I Hear Voices by Contact Theatre, at Gulbenkian Theatre, University of Kent, 28/02/2008
Four performers: check. Bass turned up: check. Imaginary yeti: check. Now settle down for an evening of inaudible rap and uninteresting dialogue, in an unnervingly empty theatre. Contact Theatre have presented us with their latest from the world of `performance poetry`, I Hear Voices; an exploration into the voices inside our minds, whether belonging to our own alter-ego, drug-induced illusions, or that irritating Microsoft Word paperclip. There’s little cohesion in this piece, however, due to the lack of plot. We’re given tantalising snippets of characterisation and storyline, only for these moments to dissolve into rap `numbers`, rather like numbers in a musical. Except that musicals work because the music numbers further the emotion and action of the play, and here they do the opposite. We cannot understand the words because they’re muffled, and so cannot relate these numbers to the storyline. The raps and poetry moments seem isolated and random within the context we are presented with. The most striking problem with this performance is the place they chose to perform.
While the Gulbenkian Theatre on the University of Kent’s campus may have perfect acoustics and provide a very workable space, it is the theatre’s situation in the country that makes for an unsuitable audience. The auditorium is holding well under a quarter of its full capacity, which begs the question, why? And the answer is simple: Canterbury is not home to the audience Contact Theatre make their work for, and their work is unlikely to appeal to this reasonably rural population. Their target audience is 16+ youths, with interest in urban music and activities, certainly not the audience I found myself in. Contact should be playing in more urban areas where they are more likely to get the audiences they aspire to, and perhaps considering their Legz Akimbo style they should be performing in inner-city schools. If however, they specifically want the older, more middle-class audience Canterbury provides, perhaps they should be focusing their performance on the poetry behind rap music, proving its merits to a less enthusiastic audience.
While all four performers demonstrated great ability in their specific areas, whether rap, spoken word or misplaced Grotowski-esque physicality, the sound effects providing beat-boxer proved the most impressive. It is certainly a shame that he was hidden away from us at the back, seated behind a most uninteresting desk covered in sound equipment. His diverse sound effects and wow-factor beat-boxing cast one hell of a shadow over the rap artists, leaving me wanting more of him and a lot less of them.
The lack of continuity and plot within I Hear Voices made for a rather boring evening’s entertainment; they would have been better off dispensing of all storylines and purely showcasing their talent, which was both impressive and admirable. A mish-mash of theatrical techniques regarding staging and performing meant that the mind had nothing constant to focus on, and the interspersing of rap put to too heavy bass lines had little purchase either. The talent of the understated beat-boxer was what the mind chose to focus on, and he certainly wasn’t unworthy; even those with very little knowledge or taste in urban music can’t deny his ability.
What had promised to be a lively and impressive performance was clouded by the voices in my head tempting me to daydream, and reminding me that thankfully the show is mercifully short.
