Photo credit: Foteini Christofilopoulou

(4 / 5)

The unassuming Ustinov Studio in Bath sees a season with acclaimed director Deborah Warner for what should prove to be a highlight of the theatre calendar. Tackling Sophie Treadwell’s blazing play, a guest appearance from another titan Richard Jones directs in his fashionable and sharp way.

Jones’ work I know best through his time with Welsh National Opera and English National Opera, the former’s Olivier winning take on Alban Berg’s Wozzeck fittingly mirrors Machinal. The Yellow Wallpaper of Charlotte Perkins Gilman permeates the space in Hyemi Shin’s angular and claustrophobic set. The hectic ensemble of actors plays multiple roles as commuters, workers, medical staff, drinkers in a bar and more. The energy here is affirming, Treadwell’s musical and punchy lines are tight and in moments are profoundly abstract and true.

Jones knows what he’s doing. Sat in the front row makes for an incredibly heightend encounter. The patter of conversations, arguments, clatter of dishes, screaming and a pounding bulldozer never quite leave your ears, sound design by Benjamin Grant wonderfully also adds to the absolute din of the whole thing. The futility of the whole thing, the sadness seen with this Young Woman who is bludgeoned by all, forced into a marrige she doesnt want, a child she can’t look after and a tragic decision leads to her execution. Loosley based on the real life story of Ruth Brown Snyder, who murdered her husband, begin was the first woman in the US to get the electric chair. One wonders just how many people now and in the past find solace in story, in the play the leading lady stutters, has panic attacks and other anxious bouts.

Rosie Sheehy has given an unforgettable performance in what is not an easy character in anyones eyes. Her spasms, tics, pounding, flinching all add to a well crafted offering. I found it hard not to hear Lois Griffin in her accent, the play capturing the spirt of New York frenzies. Tim Frances as Husband feels compasionate, if complicit in his misogyny, in well acted form. Buffy Davis is the despondent, Irish Mother, some great humour and maternal blathering. The Young Man, whom our lady has a passionate affiar with, is a lovely Pierro Niel-Mee. The character has some flippently racist remarks of the era (1920s), though this one night stand proves a toxic trait, if it saved our lady even just for a few hours. Pierro works as this sort of sexy saviour, chemistry between both actors faired well. Though his betrayal is all to much.

The troupe of actors mesh around the tight stage, accents strong and a well placed aura is in the air. I spoke of energy and their passion, this must be a cracking play to be part of. The framing of each part, sees an actor place a wooden relief of each scenes name to be hung above all, the shadow of which almost mimicking the wings of freedom our lady yearns for.

Machinal runs at the Ustinov Studio till 18th November 2023

Credit Drew Buckley

Not many plays start with the actor already onstage, but this production of Carwyn makes you feel immersed from the very start as the audience is taken on a journey of a man that is sadly often forgotten, but he’s one worthy of being celebrated and remembered in Welsh culture.

The play begins and ends with the passing of Carwyn James but throughout the piece, the audience is hooked by the outstanding performance of Simon Nehan . Nehan tells a story of Carwyn reflecting on the good and bad of his life that is well worth knowing. We see two sides of Carwyn, one in which the whole world got to see, the way he felt how he had to be perceived on the outside, and the raw and real side of Carwyn, who spent his life hiding his true self from a brutal society as he was a man, simply living ahead of his time.

Showing both sides of Carwyn through the talented writing of Owen Thomas and the brilliant directing from Gareth John Bale, was something so impactful to watch as his eye-opening story is a story that is heartbreaking, relevant and necessary. I can say without hesitation that Carwyn the play is a production deserving of a standing ovation and if I was to watch it again, I know I would be moved and feel a little more impacted each time.

The Night Woman is directed and unapologetically performed by Julene Robinson. Embodying an electrifying, eloquent vibrancy expressed through dance, singing, live music and themes revolving around self-love, as well as the true essence of blackness navigating through life’s metaphysical journey, essentially as a black phenotype, inevitably encountering difficultly, challenging and disempowering experiences due to nuances, biases, prejudices, discrimination, lack of sovereignty and an identity crises due to a lack representation of dark pigmentation, coarse hair and society’s sensitive triggers to discomfort and negative conscious biases from foreign lands, within your own family and inner community.

Julene’s poetical and metaphorical expression of her exploration of darkness to discover inner beauty, magic, Godliness and purity, is mystical and impactful. Leaving you exploring the depths of the starry, moonlit sky using dazzling twinkling fairy lights and robes to represent tree branches, glowing in the low dim illuminance. This play speaks loud volumes of spirituality, trance and ancestral reconnection to reach places of true acceptance, embrace darkness no matter your linage or background, and to do so both internally and externally in every capacity, to avoid escapism of the fear of the unknown, due to colonial biases around darkness, distributing worldwide ignorances.

Watching Julene Robinson performing without an interval was a phenomenal experience, she’s not only an enchantingly performer who effortlessly takes audiences on a complex phenomena, but her use of characterisation in humorous and unapologetic ways to highlight the day in the life of Caribbean girls, born of a darker hue, living in the West Indies, and the general inadequacies faced by woman within the diaspora is magnifying.

The Night Woman, is an eye-opening fusion of loss, grief, femininity, unlearning to learn sequel; reflective stories told in an educative and playful way; with non-stop metaphors, depth and Jamaican humour all in one to re-live, restore, re-imagine and re-ignite all to come alive in the darkness by closing their eyes, whilst simultaneously appreciating dark skinned beauty by remembering darkness birthed light, and the gentle reminders of how life, including human life grows in the darkness where a God dwelled comfortably and humbly before colonial negative connotations of the word black and society’s conflicting interpretation, hatred and detest for darkness, dark matter and the night woman that birthed light lovingly.

Carwyn the play grants the audience an intimate view into Carwyn James’ private life, revealing a side of himself that he spent his life hiding from a judgmental and unaccepting society. This is a story, often heartbreakingly forgotten, but one that deserves to be celebrated in Welsh culture.

“People shouldn’t fear death, they should fear they didn’t live their best life”- Carwyn.

As he passes, Carwyn’s life flashes before the eyes of the audience. From his triumphs to tragedies, Carwyn’s story is one that must be told. We see Carwyn as who he was to the outside world; who he felt he had to present himself as, because he felt that the time he lived in was not a place for his true self. This play shows us this version of Carwyn, but also, who he was in his solitude. As a result of this, there is something so heart-rending, poetic, and beautiful about this piece. The skillful writing of Owen Thomas, powerful performance from Simon Nehan and the impactful directing from Gareth John Bale put together capture Carwyn’s story in a poignant and moving way; that was undoubtedly deserving of a standing ovation. This is one of the few pieces I have ever seen that I can confidently say that if I watched it many more times, I would be in tears at the end of each and every one.

Credit Drew Buckley