The Lastmaker @ Tramway, 7 Mar
Astonishingly rigorous and sublime, experimental but also gently moving.
| 01 Apr 2008
When Goat Island last appeared at Tramway, their distinctive almost-dance and drama was put at the service of an ill-considered intellectual hotchpotch of incoherent analyses. The Lastmaker, which will stand as Goat Island's final work, is astonishingly rigorous and sublime, experimental but also gently moving.
The Lastmaker is based around several disparate stories: the shifting uses of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Lenny Bruce's final routine as beautifully re-enacted by Karen Christopher, Saint Francis' farewell re-enacted as Larry Grayson camp and Bach's Art of the Fugue. These are never connected and other half-recognised ideas float around, never explained. There is no narrative and the five performers shift restlessly between characters: anything straightforward and easy has been ruthlessly expunged. Instead, Goat Island present poignant, evocative scenes, allowing the audience to apply personal interpretations.
After a vigorous first half - that plays for kitsch laughs before commanding the attention with an 'architectural' dance - The Lastmaker gradually settles into contemplation, suggesting a spirituality rooted in the physical world and a compassion for frailty. In each scene new characters collide and juxtapose tiny receding visions that speak of love and loss in awkward, hesitant ways - only Lenny Bruce's belligerence and Bach's gentility break up the ritualistic pace and slow shifts of scenery.
Throughout this farewell show, the company display mutual respect and concern for each other, setting the stage and arranging each other's props. Without explicitly placing any particular meaning on their speeches and dances, they somehow transmit serenity and a sacredness that refuses celebrity or the lionisation of the artists. Yet it is only confusing in so far as the effect seems magical and inexplicable: the message of hope and rebirth expressed in the tiniest of gestures rings as clear as a church bell summoning the faithful. [Gareth K Vile]
The Lastmaker is based around several disparate stories: the shifting uses of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Lenny Bruce's final routine as beautifully re-enacted by Karen Christopher, Saint Francis' farewell re-enacted as Larry Grayson camp and Bach's Art of the Fugue. These are never connected and other half-recognised ideas float around, never explained. There is no narrative and the five performers shift restlessly between characters: anything straightforward and easy has been ruthlessly expunged. Instead, Goat Island present poignant, evocative scenes, allowing the audience to apply personal interpretations.
After a vigorous first half - that plays for kitsch laughs before commanding the attention with an 'architectural' dance - The Lastmaker gradually settles into contemplation, suggesting a spirituality rooted in the physical world and a compassion for frailty. In each scene new characters collide and juxtapose tiny receding visions that speak of love and loss in awkward, hesitant ways - only Lenny Bruce's belligerence and Bach's gentility break up the ritualistic pace and slow shifts of scenery.
Throughout this farewell show, the company display mutual respect and concern for each other, setting the stage and arranging each other's props. Without explicitly placing any particular meaning on their speeches and dances, they somehow transmit serenity and a sacredness that refuses celebrity or the lionisation of the artists. Yet it is only confusing in so far as the effect seems magical and inexplicable: the message of hope and rebirth expressed in the tiniest of gestures rings as clear as a church bell summoning the faithful. [Gareth K Vile]