A Slow Air @ The Traverse

Perhaps the most impressive of A Slow Air’s various achievements is the way it manages to contain, within its deeply domestic story, informed and nuanced commentary on issues such as terrorism and class. It does this without ever feeling didactic or moving outside the progress of Morna and Athol’s respective narratives. Real life brother and sister Lewis and Kathryn Howden play these estranged siblings, recalling through a series of monologues vignettes of their childhood together and adult lives apart.

Simultaneously their present day circumstances are gradually unfurled in a manner both measured, yet capable of capturing the imagination completely. Morna and Athol’s stories are distinct; in turns self-deprecating and incensed she embodies a particularly feminine kind of tragedy. This is in contrast to her brother, who captures masculine responses of withdrawn mournfulness. Which is not to suggest the play is a relentlessly depressing affair. Indeed, it is the frequently laugh-out-loud humour, well-placed and perfectly executed, that adds an extra layer of poignancy and feels a distinctly Scottish trait.

Structurally, writer and director David Harrower offers a work which builds by degrees, using a number of dramatic reveals that had the audience audibly gasping in response. This is mirrored in the set design, which has the characters on a partially ripped out linoleum floor. The significance of this only becomes apparent in the latter stages of the play and when it does we again marvel at the multiple layers built into the production, all working toward a single purpose.

If you are seeking a performance where you can see your money on the stage A Slow Air is not for you. What you will get however are two performers at the peak of their powers, creating an entire world, and through simple recollection a series of fully realised ancillary characters. This is a consummate production, anchored by two naturalistic and restrained performances. It moves through a series of climaxes towards a crescendo that leaves one short of breath. Essential viewing.