ÉMILIE
By Sophie Lindsay
Writer, Composer, Director: Sophie Lindsay
Music Director: Peau Halapua
Set, Costume and Props Design: Nati Pereira
Lighting: D. Andrew Potvin
Technical: Sam Mence (CASTL)
Graphic Designers: Gustavo Garcia
With: Beth Alexander, Justin Rogers, Bronwyn Ensor, Clementine Mills
Music: Peau Halapua (violin), Sarah Spence (cello) and Sophie Lindsay (pre-recorded piano)
Q Theatre Loft
Until 23 September
Reviewed by Malcolm Calder
It’s tough making one’s way in Aotearoa’s creative sector. Especially so in Covid times where ill-timed lockdowns, stay-at-home audiences and shrinking budgets have all made life rather perilous.
As a result the Covid years have seen many projects created in near-isolation or in small-group contexts. Many have been the work of early-career creatives, the majority are subjective and some even highly personal. Perhaps understandably their predominating world-view and potential audience has been a small one. I have seen many and my sense of ennui has grown accordingly.
So when a Covid-period piece that is intelligent, mature and authentic pops up reeking of class it is to be prized. And when it does so with vigour and a multi-textured vitality that deftly touches actual events and real people, it is like a breath of fresh air.
Émilie is one of those shows.
Sophie Lindsay tells an 18th century tale of love and ambition between two people. Philosopher-poet Voltaire, scion of the Age of Enlightenment, falls for Émilie du Châtelet – wife, mother, mathematician, scientist, essayist and translator. And she for him.
Set in the realm of the French lesser nobility – its customs, attitudes, dress and social mannerisms are all well realised in what is a fairly simple staging – Émilie and Voltaire rapidly develop an interdependence, a mutual appreciation and yet an insistence on pursuing the outcomes of their own minds. For this is a love story. And, far more than a mere infatuation, this love story runs the gamut of both their emotional and their rational minds. It embraces disagreement, sarcasm, encouragement, some very funny moments and an appreciation of beauty. It is built on mutual support, encouragement and intellectual rapport. It is moving.
Beth Alexander plays Émilie with an assured authority that allows us to see the occasional scraps of Émilie’s fragility sneaking in occasionally. But ultimately she is driven by her own knowledge and sense of self – something uncommon in 18th century France. Not for one second does she doubt her own capabilities though. Nor her love for Voltaire. Both intellectually and emotionally she is a polymath
Justin Rogers (Voltaire) is portrayed as a slightly less multi-dimensional, but perhaps Sophie Lindsay felt her audience already knows him pretty well and focussed on some of his specific personality traits and their outcomes. Nonetheless I left the theatre never doubting his partnership with Émilie. I felt I had been enlightened about his inner self and truly felt his heart break at her death.
They are superbly supported by two salonnières who double as ladies-in-waiting (Bronwyn Ensor, Clementine Mills). Each is clearly established, their differences acknowledged and the subtlety of their contrapuntal comedy works very well indeed.
Supporting everyone is the incidental onstage music also written by her Sophie Lindsay. Peau Halapua’s violin coupled with Sarah Spence’s cello (and some prerecorded piano by Lindsay herself) is something we rarely see in this country. It echoes and reflects, while the simple, haunting Émilie’s Theme remains with me as I write.
Nati Pereira’s set for this production of Émilie is simple and quite appropriately suggests rather than states. Likewise her costuming is simple, effective and the changes are both subtle and apt. I didn’t know how much one could achieve with a French Fan.
Émilie is very definitely a breath of fresh air. It may have also revealed a playwright who will go far.
I understand that this production is partly funded through Boosted and has not reached its target at the time of writing. Support for shows like Émilie is precisely what the Boosted scheme is all about.
New Zealand Arts Review 