I took in Icarus Theatre Company’s Spring Awakening purely in the interest of theatrical blogging.
That’s my excuse anyway. Teenage sex and nudity lost its appeal years ago. But
you don’t often get a major nineteenth century play famed for its controversial
themes dropping in on Harpenden. We are more your Rattigan and Coward types,
sex wrapped up in polite conversation and nice dresses. Frank Wedekind, in a
translation by bad boy Edward Bond, gives you teenage sexual repression full
face.
Nothing wrong with that providing you do it well. And this
young company, on a stark but imaginative set, can act their German rustic
socks off. Pastoral youthful passions writ large. David McLaughlin was an
excellent and assured Melchior, the boy who knows and writes about sex, and
Christopher Smart a compelling Moritz riddled with guilt and repression. Both
boys, at fourteen or fifteen, have discovered puberty and it is their reactions
to it that is the heart of this demanding, but absorbing, piece. The one
impregnates a girl, the other kills himself. Still happens all over the world
but rarely depicted on stage as raw and disturbing as this one. Gabrielle
Dempsey was a beautifully fragile and confused Wendla, Nicole Anderson a
sensuously provocative Ilse and, in outstanding virtuosity, Gemma Barrett a
feisty schoolgirl Martha and an unflinching buttoned up mother. In the best
scene of the evening Miss Barrett’s Frau Bergman failed beautifully and
miserably to spell out the facts of life to her daughter. When fourteen year
old Wendla fell pregnant she poignantly tells her ma that she couldn’t be. She
wasn’t married. She was that sort of girl; it was that sort of play.
Max Lewendel and Adam Purnell, director and set designer,
combined to produce a compelling piece superbly lit and costumed. It was also episodic
and wordy and you needed all your concentration powers to relate action to
characters. Mine wandered a bit at the two gays in the wood, where did that
come from I says, and at the teacher’s meeting to expel the sexually rebellious
Melchior. Absurdist theatre beautifully conducted by Zachary Holton as a weird
Chairman but, almost, completely mystifying. I blame my age, Elvis and Cliff
obsessed my distant teenage years. But the heart of this Spring Awakening shone like a beacon. Mainly because this group,
collectively, gave us an abundance of powerful and sincere acting of the
highest class. Sex reared its complex head and young and old floundered in its
confusions. Just like here in Harpenden. So I am told. Roy Hall
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