Noether, a new play written and directed by Esme Somerside Gregory, ran for four nights last week at the Mathematical Institute. The show is a portrait of its titular character, groundbreaking Jewish German physicist Emmy Noether, and - despite its 70 minute runtime - is dazzlingly dense with both emotion and narrative.
Staged in a lecture theatre, the first row of seating was commandeered as part of the stage. A large projection screen was put to good use (more on that shortly) and otherwise the set and props were fairly minimal: a desk, chairs, a whiteboard and a smattering of papers that were strewn and gathered during the productions.
We first meet Emmy Noether in 1910s Germany. She’s already recognised as a phenomenal mathematical talent, and teaches at the University of Göttingen, but as a woman, she is unpaid and listed only as an assistant. We watch as her attempts at habilitation are blocked by a variety of misogynistic arguments. Several reflect women’s status at the time, the widely held understanding of their lesser abilities, but in one heated exchange, a member of the department remarks on how much the men of Germany would suffer if every wife and mother were allowed to pursue work outside their homes. This stood out to me as subtly significant, in highlighting that the real issue Noether’s colleagues took with women at their work was not with their competence but the threat of societal change they posed; not their supposed weakness, but their potential power. This fear mirrors the threat the Nazi party will later find in Noether’s Jewishness, as the tide of fascism grips the country.
The show is a marriage of meticulously researched fact and deeply inventive recreation. The dialogue and narration are woven near-verbatim from letters, memoirs and documents. It’s a credit to Somerside Gregory’s ear for dialogue that the lines land naturally, and the dramatic tension stays taut.
Emmy Noether herself is luminously played by Yael Erez, her pale flowing blue blouse setting her apart from the rest of the cast; a six strong ensemble each dressed in black trousers and a white button-down. The ensemble takes on a multitude of roles, illuminating important figures across Esme’s life. And 'figures' is the perfect term, as it’s not only people that the cast portray, but also mathematical notation.
Which brings us to the inventive side of the show: we witness Noether devising her first theorem, the lights dim and cool, washing the theatre in a dark blue. A melodic but urgent electronica fills the space, delicate line drawings expand and contract on the screen overhead. As Noether writes on the whiteboard and narrates her thinking, the ensemble moves rhythmically around her, pulling angular shapes that mimic the symbols on the board, or perhaps neurons bouncing around a brain. It was a bold choice that could have jarred with the historical setting, but the elements came together to create something immediate and electrifying.
While this was a memorable example, the production was packed throughout with creative blocking, lighting and sound choices - important for a subject that could easily feel too abstract or be rendered hazy by the century since its events passed. I have no passion for physics but found myself keenly invested in Noether’s own.
Fitting, Noether is the lifeblood of the piece, her presence felt rather than told. Outside of her extraordinary talent, she comes across as a steady, kind, humble person, devoted to the people around her. The fact that she is not intentionally an activist makes the bigotry that threatens her career (and life) feel all the more despicable.
While the events of Noether’s life are reported around her, Erez’s emotions ground us in the present. There is a breathtaking moment when a Brownshirt comes to intimidate Noether at her home mid-lesson. As she rises to meet him at the door, her expression swirls with a multitude of emotions, fear, defiance, protectiveness, before draining to a bleak, terrible understanding: something cruel is coming and things are going to change.
While it never feels didactic, it’s impossible to not find relevance to today in this biography, its illustration of the unjustifiable cost of discrimination. I suspect that this production has not seen its final curtain - I hope that’s the case. It’s a beautifully lean and moving work that will resonate with audiences from all walks of life.