Review: THE YELLOW WALLPAPER, The Coronet Theatre

Stephanie Mohr’s new production of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s feminist novella The Yellow Wallpaper is described as a “genre-defying production blending theatre, dance, live video and sound” - no pressure then!

It also sees the (ever-challenging) Coronet Theatre employ both the studio and auditorium spaces for a solo production for the first time.

Mohr has brought together an interesting cast of two significant performers for the adaptation: the actress, dancer and theatre maker Aurélia Thiérrée (Charlie Chaplin’s Granddaughter), and the dancer and choreographer Fukiko Takase.

The premise isn’t a light one, and is assumed to be semi-autobiographical. Gilman looks at the way women and their mental and physical health were regarded (by men) in the 19th century, and the idea of the "domestic sphere" that saw women “focused on childcare, housekeeping and religion” - and not through choice.

The protagonist is basically incarcerated by her husband for her 'own good', and things (obviously) go from bad to worse, with depression soon developing into psychosis. We see her obsession with the room's wallpaper manifest into her believing there's a woman trapped inside.

The performance experience starts differently than normal, as we're asked to go via the back of the building directly into the studio. As you enter there's a bed on display, a screen livestreaming from the auditorium and not a lot else. Random audio narration plays, one assumes Thiérrée, to create atmosphere but nothing live is actually happening. Or not around 7pm anyway. So I stayed for a short while, wanting to immerse, but then left to wait in the bar with everybody else. Pointless exercise or wasted opportunity? Neither! As it seems Takase is in fact present for an hour pre-show with a short break - exactly when I encountered the space!

As you arrive in the main auditorium there's a projection onto the back wall showing a livestream of the studio. Takase is seen pacing around the bed, laying on it and executing detailed hand and arm movements.

The stage is strewn with ropes, overturned chairs, hanging white dresses and a pram. The backdrop is adorned with scribbles all across it, and as you hear the sound of frenzied writing Thiérrée enters doing just that. And so the drama begins.

It's a 60 minute monologue for Thiérrée and it's a tour de force. The performance is measured, genuine, engrossed and engrossing. Her face is open throughout, with wide eyes that lend well to the quiet despair her character encounters.

Mohr has supported Thiérrée no end with a layered yet accessible production. The dramatic performances are underpinned by sensitive, dynamic lighting (with Hitchcockian use of shadow), a tastefully enhancing audio scape and atmospheric video projections. One being an antagonised Swan as Thiérrée has a moment of heightened anxiety.

Takase also plays a continuous, important presence throughout the work. She never oversells the movement or interpretation, and this powerfully subdued execution aligns well with Thiérrée's. The shifting of perspectives, bird's eye and cinematic, and at times both simultaneously adds further depth to her external, visual placement.

When Takase does enter the stage, especially the first time appearing out of nowhere from behind Thiérrée's shoulder, it makes a huge impact. The tangible arrival undoubtedly amplified by the distanced, video location beforehand. And acting as an artistically powerful method of communicating the woman in the wallpaper's realness. 

There's something uncomfortably voyeuristic about watching a person breakdown, but the sensitivity and balance of Thiérrée's performance and Mohr's astute direction make it more palatable than it should be. However, we shouldn't be in denial of life's ugliness - so bravi to all involved for going where theatre should, and making a complex production actually worth the complexity.

The Yellow Wallpaper is at The Coronet Theatre until 7 October

Photo Credit: Hugo Glendinning

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