Theatre review: An air of giddiness for Alter by Kamchàtka at Cork Midsummer Festival
There was an air of giddiness on board the bus for Alter by Kamchàtka
★★★★☆
Coach tours were a welcome relief from the classroom for most Irish people in their schooldays. So there was inevitably an air of giddiness on board the bus arranged for those attending the Barcelona-based theatre company Kamchàtka‘s outdoor performance of Alter at Cork Midsummer Festival. The excitement was heightened by the lateness of the hour; we departed from Lapps Quay at 10pm.
Where were we bound? East Cork, apparently. The last signpost read Watergrasshill, and then we were winding down boreens into a forest. The deeper we went, the more menacing it appeared. By the time we disembarked, we could have been any place.
We were met by a lone woman with a suitcase. Not a thing was said as she supplied us with lamps before leading us deeper again into the woods. After some time, we came upon a man buried up to his chest in the earth (much like Winnie in Samuel Beckett’s ), watching a black-and-white film projected onto the lid of his suitcase. We helped him out, though he seemed loath to escape his predicament.
The unstoppable @ciakamchatka this afternoon as they caused mischief on the streets of Cork city before making their exit on the 220 @Buseireann. pic.twitter.com/iSIMXYTFJT
— Cork Midsummer Festival (@CorkMidsummer) June 16, 2024
Further on again, we laid sacks on the ground, and watched as a hoard of hot, salted potatoes was dug out of the earth and passed around to be eaten. A beverage was soon passed around as well, while tunes were played on a wind-up music box, and films were projected on a blanket. As long as that interlude lasted, it almost felt as if we’d bonded, albeit wordlessly.
Soon we were on the move again. Arriving at a clearing, we were joined by other individuals with suitcases, with their own groups of attendees. Lights were strung above us, music played, and only a curmudgeon with beat deafness would not have joined in with the throng that danced - or stomped - about the clearing.
When it ended, films were again projected onto screens, and the silent figures – unnamed and seemingly unknowable – stole away with their suitcases into the darkness among the trees.
Who were they? Migrants? Or ghosts?
The Kamchàtka company‘s achievement was to leave us pondering such universal - and timeless - topics as displacement and loss, even as we picked our own way back to the comfort of the buses.
- Further information: corkmidsummer.com
