March 2, 2008
Short shots of rhythmic performance are delivered as this warm-hearted troupe share their personalities and let the audience get to know their characters over a two-hour show. Having no interval means everyone stays with the beat as the tempo of the show rises and falls like a roaring rollercoaster. The fast and furious combat routine with sticks is breathtaking in its accuracy. Different lengths of hollow tubing are tapped on the ground creating an eerie style of sound like a journey through a jungle at night. Drummers hang by ropes from a frame that holds a giant gamelan of drums and take the theatre to a cathartic crescendo. Garish kitchen sinks are worn and used hilariously to simulate men urinating into buckets. A girl beating ferociously on two big drums offering a rhythm to a chap jumping in a wooden box across the stage illustrates the warm feeling of collaboration that runs through this company. The cast member pouring grit in front of the feet of the dancers before they cut up the stage with their tap steps echoes this. It’s like a drug, this coming out of yourself on stage. The group is bonded by the need in each other to perform and to share the joy of what it brings. Luckily spectators are not excluded from the fun that is unfolding on stage!
With a single clap the charismatic leader of the pack makes the audience part of the gang even though some of the more challenging rhythms are a bit beyond this reviewer’s skills. It’s a bonding experience. All human life is contained in this performance. A skinny comic character works hard to be part of the group but always there is no chair for him. The gang who crowd him and rustle their newspapers in his face shatters his peace; this is the cue for an urban melody based on the performers clearing their phlegm. Wearing comfortable ‘come as you are’ work clothes, the ensemble share themselves freely with us in the traditions of physical theatre. As the trials of life are shared there is no façade that separates audience and performer as a dialogue that is full of gestures and no words is established. It is stunning the amount of communication that is achieved by rhythm alone.
Watching the show as it moves from form to form I feel I am not alone in struggling to figure out exactly how to describe this phenomenon to folk at work next day. Much of Stomp’s work evolves from generic everyday objects. The evening starts with the humdrum of dragging a sweeping brush over the stage. Other routines involve cigarette lighters and water cooler bottles; so much of it is transferable to our everyday life. Before I know it I’m uncontrollably tapping out one of their rhythms on a biro. This is deeply satisfying. The brochure lists performers past and present, giving the reassuring feeling that they never truly leave the company. So we are all part of the journey of this runaway British success story that shows no signs of slowing down. Whilst the list of performers for each show can change, the website reads ‘Obviously everyone has to drum’. Whilst that rules me out, dustbin lids will never be the same again.
With a single clap the charismatic leader of the pack makes the audience part of the gang even though some of the more challenging rhythms are a bit beyond this reviewer’s skills. It’s a bonding experience. All human life is contained in this performance. A skinny comic character works hard to be part of the group but always there is no chair for him. The gang who crowd him and rustle their newspapers in his face shatters his peace; this is the cue for an urban melody based on the performers clearing their phlegm. Wearing comfortable ‘come as you are’ work clothes, the ensemble share themselves freely with us in the traditions of physical theatre. As the trials of life are shared there is no façade that separates audience and performer as a dialogue that is full of gestures and no words is established. It is stunning the amount of communication that is achieved by rhythm alone.
Watching the show as it moves from form to form I feel I am not alone in struggling to figure out exactly how to describe this phenomenon to folk at work next day. Much of Stomp’s work evolves from generic everyday objects. The evening starts with the humdrum of dragging a sweeping brush over the stage. Other routines involve cigarette lighters and water cooler bottles; so much of it is transferable to our everyday life. Before I know it I’m uncontrollably tapping out one of their rhythms on a biro. This is deeply satisfying. The brochure lists performers past and present, giving the reassuring feeling that they never truly leave the company. So we are all part of the journey of this runaway British success story that shows no signs of slowing down. Whilst the list of performers for each show can change, the website reads ‘Obviously everyone has to drum’. Whilst that rules me out, dustbin lids will never be the same again.