Mary judges herself ruthlessly (she did not stay at the foot of the Cross until her son died - she fled, to save herself), and her judgment of others is equally harsh. She does not agree that her son is the Son of God nor that his death was "worth it" nor that the "group of misfits he gathered around him, men who could not look a woman in the eye," were holy disciples. They are her keepers, providing her with food and shelter and visiting her regularly. She has no interest in collaborating with the authors of the Gospel. In the ancient town of Ephesus, Mary lives alone, years after her son's crucifixion. There are perhaps no more absorbing ways to enter into a discussion that to talk about religion, so we expect a play of this nature to be controversial, scandalous, even explosive, but when it falls short, the disappointment is hard to mask.Provocative, haunting and indelible, Colm Tóibín's portrait of Mary presents her as a solitary older woman still seeking to understand the events that become the narrative of the New Testament and the foundation of Christianity. Questioning the veracity of our religious convictions can seem dangerous, but is ultimately the only way to affirm truths that we hold dear. Theatricality comes courtesy of lighting designer Emma Valentine’s knack for precise punctuation and accentuation, but the show feels overly polite, emotionally curtailed, and subsequently evasive, as we attempt to find connection with its intentions and meanings.įaith only exists where there is doubt. Opportunities for a more baroque style of performance are eschewed to portray something simpler and altogether more realistic. It is a subdued production, with actor Alison Whyte demonstrating consummate professionalism in her approach honest, reflective and present. Individuals with greater personal investment into this theology would, without question, benefit more from its alternate interpretation of events, and there certainly are many whose fundamental beliefs will be challenged here. Australians are 61% Christian, so the relevance of Tóibín’s piece, which comes with little exposition of background, is not necessarily a definitive one. The play’s most satisfying moments involve hints of sacrilege, but it holds few surprises for those who have only a cursory knowledge of, or interest in, the story of Christ. A woman’s perspective is often slighted, even if it belongs to the one who had given Him life. The agony of a mother having lost her son is palpable in the theatre, but it is Mary’s vehemence to talk that captures our attention. Mary emerges a real woman, speaking to us directly of her memories of Jesus’ last days on earth. Porcelain dissolves into flesh, opulence into earthiness. Elizabeth Gadsby’s design establishes a vision familiar to many the flawless icon, silent with endless depths of compassion and love.Ĭolm Tóibín’s The Testament Of Mary begins with the effigy disintegrating. Exquisite marble tiles form the floor and walls of an exhibition space, or perhaps a place of worship, and an awe-inspiring statue of the Virgin Mary is positioned atop a small flight of steps. The stage is cordoned off by red velvet rope. Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Jan 13 – Feb 25, 2017
0 kommentar(er)
