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BREATH[e] Designed and Directed by Steve Lucas The Theatre Centre, 1087 Queen Street West Thursday, April 25 - Saturday, May 18, 2002 ONLY! Review by Gord McLaughlin, Eye Magazine - May 2, 2002 Have you ever dropped acid and then stared into a lava lamp, aurally re-experiencing your life in the womb as people smoke heavily nearby? Well, now you don't have to, because light and set designer Steve Lucas has made his directorial debut with a wordless, actorless play. It is very -- as we briefly said in the '80s -- tripular. The audience (capacity is 27 people) sits in a black box facing a black wall, but don't get the idea that this is about sensory deprivation. As the lights dim, the sound of breathing rises, tendrils of fog snake out and panels in the black wall lift to reveal images, light and colour that take you... inward? I don't know. Reviewing this show is like reviewing a Rorschach ink blot, where I'm transported by cosmic insights but all you see is your parents having sex. During what you might call the rising action, as the unfolding panels add dimension and a sensation of movement, accompanied by the ever-present breathing and a sort of new-age-played-backwards soundtrack, I felt fearful, as if I were being consumed. But once we'd reached what you might call the climax, a sort of landscape tableau -- I pray this isn't like telling whodunit -- I felt at peace, only to find we weren't allowed to tarry long. The trip back was like losing hope. The whole thing is inspired by a 30-second Samuel Beckett play, and if you like the sound of that, you might very well like BREATH[e]. But even if the word experimental makes you run the other way, it must be said that Lucas' creation has the shape of a story, is artful and affecting, and never resorts to pyrotechnics. The most jarring aspect is the utter lack of applause at the end, because in this automated show, no one is there to hear. |