Never in my life have I had the urge to watch physical theatre. The lack of intellectual dialogue and the overcompensating choreography has simply never seemed appealing to me. So, I’m ashamed to admit that I walked into the Adam Small theatre on Tuesday 22 July to watch the Première Festival’s Fluid Frames, expecting to be disappointed.
I was fundamentally wrong.
As I took my seat, the stage stretched out in front of me, lit to reveal a bent-over man (Lutho Ndyalvane) with shackles round his neck, and a splayed, veiled figure (Abusisiwe Mcoyana) – who somehow managed to remain perfectly still on the cold auditorium floor. As the play began, the man tried desperately to escape – held back by his chains, which dragged him down in a furiously demeaning cycle. As the figure, who represented light, emerged with her veil to free him from imprisonment, the dynamic between the two characters was the clear crux of the production.
And when they grew toward and away from each other, I was struck by the skill of the actors. With simple body language they managed to convey complex emotions, establishing clear characters and relationships, the struggle of light and dark and ultimate reversal of roles clear and well done. Simultaneously, they ran through complex choreography that twisted them toward and away from each other, both physically and emotionally.
And while I enjoyed this staging, I did find myself with a few criticisms – minor splinters in an otherwise lovely production. The length of the play felt ambitious, with repeating and unnecessary interactions that detracted from the striking simplicity of the performance. The few apparent slips in the actor’s routine were noticeable but could be attributed to cold or nerves and were not major enough to ruin the fluidity of the act. I walked away from Fluid Frames happy and slightly chilly. A big round of applause to the cast Abusisiwe Mcoyana and Lutho Ndyalvane, and the creator and director Malebogo Taunyane.
By Sophia Leher
