"Orest en moi", a guest performrance of Studio de Trois Yeux shown at Munich´s i-camp on July 13th and 14th, begins with six men lying on the floor of the i-camp, and one standing, facing the audience. As the bodies on the floor begin to utter phrases in their different tongues, the standing, trembling figure begins to inch forward towards the audience.

This figure is the blind actor Nico Berth, who has a haunting, unsettling presence throughout the piece, filling at times the role of narrator; at other times the bystander of events. The others (director Lambert Mousseka, stage designer Leonard Wanner as well as Eddy Ekete, Yannick Luzuaki, Christian Botale, Androa Mindre Kolo) writhe and start to rise beneath him as he gives an impassioned speech.

The unbridled force of seven men on stage is one of the key aspects of this performance. Through rhythmic stomping, singing, physical theatre, mask and ensemble work, they endeavour to relate the ancient myth of the Orestes tragedy to the present-day crisis in the Congo. Although the parallels between these two stories often remain unresolved, the overall force and energy of the work is unsurpassable.
Several images linger in the mind long after the piece is over. A blind man physically manipulating six ‘seeing’ men, feeling in the darkness for their heads, in order to lay them down onto the floor is one. With a bang, six heavy bags falling from the ceiling, into the tiny space on the floor the men are not occupying is another. They blindly feel around for their bags, each taking one upon his shoulder. Later on, each man will perform a solo – either by singing, dancing, or stomping – and ignite a paper fire into his hand.

The singing, rhythm and ensemble work is very strong throughout. You could say, though, that this is a very ‘masculine’ production, involving a lot of heavy footwork, stamping, banging, flashes of light, objects and bodies crashing onto the floor, fire games. It seems at times very primal, tribal, and earthy. Often the traditional boundaries of the stage are broken – as one actor paints his face to represent a certain character, only to promptly remove this paint again – on the main stage, before the audience. No going backstage, no hiding in the curtains – it all feels very immediate.

As a whole, the piece is powerful, visually and rhythmically arresting, but at times could use a little subtlety. For me, the most touching moment came towards the very end, when the blind narrator spoke his last words and was taken care of by his cast-member. As he was speaking, and walking in the wrong direction, a hand reached out and gently guided him. Though it was brief and unintentional, for me as an audience member this was the most touching moment of the play.

The audience received the piece warmly, with a stomping ovation.

Elina Akhmetova