We’re given the heads up from playwright and actor Daniel York Loh from the outset. This is not to be a linear production, and Loh concedes that what follows is complicated, but that we should nevertheless bear with him and fellow performers Melody Chikakane Brown and Aruhan Galieva as the hour and 50 minute production gets underway. Drawing upon the philosophical Chinese concept of Dao (concerning ‘ways’, ‘paths’ and ‘roads’), this semi-autobiographical piece of gig theatre is creatively kaleidoscopic in presentation, but ultimately confusing and minimalistic in its messaging.
In Kendell Foster’s video design, idyllic environments blend, blur and glitch as backdrops to the dialogue. A solitary slide in a bright green field is the setting for playground racism, expanding to become a broader commentary on the perceived ‘aggression’ from white people of Chinese people. The deep degradation of the self this causes is exhibited in a later anecdote about Chinatown, where such erasing of the self has made the narrator(s) invisible in their own cultural hub.
When the underlying motif of the butterfly is taken into account, there is the question of exactly how much wider society clips its wings, though its most direct and unambiguous commentary, ironic enough, comes from a character called Master Obscure, who remarks on the depravation of autonomy and voice at the very end of the play – a profound observation hurriedly squeezed in to satisfy those after the solitary takeaway from the production.
And to be clear, I commend the play for wishing to push theatrical boundaries, not least given its relevance to the theme of Daoism, but there’s limits. Closing act one on a bizarre number about teeth certainly is a choice (all numbers are composed by An-Ting 安婷, by the way), and off-beat instrumentals is suitably provocative, but many of these tracks are delivered in a performance style which – I’m afraid to say – can only be described as wince-inducing wailing. I have to refer to the playtext to grasp the lyrics while listening, but the lyrical, ethereal nature of both mediums means I can’t divide my attention between the two.
It’s certainly one of those more abstract shows where audience members are invited to draw their own conclusions from a smattering of scenes as opposed to a unifying narrative. If you can forgo the comfortable and reassuring familiarity of a linear plot – I, often, cannot – then you’re likely able to gain more from the show without the cognitive distraction of constantly searching for a wider meaning, a process I also suspect comes a lot more easily for ESEA audience members represented on stage.
There’s definitely ambition and enthusiasm here in the company – not least exhibited in excited, knowing glances from Galieva to other members during numbers – which maintains some genuine intrigue beyond trying to find an overarching idea, but a bold rejection of theatrical norms (a “dramaturgical rupture”, as they call it) will only go so far for some.
★★
The Dao of Unrepresentative British Chinese Experience is now playing at the Soho Theatre until 13 July.
The show will be audio described, captioned and British Sign Language (BSL) interpreted on 3, 10 and 11 July respectively.
Production Images: Soho Theatre.
Disclaimer: I was invited to watch ‘The Dao of Unrepresentative British Chinese Experience’ for free in exchange for a review of the performance as a member of the press. I did not receive payment for this article and all opinions stated above are honest and my own.
Liam O'Dell
Think Outside the Box…