The Political Hearts of Children was one of my favourite productions from big or little theatre in 2013. As High Windows, Low Doorways used the same immensely successful collaborative approach, and the chosen theme, spirituality, was particularly challenging, I was eager to see this first subtlenuance production of the season. I was not disappointed: as an exploration and evocation of intense and life-changing experiences it was brilliant.
Several stories emphasise rejection of the life-denying aspects of religion, tradition and authority. A schoolgirl (actor, Kit Bennett, writer, Alison Rooke) questions the narrow exclusivity of the faith espoused by her Anglican school principal (Helen Tonkin) and the straitjacket of a traditional faith is questioned by a young Lao girl (Alice Keohavong, Katie Pollock) from a Buddhist family despite the maternal threat that she will be reincarnated as a ‘cockroach’. A middle-aged man (Matt Bucher, Jonathan Ari Lander) recalls his grandmother, whose inclusive love and vitality, remain as a unique experience. In each of these stories, a simple object, the schoolgirl’s spilled satchel/the principal’s scarf, the unbuttoned jacket of Peter Rabbit, grandmother’s swinging pearls reference a complex realisation.
Linking each of these stories is the courage needed for individuals to break away from confining beliefs. In an absurdly entertaining twist, and cleverly managed transition, we are introduced to the persona of intrepid Barry (Gavan Roach, Mark Langham) who dares to take the first step while the crowd, afraid of sunrise, afraid of sunset, and of the in-between, cower in the back of the cave. Barry’s eagerness to test ‘What ifs’ however is tempered by the parable of ‘dead Reg’. The sheer energy released in this performance is a joyful experience.
By contrast, revelatory experiences are evoked with great delicacy and haunting beauty. The story of year 2012 in which a tremulous, uncertain girl (Naomi Livingstone, Ellana Costas) was “stalked by feathers” is not only deeply touching emotionally but also is very much a picture of a moment of mysterious grace. Her newly discovered “lightness of being” is unforgettably conveyed. In a lovely meditation on the capacity to wonder, the final story is set in a desert, the taleteller a woman (Helen Tonkin, Melita Rowston), waiting to video the opening of the sacred datura in fibonnaci sequence. She is busy with her camera and an internal monologue as she reflects on the role of her father in shaping her interest in nature. When technology fails at the crisis moment, and she watches rather than records, sees the flower unfold, she herself opens to the silence of wonder. It is a powerful few moments. We feel as the motorbike cyclist (Peter McCallum, Noelle Janaczewska) at the moment after collision, “thrown high in the air”.
This is little theatre at its best: limited in space but huge in impact. Congratulations to the team, including Tom Massey, stage manager and Ashley Walker, sound design.
