Square Peg

Paradise in Augustines (Venue 152) until tomorrow

The gowns which hang on tailor’s dummies surrounding Simeon Morris onstage are as much a part of his persona as the man we come to know in this autobiographical story rich with life experience. At one point Morris says he feels he doesn’t make these sheer and impractical pieces to be worn in any normal context: “I make dresses which make women look f***ing beautiful.”

Yet when female friends admire his creations and ask if they can buy any from him, he doesn’t want to part with them. He feels as though that would be giving away the feminine side of his personality, and he doesn’t want to do that – or at least, he only wants to do it for someone he loves. Through his gentle, contemplative presentation and stage presence, this dance continues throughout; between the masculine and feminine, the beautiful and the ugly, the adored and the unlovable.

Originally a leatherworker, who makes and sells designer accessories in his home city of Norwich, Morris is a recent acting graduate, and he brings the two strands of his professional life together here. He works at the sewing machine onstage, and demonstrates the simplicity of the bias-cut skirt and dress created by fashion designer Janice Wainwright, who he knew and worked with. The tenderness and delicacy of these passages is captivating.

Then he takes us through his difficult relationship with his father, relationship break-ups, and one dismal tale of sex with a woman who just wanted to find drugs. The words of Shakespeare and Thomas Hardy break his reverie, and eventually just the simple song of a blackbird, which he and the audience listen to in meditative silence.

It’s a frank and involving piece, one which surely presents a more nuanced look at the contradictions of masculinity than almost any other on this year’s Fringe.

DAVID POLLOCK