| Eclipse |
| Words: Will Abberley | |
| Saturday, 25 August 2007 | |
|
Edinburgh Fringe Festival
Performer Adam Reade shape-shifts through a menagerie of creatures: one moment, a limpet sticking to the wall, the next, a monkey swinging from rope to rope. His mimicry reflects the double-edged nature of consciousness – man thinks of himself as possessing a body, yet at the same time he is a body. At times, Reade seems puppet-master of the show, turning lumps of wood into imaginary weapons and musical instruments. Stripped bare, he contorts his body with clinical efficiency like an anatomist dissecting himself. Yet, moments later, he is writhing and screeching on the floor, at the mercy of his instincts as smoke and darkness engulf him. Pulse-like rhythms creep into the corners of our ears, suggesting a tribal atavism in Reade’s movements, tracing music to the mechanisms of our bodies. Then, just when something like a purpose seems to be emerging, the CD skips to punk rock classic Blitzkreig Bop by The Ramones. Is Reade taking the piss? It may sound that way on paper, but in performance the change seems weirdly logical, even witty, linking modern chart-toppers with the circulatory rhythms that make them meaningful to us. Don’t expect fripperies like words, characters or a plot. Our mute storyteller hurls himself around the stage in a thong, before scrambling up to the rafters and sprinkling petals over the audience. Shades of Beckett colour his routines, repeating the same mistakes, forgetting to remember and remembering to forget. The show drifts, occasionally, into self-indulgence, but it’s Reade’s willingness to take risks that makes Eclipse so gripping. His lizard-like frame twitches with nervous energy, chiselled by years of training into a kind of living sculpture. Eclipse may not suit every taste, but you cannot question Reade’s dedication to his art, or the originality of what he has created. This is what the Fringe was made for. Eclipse @ C soco 3rd-27th Aug |
