Exoplanets

Norwich based Curious Directive have been ploughing an almost unique furrow for over fifteen years, combining science, technology and theatre to produce work that is, well, curious. Having seen two of their previous productions I knew that even that narrowly defined remit is no indicator of what you might be getting. Pioneer was an extraordinary fusion of science fact and fiction, a multi-layered narrative that left me impressed by their ambition but unsure of how well they reined that ambition in. Frogman was a supernatural tale reminiscent of MR James, but for the fact it was told through the medium of nascent VR technology. What the shows had in common were the size of venue hosting them, the former in Edinburgh's Zoo Southside, the latter in the Norwich Arts Centre. To find them performing at the Theatre Royal, and with a show no less idiosyncratic than its predecessors, was disorienting to say the least. That they were doing so to a full house felt like I had slipped sideways into an alternative universe, where a mash up of live action, orchestral performance and planetary projections was being presented to an audience more usually served a diet of musicals and thrillers. So, before we go any further, plaudits are due to the Theatre Royal for hosting such a challenging show, and hats off as well to the good folk of Norwich for taking a punt on it.

While I knew enough about Curious Directive to not bother second guessing the evening's trajectory, I can say with confidence I wasn't expecting what I got. Based on discussions I had in the interval, I wasn't alone in being oversold the promise of a planetarium experience, while I had, conversely, glossed over the idea we were getting an orchestra. Add to the mix that the theatrical element of the evening dominated - not least due to some excellent performances - and it quickly became apparent this could go just about anywhere. It was something I found hugely invigorating – it’s a rare night at the theatre where you really don't know what's coming next.

It is, therefore, with a degree of caution that I go into too much detail here, but it’s fair to say, as it’s revealed very early on, that the narrative focuses on Audrey, a composer that has only recently rediscovered her musical voice, following the death of her partner, astrophysicist Mari. We meet Audrey as her a class of young musicians is interrupted by an interviewer from Classic FM. The action then skips back and forth, so that we see Mari lecturing, the couple's relationship and the bumpy ride experienced when they decide to foster Leo.

In a theatrical tour de force, the narrative is broken up by Audrey's compositions, superbly rendered by the City of London Sinfonia, dramatically revealed on tiered staging that has been previously obscured by screening. I have found the acoustics of the Theatre Royal an obstacle when it came to classical performance. Bluntly put, the stage isn't big enough the musicians at the back and they get lost in the mix. Here was the simple yet effective solution, allowing pin sharp projection of all the players, positioned to perfectly balance the compositions of the seven composers involved - take note, Theatre Royal, that this is how you do it. Intended as a homage to Holst, one might have supposed using seven composers risked dissonance, particularly given the conceit that all the music came from Audrey, but there was a surprising synergy between the pieces, offering up a pleasing whole, as one exoplanet after another was celebrated.

Less successful was the blending of theatre and music. Hoisted by its own petard, the play managed to invest so much interest in Audrey and Mari's relationship that the music occasionally felt like marking time until we could get back to the story. Amanda Hadingue and Serena Manteghi brought a warmth and chemistry to their character's partnership, so that even though, in truth, nothing very remarkable happened to them for a great chunk of the play, we wanted to spend time with them. A special mention is also due to the chameleon-like ability of Sophie Steer, who played both the sullen youthful Leo and the breezy, comedic reporter, Helen. Foolish though it may sound, I didn't realise the two characters were performed by the same person until curtain call, such was the skill with which she delineated the two.

The abiding theme of the production was the juxtaposition of the almost unimaginable enormity of the universe with the simple tale of three intertwined lives. Vastly different in scale, yet equally remarkable, I took the message to be that our relationships are to be valued as much as our discoveries, and are, in their own way, just as mysterious. To that end, the play was full of imaginative touches. We see Leo's successive birthday celebrations, superficially repetitious, but subtly different as he matures. Helen, garrulous and inquisitive, gets all the best lines, bringing welcome levity to bear. Images of exoplanets are superimposed by the domestic circularity of paint pots and cup cakes. Audrey's students expressed themselves through the sound of their instruments.

That said, while this was a play bursting with ideas, there were occasionally too many ideas. Those student's involvement subsequent drifted away, never to return. A figure, repeatedly drifting across stage like Banquo's Ghost, remained a mystery to me. That telescope at the beginning really got in the way, and those illuminated globes at the end just looked odd. These are minor quibbles, however, and it's worth remembering this was the very first performance of Exoplanets. It's easy to imagine creator and director Jack Lowe, in the wings, furiously scribbling away notes on what did and didn't work in front of a live audience, and slack should be cut accordingly.

More problematic for me was Mari's death, which despite being signposted from the outset, ultimately felt like a footnote. I expected, and I feel deserved, a greater exploration of grief we were told about, but never really felt. Leo's adjustment to life with Mari and Audrey was something I think we were to gather was challenging, yet what we saw was no more than the typical truculence of a teenager. The play was devised, and I got the sense it had a backstory known to the cast, but which to some extent has got lost in development. I'd suggest, in taking the production forward, a step back is taken, in order to see the play as the audience does, and tinker accordingly.

Reservations aside, though, this was a brave attempt to fuse drama, science and music and thoroughly deserved the applause it received. The City of London Sinfonia performed the music magnificently - I'd happily attend an unbroken rendition of the pieces - and the acting was unimpeachable. I'm still pinching myself that a work of such audacious eccentricity and scale found its way onto the biggest performance space in Norwich, and I am so glad there is still room for that to happen.