2019

"Death of a Salesman" at the Piccadilly Theatre

Successful revivals – and this is one of the best – tend to present a classic text with reverence or remodel it for the current day. Trying to do both – respecting and reinventing – usually pleases nobody. But just such a combination has been achieved by co-directors Marianne Elliott and Miranda Cromwell with Arthur Miller’s classic story of Willy Loman’s demise. It’s like no production of the show before, but presents Miller’s concerns for the working man with utmost conviction. The result is marvellous. 

Casting the Loman family as African American is the most obvious difference. The consequences are profound, rippling through the show, continually adding layers to Miller’s text. Take Willy’s subservience to his much younger boss – more painful than ever. Highlighting the play’s concern with Willy’s breakdown is novel, too: since Miller’s day appreciation of mental health, including dementia, and how distressing it can be for victims, has grown. Flashback scenes, with bold lighting design from Aideen Malone, add a distressing air that increases sympathy for Willy. The production takes modern sensibilities into account and fills the play with new questions and tensions.

Meanwhile Miller’s political concerns are amplified. Rather than connect Willy to buzzwords (“the squeezed middle” or the “precariat”), ideas about the dignity of work, perhaps old fashioned, are explored as the writer intended. Likewise, the aspirations that obsess Willie, maybe even drive him mad, are given space. A period atmosphere is aided by Femi Temowo’s compositions and musical direction – I don’t think Miller’s ever been this cool. The brilliant design, by Anna Fleischle, makes the family home, just about to be purchased, a frame: a perfect reflection of how transparent these lives become to us.

Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce in 'Death of a Salesman'
Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce

As if all this weren’t enough, this production also boasts some of the most fantastic performances you could witness. The whole cast is impeccable, even the smaller roles who add to the music in the show. Victoria Hamilton-Barrit and Matthew Seadon-Young excel, despite their characters coming close to being devices. The Loman brothers are vividly depicted by Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù and Natey Jones with performances that complement each other – as they should. The tension for one bubbles under while the other’s anger proves explosive.

Making a West End debut that will surely be remembered for a long time, Wendell Pierce takes the lead role with astonishing skill. Willy is not an appealing character, rather a tin-pot tyrant who’s easy to condemn. But Pierce makes him a man you can warm to – and a surprisingly diffident person that you feel for. Adding a purity of intention, focusing on his sons, he becomes a noble character whose end is truly tragic. 

As his wife Linda, Sharon D Clarke recognises the role as the lynchpin of the play. Often quite literally centre stage, Clarke has the presence to make the role major. For Linda is also the play’s moral compass and Clarke gives a performance of dignified intensity that becomes heart-breaking. Finally, the chemistry between the two leads is something really special – adding an urgency to the drama and, again, an emotional impact that makes this the most moving Miller I’ve ever seen.

Until 4 January 2020

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Brinkhoff & Mogenburg

2019

“Dear Evan Hansen” at the Noël Coward Theatre

Theatrical responses to young adult mental health hit the big time with this highly anticipated tear-jerking transfer from Broadway. Teen suicide and all manner of problems for millennials make the target audience sometimes painfully clear. But there’s an intelligence behind Steven Levenson’s excellent book that raises Dear Evan Hansen well above many coming-of-age dramas.

The action revolves around social media (these kids are more online than at school). Tension mounts as Evan’s deceit, about his friendship with deceased class mate Connor, entangles him in the world wide web. A campaign, including Kickstarter, and the inevitable empowering vocabulary that follows, is treated with a mature, sometimes sceptical, touch. 

Doug Colling and Sam Tutty in the London production of "Dear Evan Hansen"
Doug Colling and Sam Tutty

Connor’s death is the best thing that’s happened to Evan; he finally has a profile at school. But the friendship it engenders is an imaginary one with the dead boy. Meanwhile, contact with Connor’s sister results in a clever twist on Cyrano de Bergerac that’s heartbreaking. Along the way, the roles provide strong parts for Doug Colling and Lucy Anderson, who contribute to the uneasy atmosphere that Michael Greif’s direction explicates. As Evan promises his lost and lonely cohorts “You Will Be Found” – becoming an internet hit himself – the drama that he will be found out is considerable.

