Orlando

“Until now, I have never given my sex a thought” reveals Orlando to the audience on waking up as a woman after 30 years lived as a man. Strange? Well, it’s Virginia Woolf.

Her novel following the life of Orlando, born in Renaissance England as a man, turned into a woman and endowed with immortality, is certainly not easy to adapt for stage. And that’s why Cryptic deserves particular credit. The complex text is beautifully turned into an abstract solo show that allows Judith Williams to display all her talent. And trust me, she has talent to sell. Her strong scenic presence keeps the eyes of the audience glued on her throughout the play, which is never boring or predictable. The performance is accompanied and underlined by projections and recorded music and voice, the only elements I did not entirely like.

 

I have mixed feelings when it comes to the use of projections in the theatre. Sure, they can give shows an unprecedented possibility to expand beyond the barriers of what can be represented on stage. They permit flashbacks, flashforwards, insights into the characters’ memories or unspeakable thoughts.

The shows that have stricken me the most, those few productions that ‘have changed my life’, were theatre at its simplest, with technology limited to lights and sound. Too often projections are (unsubtly) used to divert attention from poor acting.This is not the case of Orlando.

The projections are aesthetically pleasing, occasionally relevant and a very nice ornament to high quality acting. Only, a few times I found them unnecessary and self-indulgent. Same for the sound, especially for the chilling, electronic voice of Antye Greie.

Orlando is a good example of literature skillfully adapted for the stage. Its staging and interpretation are flawless, technically exquisite. It’s only a shame that, like a beautiful picture hung on a wall, it fails at rising any emotion. Aesthetic appreciation is all I felt while watching this uncommunicative, although sleek and impeccable production.