State Theatre Company. Space Theatre and Scenic Workshop and Rehearsal Room. 26 Feb 2015
Irishman Samuel Beckett is said to be one of the last modernists, and because he is widely regarded as one of the most influential writers of last century, he also is considered one of the first post-modernists. Isn't that absurd? Not really - he picked up the 1969 Nobel Prize for literature. He is thus famous for redefining the theatrical event.
On offer by the State Theatre Company are three short plays. 'Krapp's Last Tape' was written in 1958 - five years after his most famous play, 'Waiting For Godot,' established his reputation. 'Eh, Joe' comes ten years later, and 'Footfalls' fourteen years before his death in 1989. The Beckett machine prescribes strict adherence to the stage notes and consequently one may think of these plays as museum pieces. So this becomes your opportunity to see for yourself authentic productions perhaps similar to those that caused all the fuss almost 50 years ago.
What Beckett is famous for is stripping away the noisy trappings of theatre and exploring the essence of our consciousness, or what it is to be human. In each play is a single character on stage, who, I would say, is interacting or reacting with their inner voice. Eckhart Tolle calls it the voice in your head. Landmark Education calls it the all-ready always listening. Imagine, if while you were talking to someone, your arm at your elbow started to swing wildly. You're quite used to this and explain, "Oh, just ignore that. I can't control it. It just happens." Your companion would rightly think you have a serious affliction. Yet nearly everybody has an inner voice that seems to happen all by itself and sometimes won't stop. We have conversations with it - it's so common, we think it's normal. But it frequently dwells on the past - some lost relationship, or old grief or missed opportunity. While no-one sees your inner voice, unlike your out-of-control arm, if you act on figments of your inner voice in dangerous ways, you would be diagnosed with a psychosis.
It's very easy to see ourselves in these plays. Pamela Rabe plays with world weariness a haggard woman in conversation with the disambiguated voice of her mother, who recognises the problem when she says, "..will you never have done revolving it all [in your mind]?" And like a lot of us today, the woman is dealing with the issues of old aged care and wondering when enough is enough. She walks a line, back and forth, afflicted, with heavy footfalls.
'Eh, Joe' was actually a play written for television, the new medium of the time. Poor Joe locks himself up in a bedroom which is physically further confined by the utilisation of a false perspective (this is a perspective where size actually recedes in the distance). He simply sits on the bed. The room is behind a screen and we see increasing close-ups of Joe's face projected on the screen - each element of the projection specified in the script. Joe is moved to tears listening to what seems like an ex-wife's voice tormenting him about his past relational tragedies with women. Paul Blackwell's slow disintegration was extremely moving and this was my favourite play for its technical virtuosity and Pamela Rabe's sophisticated voice work.
Some humour creeps into ‘Krapp's Last Tape’. Krapp, played with similarity to a grumpy old engineer by Peter Carroll, is surrounded by mountains of his life's debris as he sits at a tightly lit desk. After some funny business with bananas, Krapp will torment his mind with Spool 5 from Box 3 - an audio tape he made some thirty years ago, when he recorded himself as saying he was at the height of his powers but also we learn he is in the last throws of a dying relationship. It didn't look like anything good happened since. Regrets, I had a few.
Geordie Brookman (Footfalls), Corey McMahon (Eh, Joe) and Nescha Jelk (Krapp's Last Tape) direct and co-design (with Alisa Paterson) their plays with clarity and simplicity, as they were told to do by Beckett and his estate. They give terrific explanations of their aims in their director's notes so don't even enter the theatre without a program. Chris Petridis and Jason Sweeney heighten the mood with their light and sound contributions using modern technology in a way I'm sure Beckett would be pleased.
In the plays, a single character struggles with only their anguishing voice, which can make for soporific theatre if you don't know what you are looking for, so it would be best to bone up. But this is likely a once in a lifetime opportunity to see these three plays, together, and observe a genius's work just as he intended, by a loving and thoughtful creative team. Bravo!
P.S. By the way, who's that listening to the voice? It's you. The voice is just some rubbish your mind makes up and you can stop it.
David Grybowski
When: 20 Feb to 15 Mar
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