Sam Tutty and Rebecca McKinnis in the London production of 'Dear Evan Hansen'
Sam Tutty and Rebecca McKinnis

The story may be simple, even predictable, but it broadens gracefully. Becoming a show that concerns mourning and parenthood, there are well-drawn roles for the adults in the piece. Unashamedly, rather than learning from themselves or their peers, they are the characters for their children to learn from. Rebecca McKinnis is superb as Evan’s struggling mum, while Lauren Ward and Rupert Young play Connor’s grieving parents with believable intensity. All three are included in scenes of psychological complexity that ensure depth.

Scenes of extended dialogue mean that Dear Evan Hansen is – almost – as much a play with songs as a musical. The show has its own pace, handled boldly by Greif, that is distinctive. The numbers by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul are already hits, so whatever formula they have for bringing on the tears is clearly effective. The music is good, although more of it, as well as more variety, would be welcome. And the lyrics are superb – not a word jars. 

These numbers are not easy to perform. As well as demanding considerable acting skills, the score acts symbiotically with the performances to make the show increasingly impressive. The same pressure makes the title role especially exciting, as you need a superb singer and a strong actor. Ticking both boxes, the part of Evan is sure to make a star of Sam Tutty. While the show is more of an ensemble piece than you might expect, the role of Evan is crucial. Again, Levenson allows a considerable complexity that Tutty can develop: this isn’t your average hero, or even your everyday misfit. The balance to retain sympathy for Evan proves fascinating.

If the conclusion of Dear Evan Hansen is a little pat, it is also impressively understated; any positivity isn’t cloying. Hope for the future is the best that can be offered, maintaining a distinctly melancholy air. Seclusion is the prevailing theme; which is especially sad as you never forget this is a show for young people. Thankfully, support and a sense of perspective are present – they give the piece an underlying wisdom. And the show’s success provides inspiration; the audience response, amidst much sniffling, is contagious. Deservedly, lonely Evan Hansen should prove to be a long runner.

Until 30 May 2020

www.dearevanhansen.com

Photos by Matthew Murphy

2019

“Gaping Hole” at The Ovalhouse

Writers and performers Rachel Mars and Greg Wohead are playing a literal part in this venue’s special “demolition season”. As the theatre says goodbye to its current home, the hole in the title of this show turns out to be real – a big part of the floor has been taken away! Mars and Wohead have given themselves an unusual stage for an original show that’s full of creativity.

Gaping Hole is a two-hander that looks at fiction – in particular the gaps and flaws in plots – with wit, imagination and charm. Starting out with straight comedy, Mars and Wohead chat about silly moments in Hollywood movies in a lovely convivial manner.

A couple of cinematic puzzles are taken up – from The Shawshank Redemption and Titanic – to be elaborated into fantastic stories. The crazy developments (any revelations would be real spoilers) build cleverly; the storytelling skills are impressive.

The work behind crafting these additions to both films is paralleled with effort of a different kind. Building things lies at the heart of Gaping Hole and as the deconstructed floor is covered – what a strange pleasure watching people at work is – we arrive at another section for the show.

The idea of “personal plot holes” asks how our actions don’t fit the stories we like to tell about our own lives. Wohead imagines his own future death while Mars takes a trip into her past. It’s a fascinating idea for artistic motivation that proves tremendously constructive. If there’s a failing, it’s with how short the whole show is.

As the Ovalhouse plans to reopen in Brixton in 2021 (you can follow plans at #RoadToBrixton) the solution seems obvious. A long-time location for radical theatre makers just like Mars and Wohead, here’s hoping they find a home at the new venue so that they can continue to explore and tell their tales.

Until 23 November 2019

www.ovalhouse.co.uk

Photo by Alex Brenner

2019

“I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change” at the Chiswick Playhouse

This massive off-Broadway hit, which has had international success since its first outing in 1996, is the first show at the previously named Tabard Theatre in Turnham Green. More a review than a musical, with book and lyrics from Joe DiPietro and music by Jimmy Roberts, it’s a fun night out providing plenty of laughs. With a sketch show feel and an eye on contemporary mores, the songs provide a “world wind tour” through many stages of love – from first dates to divorce – and makes for perfect fringe theatre material.

