"Til' The End Of The World, We'll Meet In No Man's Land" Review: The universal conundrum of climate change
Inch Chua brought the Antarctica to TheatreWorks' 72-13. Directed by Okorn-Huo Jing Hong, Til' The End Of The World, We'll Meet In No Man's Land uses a mixture of actual recordings from her time in the Antarctica and soundscapes created and looped on the spot with everyday objects in Foley-style. Her experiences were shared viscerally through the binaural headphones - where the left and right pick up different sounds - audiences have to wear.
The intimate performance, breathed to life before the audience, thrusts the conversation of climate change into the spotlight. In the No-Man's-Land, most commonly associated with climate change as the backdrop, Inch pits herself against the elusive social and global issue. In her more contemplative moments, we hear the awe as she takes in the sights of Antarctica. But the guilt is stifling, as the pungent diesel whiffs through the theatre, Inch shares her regrets and self-awareness of how she had been complicit in encroaching onto uncharted nature. Antarctica, she shares, is protected by the Antarctica Treaty to be used exclusively for science but is littered with flags from many nations attempting to stake claim. In a scene where Inch is confronted on "what does the artist think", the helplessness resonates deeply.
Til' The End Of The World, We'll Meet In No Man's Land proves hard to put a label on. At times, with the inter-cutting of recreated and verbatim conversations and moments enacted by Inch, it feels like a radio play. At its most climatic, with a frustrated Inch belting out her anger at the world, her standing atop blocks and the lights surround her with such intensity, it feels like a rock concert. Part-ethnographic, part-biographical and part-artistic-response, the multi-sensory piece does well to highlight the many nuances of climate change, especially in terms of the helpless of an individual in face of a looming global crisis.
Some might argue it is hypocritical to expand such resources to make a point about climate change. But the team's thought processes were only shared in the post-show dialogue I had the privilege of sitting in on. The wooden sets (designed by Dennis Cheok) were made from cheap recycled wood from TheatreWorks' old sets; the giant beanbag was borrowed from the company's office. The pouches donned by Inch was made from recycled plastic-leather designed by theKANG. Inch also shared about seeking greener energy sources to offset the extensive carbon print the production elements used.
Altogether, the production elements at Theatreworks drove the intimate soundscapes by Inch to a greater level, enthralling the audience into the universal conundrum of climate change. Given the thoughts put into this experimental piece, one wonders just how much of the magic the audience will keep, wield or pass on when the headphones are off.
The intimate performance, breathed to life before the audience, thrusts the conversation of climate change into the spotlight. In the No-Man's-Land, most commonly associated with climate change as the backdrop, Inch pits herself against the elusive social and global issue. In her more contemplative moments, we hear the awe as she takes in the sights of Antarctica. But the guilt is stifling, as the pungent diesel whiffs through the theatre, Inch shares her regrets and self-awareness of how she had been complicit in encroaching onto uncharted nature. Antarctica, she shares, is protected by the Antarctica Treaty to be used exclusively for science but is littered with flags from many nations attempting to stake claim. In a scene where Inch is confronted on "what does the artist think", the helplessness resonates deeply.
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| Picture by: Crispi Photography. Retrieved from TheatreWorks Facebook |
Til' The End Of The World, We'll Meet In No Man's Land proves hard to put a label on. At times, with the inter-cutting of recreated and verbatim conversations and moments enacted by Inch, it feels like a radio play. At its most climatic, with a frustrated Inch belting out her anger at the world, her standing atop blocks and the lights surround her with such intensity, it feels like a rock concert. Part-ethnographic, part-biographical and part-artistic-response, the multi-sensory piece does well to highlight the many nuances of climate change, especially in terms of the helpless of an individual in face of a looming global crisis.
Some might argue it is hypocritical to expand such resources to make a point about climate change. But the team's thought processes were only shared in the post-show dialogue I had the privilege of sitting in on. The wooden sets (designed by Dennis Cheok) were made from cheap recycled wood from TheatreWorks' old sets; the giant beanbag was borrowed from the company's office. The pouches donned by Inch was made from recycled plastic-leather designed by theKANG. Inch also shared about seeking greener energy sources to offset the extensive carbon print the production elements used.
Altogether, the production elements at Theatreworks drove the intimate soundscapes by Inch to a greater level, enthralling the audience into the universal conundrum of climate change. Given the thoughts put into this experimental piece, one wonders just how much of the magic the audience will keep, wield or pass on when the headphones are off.