautifully observed, as are the scenes in which Arthur’s thoughts are drowned out by a wave of white noise and blue light that fills the space in moments when it all gets too much.

In Other Words makes no excuses and covers up none of the harsh details of living with dementia. But it also paints a picture of a love that endures – and will continue to endure – even beyond the cruellest of circumstances. Funny and heartbreaking, charming and brutal, this is a powerful debut that’s not to be missed… but remember to take tissues.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: The Nature of Forgetting at Shoreditch Town Hall

Published on January 22, 2017January 6, 2018 by LizLeave a comment

Theatre Re’s latest work, The Nature of Forgetting, premiered this week at Shoreditch Town Hall, where it was greeted by sell-out audiences and standing ovations. The three-night run was far too brief – but something tells me we haven’t seen the last of this beautiful and moving show.

Inspired by recent neurobiological research and interviews with people living with dementia, The Nature of Forgetting attempts to piece together their experience through the story of Tom, who’s 55 today. As he dresses for his birthday party, each item of clothing in his wardrobe brings back confused fragments of memory from his earlier life, and the people who played a part in it.

Photo Credit: Richard Davenport for The Other Richard

Though there’s a clear story behind the memories – school days, courtship, marriage, career – what makes this show so powerful is not the events themselves, but the emotions at the heart of them. So while the details of each memory may be a little hazy, we do get to experience the joy of a bike ride, the stress and anxiety of a wedding day, the heartbreaking sense of loss evoked by an empty chair… There’s humour too, in Tom’s overbearing mother and class clown antics – and through it all, the recurring sensation of panic that comes with trying to pin down these elusive memories as they slip away. And importantly, it’s also not just Tom’s story but also that of the people who love him, reminding us that dementia doesn’t only affect the person who suffers from it.

At just over an hour, the show is essentially one single scene, which fades and reassembles as Tom is transported into his memories. The cast (Guillaume Pigé, Louise Wilcox, Eyglo Thorgeirsdottir and Matthew Austin) are in motion almost the entire time, together forming a well-oiled machine that ensures every prop – primarily the wooden school desks that form the show’s central motif – is in position and every performer always in exactly the right place. The result is a whirl of movement that appears entirely fluid and effortless.

Just as important as the movement is the music, composed and performed by Alex Judd, accompanied by percussionist Keiran Pearson. Written in the rehearsal room as the show was taking shape, the score exquisitely mirrors the emotions on stage, and builds to a stirring climax for the final scene. There are some particularly powerful moments when Tom is struggling with his loss of memory and the soundtrack seems to bend and twist along with his ability to piece together his recollections.

It’s impossible for anyone who hasn’t been there to really experience what it must be like to lose their grip on memory, but this thoroughly researched and beautifully presented show offers us a glimpse into that world. It’s at times a scary picture – but The Nature of Forgetting reminds us that just because those events and emotions may be harder to recall, they’re not gone forever and will live on in Tom, however deeply buried they may be. It’s an uplifting note on which to end this unforgettable show.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Interview: Guillaume Pigé, The Nature of Forgetting

Published on January 11, 2017January 11, 2017 by Liz1 Comment

“The name of the company comes from the prefix ‘re’. It is the ‘re’ of re-discovering and re-imagining. For us it is not about inventing but about breathing new life into what is already there.”

Guillaume Pigé founded Theatre Re in 2009 while in training at the International School of Corporeal Mime in London. He was joined in 2011 by Katherine Graham, Malik Ibheis and Alex Judd and an international ensemble was formed, producing work that combines mime and theatre to examine fragile human conditions. Their last show, Blind Man’s Song, was a surprise (to me, anyway) entry in my top 10 of 2016, and they’re now looking ahead to the world premiere on 18th January of their latest project, The Nature of Forgetting.

Inspired by recent neurobiological research and interviews with people living with dementia, the show tells the story of Tom, as he’s re-awakened on his 55th birthday by the tangled threads of his disappearing memories.

“As a company we work very collaboratively, and for this project we started by doing things, by moving, by playing,” says Guillaume. “A few objects very rapidly became central to the piece, like the wooden school desks for instance. We also collaborated with UCL Neuroscience Professor Kate Jeffery and interviewed older people and people living with dementia. The point was not to collect their stories or what they remembered, but to explore how they remembered. This was fascinating. The main question that guided our exploration was: what is left when memory is gone? We could not put the answer into words…so we made a show about it.”

The collaboration with Professor Jeffery proved invaluable to the creation of the piece: “She not only helped us to understand memory mechanisms, but she also helped us to gain a better understanding of the information we were getting through our interviews,” explains Guillaume. “She was also in rehearsal with us to support our physical and visual dramaturgy. In fact, this collaboration went so well that we will be organising a seminar with Professor Jeffery at UCL about the science behind the making of the show ahead of our premiere, where we will discuss how the concepts of the neurobiology of memory has shaped the making of the work.”

One of the unique features of Theatre Re’s work is composer and musician Alex Judd’s live music, which has been part of the company’s previous shows Blind Man’s Song, The Little Soldiers and The Gambler. “Alex’s music for this show is absolutely gorgeous and all created live from more than ten instruments on stage! It has all been composed in the rehearsal room as the piece was being developed. The music and the sounds are totally integral to the performance. Also, for the first time, Alex is joined on stage by a percussionist, Keiran Pearson, who adds different timbres, colours, and textures to the score.”

The show was also inspired by the work of theatre director Tadeusz Kantor: “I was originally drawn to the work of Tadeusz Kantor because the world of childhood memories (long term memory) became very rapidly central to the development of The Nature of Forgetting. I was especially inspired by pieces such as The Dead Class and Wielopole.

“While watching those pieces, I was fascinated by the mysterious raw visual and physical poetry that was developed on stage. Especially the use of ‘poor objects’ and the work of the actors; stylized and yet so real.”

The show premieres next week as part of the London International Mime Festival. For those not sure if mime is for them, Guillaume shares what first attracted him to the art form: “Everything. Absolutely everything. The disciplines, the imagination, the technique, the freedom, the vocabulary, the figures, the pieces and the whole world around it…

“I would like the audience to come out of the theatre with both a smile on their face and a tear in their eye.”

Book now for Theatre Re’s The Nature of Forgetting at Shoreditch Town Hall from 18th-20th January.