The production is a UK premiere of sorts – it’s a new version of the show – and director Charlotte Westenra does a fine job conveying a fresh feel to both additional and familiar songs. If the recent numbers are a touch predictable (focusing on technology), they’re funny enough. Picking out situations everyone can recognise means DiPietro’s lyrics often have a stand-up comedy feel. And seeing the jokes a mile off can become tiresome. But Westenra deals with potential pitfalls well: she uses a light touch, steering clear of cynicism, and rapid costume changes to create an informal atmosphere. There are heartfelt songs to change the pace, but the emphasis is on entertainment and the 80 minutes zip along.

The production is aided by a top-notch quartet who bring out a lot from each number. In alphabetical order, Dominic Hodson, Laura Johnson, George Rae and Naomi Slights all deliver a variety of accents, ages and characters that mean they impress with each number. Do the boys have an edge? Playing two old men towards the end might mean they take the prize. But there’s enough battling of the sexes in the show itself – and all four impress with their acting. Even better, the production is a chance to hear perfect singing without amplification – a truly welcome change that I love.

Until 30 November 2019

www.chiswickplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Savannah Photographic

2019

"Ghost Quartet" at the Boulevard Theatre

Here’s another new theatre for London, and a particularly stylish one – it’s clear that cash has been splashed on this refit of the Comic Strip’s one-time home in Walker’s Court, Soho. Still a little seedy outside, the theatre is one of the comfiest I’ve visited and the first year of programming from artistic director Rachel Edwards looks like a good mix. First up is a deceptively modest affair, a song cycle for four performers from Dave Malloy that’s a stylish American import aimed at a sophisticated clientele.

While there may be a Halloween connection, Edgar Allen Poe interests Malloy as much as ghosts. The piece takes in so many different kinds of relationships, around the themes of love and loss, with so many references, it ends up quite dizzying. Malloy cites the concept album as an inspiration, with track numbers announced to the audience, but any concept seems loose. There is a unifying story buried here, a love triangle with two sisters, but the focus isn’t clear. The story spans time and space and even seems to be connected to the Arabian Nights! It all becomes a little too confusing to actually enjoy. While fluid identities may be exciting to explore, they don’t aid any narrative here. And unrelated songs, while often musical highlights, don’t help either. As for the score, it’s eclectic to the point of bewildering. You expect a few scraped strings given the title but there are moments when Malloy gets carried away with the weird that aren’t so wonderful. And he isn’t scared of lyrics devoid of poetry, which is fine, but occasional imagery that could be described as baroque adds to an inconsistent feel.

Zubin Varla in Ghost Quartet at the Boulevard Theatre
Zubin Varla

If these are problems – and you could easily defend or revel in the compositions’ diversity – the cast take them in their stride. The Boulevard Theatre has recruited some serious talent that really delivers. Zubin Varla serves as a commanding presence and sounds fantastic, while ‘cellist Niccolò Curradi leads the music. Both Carly Bawden and Maimuna Memon play plenty of instruments and their voices are remarkable; Memon is especially good when it comes to creepy, Bawden a natural at puzzled innocence as past lives come into focus. The whole cast makes the more outlandish moments of the stories feel grounded and, when it comes to audience participation – of which there’s rather a lot – shows yet more expertise.

Carly Bowden and Maimuna Memon in Ghost Quartet at the Boulevard Theatre
Carly Bowden and Maimuna Memon

A lot of Ghost Quartet is wilfully quirky. It’s a quality that clearly appeals to director Bill Buckhurst. Again, that audience participation comes into play, with drinks and musical instruments handed out to the crowd prompting a chaotic feel. The benefits include keeping an audience engaged – it’s impossible to know what’s coming next, and it feels original and is often funny. But being so obviously ‘challenging’ can come across as contrived – to the point of being smug. Nonetheless, the show is undoubtedly an excellent choice for the venue; Buckhurst makes the most of its intimacy and clubby atmosphere, while Emma Chapman has fun with an impressive lighting rig. While I can’t imagine many falling in love with Ghost Quartet, it is a natural choice that makes a super start for the Boulevard Theatre.

