Written for Time Out
David Harrower’s ‘A Slow Air’ takes its time but stick with it and this potent two-hander will reward your patience. 80 minutes of alternating monologues, Harrower’s newest play is a departure from the ‘less is more’ approach of previous work such as the Olivier-winning ‘Blackbird’. But his newly talkative style does nothing to dilute the power of a piece which is as strangely affecting as its title – and was critically acclaimed this year in New York and last summer at the Edinburgh Festival.
Athol lives in a bungalow in Glasgow while his estranged sister Morna is in Edinburgh, shagging a man she sardonically calls ‘Sir Galahad’ and acting like a wounded animal with everyone else. Their 14-year silence is about to be broken by Morna’s troubled teenage son, Joshua.
In the litany of betrayals that ensues, the poetry of Athol and Morna’s storytelling is so deceptively domestic that one moment you’re smiling about cleaning or golf and the next you’re swallowing back tears. I haven’t felt this moved by the complexity of normal people or their failure to connect since I read Jonathan Franzen’s ‘The Corrections’.
As director, Harrower tackles his play with quiet confidence, letting the words do most of the talking. In a compelling production, he leaves the emotional explosions that threaten to engulf each utterance bubbling beneath the words. Susan Vidler takes time to settle into Morna’s swagger but finds her stride magnificently by the end. And Lewis Howden breathes rich texture into Athol, a gentle man emotionally brought low by his own ordinariness.
Running until 2 June 2012. For more information go here.
Written for What’s On Stage
The title of David Harrower’s 1995 debut Knives in Hens is an acutely powerful one prompting a reaction in people that cuts through understanding to a basic human shudder. It is a response that is in keeping with this play, where the written word is made sacred and the divine in nature is poetically evoked through the seemingly pedestrian act of naming.
Language is under the microscope here as sentences that have no space for florid ‘artistic’ themes transcend their mundane purpose to become detailed descriptions of greatness. A ploughman’s wife talks us through God’s omnipotent signature on nature with glistening eyes as she is tempted away from her husband ‘Pony’ William, his nickname darkly hinting at a stranger more primal connection than just owner and animal. Her temptation comes in the form of the local Miller, hated by the village for his lazy appropriation of their hard earned corn.
Darkly hinting could be Harrower’s tag line. As with Blackbird, his massive Edinburgh hit, Knives in Hens defies a standard explanation. He is bold enough to leave massive spaces around his lines, so that what hits one most tangibly, especially within this piece, is an incoherent and ephemeral feeling of the unknowable, of the omniscient presence of the ‘other’ that surrounds our seemingly normal characters. Maria Rijo’s warm cello playing and vocal work hauntingly underlines this presence throughout the piece.
Serdar Bilis’ shadowy but dynamic production lives up to its forceful, enigmatic title; the impressive creative team and cast once again proving that Studio 2 at The Arcola is surpassing its black box restrictions to become a 50 seat powerhouse.
Hannah Clark’s design crunches under foot with a thin green line representing a bare horizon that could mean either freedom or the wall of a cage. It is a blisteringly potent cast that is trapped within it. As ‘Pony’ William Nathaniel Martello-White’s every amorous word is dripped in contempt and Phil Cheadle Gilbert brings a bewildered softness to the tempting devil of a Miller who sets the young woman free. In this role Jodie McNee is enthralling, being at once earthy mother and impish fawn and each twitchy nerve ending in our own bodies tingles with her experience.
By marrying poetic abstraction with a visceral tale of betrayal and awakening, Harrower has created a compelling and driven piece of psychological study made of sturdy stuff. In this production at The Arcola, it has been given a rendition well worth its mettle by an outstanding creative team.
Running until the 27th February 2010. For tickets click here