***** (5 stars)
“Totally absurd anarchy”
KAR is a show which makes me wish I had a completely new vocabulary with which to describe it: ordinary words seem utterly inadequate.
As we enter, we are thanked for coming and for our condolences. If we wish, we can take a small red nightlight holder whose candle is lit and place it in front of a rectangular plinth on which a man is lying. Two black-clad men, one on roller skates, are in attendance on him – one attends to the cigarette in his mouth, removing it and tapping its ash off when required. The other joins him when it becomes clear that the recumbent man needs a drink [which appears to be either whisky or vodka]. All this time, the [very poorly looking] man wheezes out a short musical phrase on the small piano accordion on his chest…
Having ushered us all in, the third man leaves his post at the door and scrutinises us all, checking against a long list in his hand. Suddenly “Where’s Anya?” – utter chaos ensues but she doesn’t appear.
At last the dying man speaks – “I’m leaving” – a violin lament accompanies his last tortured wheezings
“He’s dead”…
Respectful silence.
Suddenly the man sits up, pronouncing “Not yet….. later…. Tomorrow….” It’s both a shock and a huge relief
And we plunge into an hour of totally absurd anarchy, which is virtually indescribable! Five extremely talented artists keep us immersed in their surreality. It might help if you have a nodding acquaintance with Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina [which I read quite a few decades ago] and possibly understand Russian – there are some haunting folk-like songs weaving through the show.
But quite honestly, all you really have to do is sit and silently admire the staggering virtuosity of the performers – Anna Bubníková, Jiří N Jelínek, Ivo Sedláček, Pavol Smolárik and Matija Solce. Not only are they accomplished singers and musicians – violin, cello, double bass, piano accordion and a jaw-dropping array of percussion implements, including at one point a scythe – but also puppeteers, mime artists and comedians with very impressive physical dexterity and an impeccable sense of timing.
There’s a lot of vodka, some tea, two tiny steam locomotives, glasses of all shapes and sizes, an urn, a Eurasian woodcock…
And among it all, an irrepressible zest for and celebration of life
Yes, we will die
But later…tomorrow…
Not today!
Fekete Seretlek: KAR, Manipulate Festival, Festival Theatre Studio, Edinburgh, Runs until 5th February for tickets go to: Kar – Capital Theatres
ScotsGay Arts 