Until 4 January 2019

www.boulevardtheatre.co.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

2019

"The Antipodes" at the National Theatre

Playwright Annie Baker’s first two outings on the Southbank made me a big fan. While The Flick and John were also concerned with storytelling, this third trip to London makes that topic even more explicit. As with the other plays, the setting is one room; this time a group of writers are trying to come up with ideas. Frustratingly, the scenario is never fully explained but as they brainstorm, telling seemingly random stories for inspiration, the play becomes obtuse and ends up a disappointment.

Led by Conleth Hill’s Sandy, some kind of studio guru who wants to create a “safe space” for ideas, there’s sharp satire on the creative industries, with some great observations on hierarchy in the workplace. And, as usual, Baker’s ear for contemporary voices is faultless. It’s a shame none of the characters we meet is someone we come to care about. Two old hands reveal intimate details just to shock (which leads to great performances from Arthur Darvill and Matt Bardock). Other recruits do less well: Stuart McQuarrie’s character, superbly performed, disappears after his tender personal history doesn’t impress. It all raises questions about creativity, pretty obviously. There are lots of discussions about formulas for stories that naturally interest writers – maybe audiences not so much? But Hollywood (or possibly the videogames business) isn’t really Baker’s aim…there’s more to come and The Antipodes gets increasingly confusing as a result.

The target is myths, the origin of storytelling, which takes us into dark territory. There’s much discussion of monsters and voids, but to what aim? Possibly Baker directing her own work, with the aid of Chloe Lamford, is too close to the project? The journey to explore all these themes is poorly handled, the results unconvincing. Take the forest fires that trap the protagonists at work – a too obvious attempt to create an apocalyptic air. As the writers continue failing in their aim to come up with new ideas – which in itself isn’t very interesting to watch – what’s going on becomes more bizarre. A scene performed by Bill Milner is the focal point here, but defies explication. It’s fine to abandon narrative structure (Milner’s character’s actions aren’t part of any plot) but expanding their thematic fit would be helpful. The tension Baker and Lamford create becomes both uncomfortable and uncanny. Top marks for atmosphere. But what the whole exercise is for becomes a puzzle.

Until 23 November 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2019

"Vassa" at the Almeida Theatre

Mike Bartlett’s adaptation of Maxim Gorky’s 1910 play is a suitably irreverent and darkly funny version of a text with revolution at its heart. About capitalism as much as feminism, it provides a magnificent title role for Siobhán Redmond and a range of grotesque characters for a strong supporting cast to have fun with. Both Bartlett and director Tinuke Craig have a keen eye on entertaining their audience and, although the show is uneven, the production has enough humour to make it a success.

Vassa is as much a mogul as a matriarch. As her husband lies dying upstairs, her concern is to secure the family business by fiddling his will. She has to tackle her useless sons and mendacious brother-in-law, who each want their inheritance, along with their various romances, all of which are problematic. Herding these cats is done with a vicious tongue and a ruthlessness that beggars belief. Every acid line and heartless act is delivered to perfection by Redmond, who makes a brilliant villain.

Since it was revived this summer, you might think of Githa Sowerby’s Rutherford and Son as an English equivalent to Vassa: close in date, with another tyrannical capitalist and questioning economics. But Gorky, via Bartlett, has a more satirical edge that shows venality in many forms. Yet there’s a fussy feeling to the direction that detracts from how forceful the adaptation is. It’s interesting to see Craig play with elements of farce – notably with Fly Davis’ set full of doors – but unfortunately the comings and goings in this conspiratorial household aren’t that well-handled. Bouquets of flowers that cover the floor for the finale are another example: the idea might delight a florist but the blooms become bothersome.

It isn’t quite accurate to say Vassa only cares about money – her legacy plays a part, too. Any case for her as an arch pragmatist is weakened by this (for the better) while abuses of power for its own sake bubble underneath the text. The results allow a depth to her character that might surprise and that Redmond excels with. The relationship with her daughter, played exquisitely by Amber James, proves fascinating. Likewise her affection for her daughter-in-law Dunya, played by Daniella Isaacs, is developed well. More unhappily, the fate of her maid Lipa, superbly performed by Alexandra Dowling, brings home how high the stakes are.

