Stirring personal and nuanced tribute to mothers
I TURNED AWAY AND SHE WAS GONE. Written and performed by Jennie Reznek. Directed by Mark Fleishman. Design Craig Leo. Choreography Ina Wichterich. Original music by Neo Muyanga. At Magnet Theatre until March 14. TRACEY SAUNDERS reviews IF PSYCHOLOGY is to be believed, the primary bond between a daughter and her mother informs all her future adult relationships. Many parents will attest to the fleeting nature of childhood, how children disappear overnight and become adults way before one is ready. With these two strands Reznek ties the lives of a daughter and her mother and her own mother together in a piece that stirs the soul.
Reznek makes a welcome solo return to the stage after two decades. Her solo productions, Cheap Flights and The Show’s Not Over ‘til the Fat Lady Sings, amongst others, have played to critical acclaim, and while she has been no stranger to the stage in recent years ( Ever year, every day, I am walking and Autopsy) watching her claim the space in a solo performance is a the- atrical delight. She teams up with Mark Fleishman, the co-founder of Magnet Theatre to create this very personal tribute to mothers and daughters, her own and others.
To prevent the work from being an overly personal, mawkish piece, she has used the myth of Demeter and Persephone as the basis of the story.
In Greek mythology, Persephone, the daughter of Demeter and Zeus was taken into the underworld by Hades, the God of the underworld. The narrative follows the fable with the underworld open to many interpretations. There is something remarkably honest in Reznek’s exploration of motherhood, in the intimate portrayal of birth, death and the sticky bits in between. She holds the unbridled and boundless energy of a young girl tightly wound in every muscle of her body.
Later she unfurls languidly in to the sensuality of adolescence and consolidates the confidence of an adult woman with a beautiful and deliberate certainty. The beauty of the piece is how utterly believable Reznik is in each phase of a woman’s life. From the simple and unbearably fragile depiction of a child in the womb to the age tremors of an elderly woman, each nuance of life is shown in its splendour. Her transitions from coquettish girl to lithesome teenager to mature woman are flawless and her physical vocabulary expressing each age is astonishing. A tin bath holds centre place on the stage.
A favourite prop of South African theatremakers, the bath is the place of her awakening and the dark pool of the underworld to which she succumbs. In a moment which drew many laughs of recognition she collapses in to the bath as she recovers from her energetic dance session. Her observation about the recovery period required by one as one ages drew many a knowing nod. As an older woman, the crone of the piece she sparkles with mischievousness and an awareness of the often awkward place occupied by the elderly.
The frustration of grasping for the correct word from a vocabulary that is stolen away by old age or dementia provides a bitter sweet moment of humour.
The audience are more than wit- nesses to her performance. The layout of the stage ensures that one becomes complicit in the story, no mere spectator. The inclusion is further enhanced by her interaction with the audience including entreating their assistance in finding her “stolen” daughter.
In a broader commentary on society she bemoans the loss of young women to the brutality of a world where sexual violence has become so common place.
While the text is very personal she evokes a universal political responsibility for all daughters and is not afraid of calling out complacency in the face of the war on women.
Neo Muyanga’s original compositions are intrinsically woven through the piece and carry your heart at the moments when Reznek takes your breath away. The music is not incidental to the narrative, but very much part of it. Fleishman’s direction is taut while allowing a fluidity and freedom to the piece which takes full advantage of the actor’s physical theatre prowess.
I Turned Away and She Was Gone will leave you aching for those fleeting moments gone too soon, for memories of lives past and hours lost, your own and those of whom you love. Merrit Triece, in a recent review of After Birth, a novel about mothering by Elisa Albert said, “Just because so much of mothering happens inside a house doesn’t mean it’s not a war: a battle for sovereignty over your heart, your mind, your life — and one you can’t bear for the other side to lose.”
Reznek lays bare the inter-generational skirmishes with tenderness and intriguingly the battle with one’s aging self with a poignancy that is as honest as it is memorable.