By Jennifer Beasley.
Sacred Harp singers face each other in a ‘hollow square’ formation, immersing the audience in the musical bliss of unaccompanied harmonies, which draws deep connections for a three-generational family battling together against an insidious disease.
The terms, Sacred Harp singers, and ‘hollow square,’ are new to me. Sacred Harp singing originated in New England before finding a home in the deep south of America. Unaccompanied by instruments, the choir is made up of four parts – tenor, bass, soprano and alto (I believe each ‘part’ sits, one to each side of the space), as they stand or sit around a central square, which they call a ‘hollow square’ where the leader stands, beating out the tempo with one hand, whilst the other holds the oblong hymn book.
Now that you have this understanding, image sitting around a square (stage) with the choir also seated around the ‘hollow square’ (and note the symbolism).
The ‘leader,’ Tup, wearing a striking yellow fitted short-sleeved 50’s style jacket slashed with black, which compliments a black pencil skirt (Originally from Alabama, USA, Tup makes her own clothes and runs a vintage clothing store- this is important to the story), takes the stage. Very few actors have the commanding presence and ability that Natasha Herbert has as she steps effortlessly into such a demanding role. Tup opens her hymn book, speaks, then the stage goes dark.
The audience, now pulled into the mind of Tup, witness her freewheeling against the stress and uncertainly of diminishing mental abilities. Panic grips her, and the tension is unbearable.
Until the melodious harmonies of the choir embrace and caress the viewers. We are transported to a different time and place by the music as the lights slowly come back on, and we are introduced to Tup’s daughter and grandchild.
A marvellous opening.
Presented by The Bullet Heart Club, and running at a crackling 75-minutes, the formation members director Kitan Petkovski and writer Ro Bright, unpack The Hall on a thematic journey on lost; losing identity, what we give up for family, altered sexuality, missing/absent parents and secret love, forever mourning what could have been.
Tight writing by playwright Ro Bright and Pat Irwin (who also wrote the music-such a talent!) ensure that this emotional piece stays true to its intent.
The direction is seamless, as the actors flow into, out and around the stage at 45 Downstairs, mimicking the fracturing mind of Tup.
Brooke Lee as Alison, Tup’s daughter, holds her own against powerhouse Herbert, demonstrating that not for nothing has she been cast in this production (and was simply amazing in Wolf Play last year.) The exhaustion, frustration, and anger that Alison experiences as a carer for her mother, offsets her fear and the knowledge that very soon, the mother that she knew and loved will soon be as unrecognisable to her as Tup is to herself.
Cue the music. Allison believes that Tup, as previous choir member, might be reached one last time, before the illness wipes her identity out forever. The stakes are high, and Allison is running out of time, patience and money, as she convinces Billie (grandchild) to take Tup to Ireland to experience a 400 strong Sacred Choir concert, and hope that not only will she reawaken the old Tup, but find out the name of her father. Or would it be the secret lover of Tup?
The presence of Billie is played with youthful gusto by Emmanuelle Mattana (Clickbait). I won’t go too much into their role, but they act as a counterpoint to the emotional rollercoaster of Alison and the changing power dynamics with Tup. A solid and strong performance, Mattana brings humour and space for the audience to breath in this demanding play. Billie is also going through their own issues with loss and identity. They yearn for their own space yet still want the love of a distancing mother who becomes increasingly frazzled by the responsibilities of a parent whose worsening behaviour becomes reckless and violent.
Ro Bright has captured the stress and anxiety that caring for a parent with dementia brings. Yes, there are a couple of elements that didn’t quite work- the acting of Dr Phillips was weak (but forgivable as he is also a choir member) and the scene with the Pastor and Doris not quite believable, however, I was invested in all the main characters, and having a parent myself with dementia, the story is relatable, and the emotional impact left many audience members moved at the end. In fact, no one left their seats for quite a while, something that I only see rarely in theatre, such was the impact of the marvellous choir and production.
As a final thought, the lighting was sublime. Amelia Lever-Davidson is award winning, and yet another graduate, along with the actors, from VCA (as I am as well). Set and costumes done by Bethany J Fellows – and kudos to you as this must have been a challenging role to design a set viewed from all sides. Sound by Daniel Gigliotti, a fabulous technician who has worked on various big productions and of course, Rachel Lewindon, music director and Choir leader. I was watching you keeping the choir on track and you made it look easy. Great composure.
Lastly, the choir whose harmonies uplifted this production to an ethereal experience: Mei Wah Chan, Willow Sizer, Rachel Lewindon, Michelle McCowage, Alexandra Amerides, Kikki Temple, Marty Alix & Ben Grant. Simply amazing and I thank you all for the experience.
I encourage everyone to see this incredible play. Allow yourself to become immersed in the music, and revel in brilliant writing and outstanding acting.