It’s the men in the piece that let the production down. This isn’t quite Bartlett’s fault, or the performers’ – Vassa dominates the play so much that, when she’s off stage, interest plummets. As her sons, Arthur Hughes and Danny Kirrane have characters a touch too hysterical to deal with. And as Vassa’s potential nemesis, Michael Gould’s Prokhor just isn’t enough of a threat. Thankfully, with a lot of judiciously placed swearing, the text is fresh as well as funny. And the attention to detail is great. There’s a brilliant line about an off-stage character, described as “so drunk he fell over his own arm”. Touches like that aren’t just funny – they convey Vassa’s world so vividly that visiting it proves engrossing.

Until 23 November 2019

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

2019

“Solaris” at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre

Reading Stanisław Lem’s science-fiction classic as preparation for this theatre trip, the book struck me as full of brilliant ideas but impossible to stage. The titular planet is as much the subject of the novel as the scientists who investigate it. Lem’s description of a global organism that (somehow) thinks, and creates giant structures from its ocean waters, has to be left to our imaginations. Adapter David Greig’s clever move is to refocus the book towards the emotional drama (incidentally, not Lem’s forte) that arises when the investigators make contact with this alien life-form.

Jade Ogugua, Polly Frame, Keegan Joyce and Fode Simbo in "Solaris"
Jade Ogugua, Polly Frame, Keegan Joyce and Fode Simbo

What goes on has plenty of dramatic potential. The scientists have “visitors”, recreations from their memories, who are loved ones long dead: the lead, Kris, is united with an old flame, Ray, while her colleagues are haunted by their mother and daughter. Greig fills out Lem’s scenario nicely but the structure he opts for feels too cinematic – Solaris has been filmed twice – and director Matthew Lutton embraces just that with too much vigour. It’s technically impressive, and Paul Jackson’s lighting design is excellent, but it isn’t just a question of taste that makes me question this filmic quality. Compare the frequent short scenes, which at first provide drama but become tiresome, with that of a drinks party for Ray (pictured above) – a fantastic addition, given time to develop, and far better suited to the stage.

Kris is the narrator in the novel, which leads to a major role performed by Polly Frame. But opening out the story means that Greig does not give her quite enough to work with. Frame shows terror and joy well but there’s little in between and she fails as any kind of sceptic. Jade Ogugua and Fode Simbo play her colleagues: as deep thinkers, the characters bring out Lem’s ideas, but the performances fail to create an emotional resonance. Kris’s visitor Rey has a much meatier role that Keegan Joyce tackles with gusto. The strange state of his almost-human character becomes as moving as it is fascinating. The best performance comes on film as Hugo Weaving establishes his character’s excitement at the scientific discovery being made.

Hugo Weaver and Polly Frame in "Solaris"
Hugo Weaver and Polly Frame

Designer Hyemi Shin keeps the novel’s 1960s sci-fi aesthetic. It’s appealing enough, although all that video tape might puzzle younger audience members, and enforces the production’s stylish appeal. But the show doesn’t engage with science quite enough. No matter how rattled by events, the characters on stage aren’t given the chance to convince us that they’re professionals. One key scene has liquid oxygen kept at the kitchen sink. I’m not sure who, apart from Heston Blumenthal, would risk that.

More seriously, the production unravels towards the end. Like the scientists who study Solaris, the book’s cult following attracts interpretations. It’s all part of the fun and Greig’s input comes with ecological fears and a touch of the Pre-Socratic Thales that highlights the theme of water. Both are interesting enough but arrive too late in the show for satisfactory exploration. The ideas form part of a truncated finale that ignores the adaptation’s strength – its emotional impact. Despite some rich investment from its whole creative team, the abbreviated conclusion means this Solaris ends up as short-change sci-fi.

Until 2 November 2019

lyric.co.uk

Photo by Mihaela Bodlovic

2019

"Last Orders" at the Old Red Lion

This show starts with a good old-fashioned ghost story. It’s a monologue, impeccably delivered by Reece Connolly, about a meeting with the supernatural that fits nicely into the genre’s venerable traditions. I could listen to this kind of quality story-telling all night. But although there is a similar scene later, where the past is dramatised for us, this project expands the theme of encounters in a different direction by showing experiments into the paranormal by new company The Knock Knock Club. The mix might make for a show more hotchpotch than haunting, but Last Orders is great entertainment.

