A Review of Beckett’s Shorts – Theatre for Theatre People

In a conversation with her lighting-designer partner, our resident theatre buff Goldele Rayment looks at the complexity of performing, directing and understanding Samuel Beckett’s work. It’s okay if you’ve never had your A-ha moment with Beckett, that’s the whole point …

Goldele: I was very excited to see Beckett’s short works performed live. As a theatre student for most of my life I have read Beckett, viewed films of the works, watched interviews and discussed his work at length. As a theatre director he fascinates me, challenges me and scares me all at the same time. Having seen Andre Bastien’s wonderfully realised direction of “The Work of Wonder” at Red Stitch late last year I was confident I was going to see at least a competent presentation of Beckett. I was interested to see what my partner, Natalie, would make of his work, not having an extensive theatre theory education.

Natalie: This was the first time I have seen a Beckett piece, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had heard from experienced theatre goers that Beckett was hard to understand and hard to get into. I had seen “The Work of Wonder” with Goldele, and I had met Andre and his partner a couple of weeks before. I was both looking forward to a piece of wonderfully directed theatre and expecting the hard slog of trying to understand theatre for theatre people.
G: The theatre was set up simply with four pieces of scrim hanging from ceiling to floor. Down stage right, behind one cloth was a large black box and behind another, down stage left, was a semi-circle of what appeared to be part of a white chair and a tall lamp with a naked globe. Projected on the scrim in white text was what I recognised as the conditions of performance of a Beckett script. It gave me a perverse pleasure to see this “outed”. I am not sure how often the public is aware of the prescriptive conditions that come with a Beckett script and are still enforced by his estate. I was even more titillated when the actors started reading the scripted stage directions before each performance. Beckett’s work is so deconstructed and at the same time limiting, that it was theatrical poetry and very cheeky to side step the tight restrictions and make fun of them by presenting them in this way.

N: As I walked in to the theatre I enjoyed the simple staging and lighting design. I have been a fan of Stelios’ lighting designs for a while, and was looking forward to what he would do with such a simple set. I didn’t quite understand that the performers were reading the stage directions until a couple of minutes in.
G: Becket is best presented, in my humble opinion, simply. The Director, over drinks afterwards, expressed to me “one does not need dramatic actors creating emotionally fraught “deep” connections”. Andre had taken a light hand, having worked with his actors, Uschi Felix and Dion Mills, to clearly present the work and allow the words and poetry of the writing to breathe and live on stage. Like baking bread, it must be kneaded thoroughly and then left to rise and then you need to pound it down again and let it rise to be light and full (sorry it is Passover, I have yeast or lack thereof on the brain). Andre and his two skilled actors allowed for this space, having paired back all unnecessary emotions. Despite this I glimpsed edges of nerves and strain from the actors, as at times the overwhelming challenge of the text surmounted them, but only briefly, as they circled around lines momentarily or wavered physically on stage. This I’m sure was just opening night jitters

N: The words started to get repetitive. I was starting to lose the thread of what was being said. My bum was falling asleep on the hard chair and I had an itchy ear. I found myself looking at the lights most of the time, since nothing was changing on stage and I was wondering just how they had lit the woman’s face so as to just pick up her mouth without any spill being evident behind or around her. Then I noticed that the text had moved on. I felt guilty that I hadn’t been following. I had fallen into a trance, with the words and the sounds they made being similar, and yet they were slowly moving along with a kind of narrative.
G: I struggle to focus on Beckett, the words go round in circles and become hypnotic, but I always leave feeling more alive, images swim around me and live with me for hours and days after. That is why his works are masterpieces.

N: The lighting was great, although it is hard getting everything in exactly the right place with such tightly focused spots. I loved the part of the chair, perfectly lit as though it was the only part in the light in an otherwise dark room. As we got up to leave the theatre at the end though, I said to Goldele “Please don’t bring me to any more Beckett!” Then she explained it to me.
G: I told Natalie “You aren’t supposed to follow it all; it isn’t possible; it presents you with impressions and visual moments and ideas. The repetitive sounds and words are there to reiterate the overall concepts; you don’t need to understand every word or moment.”

N: So, I got it, or some of it. You know, that classic “Ah ha!” moment. The last two parts were about death, the woman and the man slowly sliding into decay. The monologue by the old guy with the white hair showed me that life is so short, but it takes a long time to die. You may feel like you are doing the same things day after day (night after night) and yet you are not, but you can’t remember that. I think we’ll go and see it again next week, so I can try to understand it a little more, with a pillow for my sore bottom.
G: Watching Natalie have moments of revelation is exactly why I make and see theatre. Go and wrestle with the gods of theatre, and your own humanity, you can trust that you will be in strong and capable hands with this production.

Beckett’s Shorts

Breath, Not I, That Time, Rockaby, A Piece of Monologue

Performed by Uschi Felix and Dion Mills

Directed by André Bastian

La Mama, Carlton Courthouse, April 14th- 25th 

Bookings: 9347 6142