5/12/2017 DAVID COLLINS
Memory can be hazardous territory in the best of circumstances. At the end of a relationship, however, that ground can become even more treacherous. A good day can be ruined by the sudden memory of a lover’s face, something they said, or just from the mere fact that they are no longer there.
We often stumble through those raw lonely days, with nothing but fragments of recollections where there used to be something you were so certain would stand immutable. Devised and performed by the group, Rawcus, whose ensemble are with and without disability, Song for a Weary Throat is an exploration of that grief, the loss of a relationship, and the myriad of ways we deal with these sort of endings.
It’s a remarkable piece in many respects. There’s an intriguing tension constantly between the audience and the piece itself, where your brain, as spectator, is anxiously trying to build a narrative out of everything on stage – whether it’s the gloomy, dusty space looking like no humans have been there for a long time, or other big scenes, down to the smallest moments of brief connection.
And some of those moments were, indeed, small, but every one of them was beautiful. Even the repetitive abrasive boom of too-loud sound and a purposefully blinding light could be appreciated for the early shape it gave things, letting the cast set and re-set themselves in compelling tableaux.
Sound was woven throughout the show, both from the cast in the percussion of their footsteps, other times of crying and speaking out, to the exquisite work of the Invenio Singers, whose trio provided an acapella score that accompanied the show to perfection.