***** (5 stars)
“Scarily prescient!”
Before the show begins, a recorded announcement reminds us several times not to switch off our phones, so that our whereabouts are known “at all times”. Felix and Felka march on stage and invite us to sing along with them in praise of the Pale Baron of the Underwater State, whose birthday it is next week – but it soon becomes apparent that we don’t know the words.
We must learn them – it is most important that we are loud in our praise of the Baron, who alone has the right to hold his enormous jewelled talking stick. He has arranged that on his birthday 1,000 new stars will be catapulted into the heavens where they will stick: there will be no more shooting stars. Felix and Felka are concerned that our singing is not loud and enthusiastic enough, that we don’t know the words: we must praise the Baron’s glorious body, wonderful memory and above all his right to wield his magnificent talking stick.
Felix and Felka seem on edge: is there someone hanging around outside? is there someone in the loading dock? Is there the danger of an inspection? Are the people in the audience okay? Do they know why they are really there? It’s okay, it’s safe to get on with what we’re really here for – a performance by Felix and Felka of their own songs, revolutionary songs, which they can’t perform in public, and which celebrate the poets who have disappeared.
The Pale Baron hates many things and people, but he especially hates poets: poets don’t rhyme, and there can be a lot of meaning in the blank spaces between the lines. Children must be under constant supervision: there must be NO questions. Public radio announcements constantly reinforce the message that that the world is a shop, which must constantly be kept going. People must prove that they are useful and productive, or they will be reclassified as ‘inferiors’. It is a public duty to inform the authorities about ‘inferiors’, and most especially those most loathsome ARTISTS. Foreigners are looking for land, but are redundant and inferior: the Underwater State is only for birthright residents.
Felix and Felka keep reiterating their ‘good’ credentials: they are not poets, they are musicians – but it’s clear they are constantly on edge. We learn that Felka is from everywhere and nowhere, born in a country that doesn’t exist any more, lost my mother tongue, have no roots…. Felix, on the other hand, has never lived anywhere else: he is stable, a base to rely on, someone with deep roots. We are introduced to Ronnie, a plant that had to be rescued when the water came, and is now an indoor plant who accompanies the two musicians on tour.
The music is fascinating mix of styles and genres. Sometimes it’s hard to hear the lyrics, which was a pity, given that they were extremely pertinent. I particularly liked the quiet lament the sea climbs into the sun: look, the land goes under, the love song to the earth, and the final song in which Felix hopes that Felka finds somewhere in the stars where she could finally put down roots. The audience really loved the dwarf song [the Pale Baron is extremely fond of dwarfs, most possibly because they are smaller than he is…].
The depth of the relationship between Felix and Felix gradually becomes very clear to us – but do they realise it themselves? I was surprised by how gripped the young audience were, how totally engaged in the ‘are they aren’t they’ relationship, and how much they wanted the couple to be together. I did wonder if they’d be held by the breaks in lively action, especially when it got bleakly serious: credit to the actors, they held them through the difficult bits, and the questions asked afterwards showed a keen interest in both the play and the players.
The undercurrent of fear in this world was brilliantly portrayed. I would be interested to know quite how much they understood of the repressive, judgemental and ‘othering’ society that was being evidenced. The emphasis on borders, outsiders, moving on, punishment and repression of anything inventive, creative, questioning, were clear to the adults present: did the kids also pick up on these? Oh to be a fly on the classroom wall when the show was being discussed back in school – and I hope it led into conversations about how to prevent such things becoming even more of a reality than they already are…
The Belgian company Kopergietery originally performed The Pale Baron in Dutch, and re-learned it in English, for which I [and probably the rest of the audience] am/ are profoundly grateful. Anna Vercammen wrote the words, and Joeri Joeri Cnapelinckx made the music for the songs which run throughout the show. Between them they sing, play piano, guitar, euphonium, pocket trumpet and a strange analogue device with many voices. They slowly create a scarily accurate picture of a world in which a monstrous egomaniac controls everything, while everyone who displeases him meets a very unpleasant end.
The Pale Baron will remain with me for some time to come – I hope it will prompt me to action, too.
Imaginate Children’s Festival, The Pale Baron, Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, Runs until Saturday 31st May for more information go to: https://www.imaginate.org.uk/festival/whats-on/the-pale-baron
ScotsGay Arts 