The experimentation is literal – the company spent an after-hours night in the Old Red Lion pub with a ghost hunter, visiting the theatre we sit in (known for props mysteriously disappearing), the bar (where furniture has apparently moved of its own accord) and cellar (once used as a morgue). Their findings are presented in an appealing, open fashion with nice theatrical flair – never underestimate how effective candles and torches can be. Or billiard balls. Caroline Buckley and Christopher Keegan complete the trio and build up a great rapport with the audience.

As a thorough unbeliever, I wasn’t convinced by what unfolded but I made sure to take along a friend who’s more credulous, (sorry, open-minded). He’s even been to a séance. I giggled and he gasped, so there’s something to please everyone. More prosaically, the company could have spent more time explaining their Ghost Hunter’s equipment, would benefit from better presentation of photographs and could detail their evening more (including theories that debunk ghosts). The material is too good for just 70 minutes and the atmosphere too convivial to end so quickly.

If the docu-theatre angle is a little thin, a good night out is the bigger aim. The comedy here is super. From an effort to interview Rolo, the pub dog, to Connolly tackling his fear of the Ouija board – willing to sacrifice himself for fringe theatre, Knock Knock’s crew don’t take themselves too seriously and the result is a lot of laughs. Basing the show at a much-loved venue is sure to pique interest and the company is wise to give us a rundown of historical drinkers and lots of great stories. Of course, there are no ghosts, let alone the crowd of spectres expected. The brilliant line, “We’re going to need a bigger planchette”, proves unfounded. But it is a great line! Last Orders may be more funny than frightening, but it’s the best closing time in a pub I’ve ever been to.

Until 26 October 2019

www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk

2019

“[Blank]” at the Donmar Warehouse

This collection of 100 scenes, with the instruction that they can be selected at will and performed in any order, is “a challenge and an invitation” to theatre companies. It’s a startling idea that makes for a big book and shows playwright Alice Birch’s prodigious ability. It is also a suitable celebration of co-producer Clean Break Theatre’s 40 years of working alongside women involved with the criminal justice system. The treatment for the many situations they must have encountered is, by turns, heart-wrenching and thought-provoking. So what has this production, directed by Maria Aberg, created in response?

First, some brilliant performances. From names this theatregoer loves – such as Jackie Clune, Jemima Rooper, Zainab Hasan and Thusitha Jayasundera – to performers I’ve not had the privilege of seeing before, the acting is stunning. Tackling characters who all have a connection to crime, from the most serious to unnamed incidents, undoubtedly makes the show grim. But what’s important is how far-reaching and detailed repercussions are shown to be. Highlighting the children and relatives affected, as well as the women convicted, makes every character encountered a figure to be accounted for. As the 16-strong team moves from role to role, in scenes that are often very short, their achievements are breath-taking.

Much of [Blank]’s power come from its variety. Thirty scenes are delivered here, so we get to see many different women and hear multiple stories, from foster care, including one from the many scenes written for children (the young performers are fantastic), to an adult reunited with a mother freed from prison (providing stand-out moments for Kate O’Flynn and Lucy Edkins).

Shona Babayemi and Jemima Rooper in BLANK
Shona Babayemi and Jemima Rooper

Remember, teasing themes or coherence out of the texts is a choice Birch offers. Part of her point is to challenge conventional narratives about women ‘like this’. Aberg’s response is a light one; a couple of scenes share characters, but this feels like a coincidence. Rosie Elnile’s design and projections of the performers bind the play visually (although I am agnostic about the need for them). And there’s a nod to our specific location in the boldest scene that roots us in Covent Garden with the Donmar’s particular clientele: in a dinner party that turns into a disaster, Birch shows ruthless skills as a satirist and Shona Babayemi gives an unforgettable performance.

Aberg is wise to have faith in Birch’s short sketches – they are packed with emotion and drama. It can be frustrating to leave the action so quickly, and dizzying to think of how many scenes could be developed into full plays. That’s not the aim, and the writing is too precise for it to be the case – each scene stands fully formed. Rather, being overwhelmed by this breadth of – frankly awful – experience is a statement. This feels like a whole other kind of theatre. The play could be mounted anywhere, with any cast, making it a real treasure – full of possibilities and lives that we don’t normally see. While these women maybe invisible to some, [Blank] goes some way to filling that void.

Until 30 November 2019

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Helen Maybanks