Powerful storytelling

A Boy Called Piano, the Conch Theatre Company, directed by Nina Nawalowalo and Jim Moriarty; BATS Theatre, Nov 22-Nov 30. Reviewed by Sonya Stewart.

It’s Auckland, 1963. In a van on their way to the Owairaka Boys home, Wheels (Allan Henry), Piwi (Aaron McGregor) and a boy called Piano ( Matthias Luafutu) get to know each other.

These 11-year-old Ma¯ori and Samoan boys are newly made wards of the state and have a cheeky cheerfulness despite the situation they are in.

Testimony to the royal commission of inquiry about their experiences is scattered throughout the boys’ story, and the difference between these young, unbroken boys and their adult counterparts is palpable. The stage is simple, three panels of cloth that are screens for the projected images of places and loved ones. At one point they are used as bed sheets to great effect.

To the side is a baby grand piano, where an immensely talented Mark Vanilau sings and plays throughout the show. He adds another dimension to the piece and at times I’m surprised to realise there has been music underscoring a scene, it feels so organic.

Luafutu, Henry and McGregor flow on the stage, with skilled transitions between characters, one moment a distraught 11-year-old boy, the next a brusque guard. Their physicality and heart is incredibly powerful and they draw out laughter and tears in turns.

Through the isolation, punishments and abuse, the boys’ spirits endure. Nicking the teachers’ smokes. Standing up for each other and making their escape.

There was a scene involving the tearing of paper where I was a little lost as to what was going on, but that was the only blip. It’s in another, heartbreaking scene when Piano reaches his limit and what happens afterward is just as devastating.

This play is a reminder how powerful theatre is as a form of storytelling. It imparts a much stronger, visceral feeling than reading an article or browsing a post.

This isn’t just a story about what happened in the past. In sharing his experience of being parented by the government, Fa’amoana John Luafutu (whose experiences this is based on) with the skilled Tom MCrory have written a play that brings love and gives a voice to the voiceless.

Building on The Conch’s excellent production of The White Guitar, under Nina Nawalowalo and Jim Moriarty’s direction this is a very worthy follow-up.