Straight To The Heart Of Troubled Faith

Sydney Morning Herald

Monday March 20, 2006

Bryce Hallett; Harriet Cunningham

THEATRE

A Hard God

Sydney Theatre Company

Wharf 1, March 16

Reviewed by Bryce Hallett

WHEN the audience catches up with the Cassidy clan in Peter Kenna's domestic hearth, they are clinging to austere comfort, trying to fathom life's cruel twists and crumbling at the seams.

But the illnesses, marital ructions and attempts to make sense of an apparently vengeful God are all part of the Irish-Catholic family's daily toil and counting of tiny blessings. Their need for communion comes in the wake of greater struggles and tests.

The Depression of the '30s and World War II have taken a toll and cast a sorrowful shadow over Kenna's souls as they quarrel, slumber or revel in blarney. It is 1946, a time of peace and rebuilding, and for Dan Cassidy (Max Gillies) a moment to weigh up spiritual values and express nagging doubts.

But it's the no-nonsense Aggie (Jacki Weaver) who Kenna places at the centre of the bunkered and blinkered Irish Catholic tribe. Her spirit of soldiering on and not looking too deep permeates the 1973 play. By no means perfect, A Hard God is well-drawn, gently humorous and poignant in places. It doesn't have the impact it presumably once had but its exploration of God-fearing, weary battlers and open-hearted young adventurers on the edge of the same abyss is sensitive and soul-searching.

Kenna's depiction of the close friendship between the larking, athletic, guilt-ridden Jack Shannon (David Lyons) and the introspective dreamer Joe Cassidy (Ben Mathews) is not dissimilar to the pendulum of happiness and supposed wrongdoing that swings through the open spaces of Brokeback Mountain. Lyons and Mathews are terrific as the scuffling adolescents who struggle with confused emotions and the omens of "a hard god" watching over and ready to pounce.

Cleverly designed by Jennie Tate and imaginatively lit by Damien Cooper, Denis Moore's production is solid, spare and smoothly meets the structural demands of a play that mostly separates the stories of the old and young while awkwardly striving to bind them. The second act gets a huge lift the moment Kerry Walker's monotonous and meddling evangelist arrives on the scene clutching a crucifix, ready to burn another bridge.

Walker is staggeringly good, an actor who has perfected the art of conveying much by seeming to do little. Some actors say they discover a character in their shoes and gait; with Walker, it's very much in the voice and eyes.

Weaver's performance as Aggie is a fine achievement, an earthily drawn portrait of a vainless comforter and protector who dotes on her ailing husband, Dan, yet whose spiritual faith remains untested. Her troubled son Joe's future is equally unsure.

Gillies delivers an understated, skilfully nuanced portrayal as Aggie's diplomatic anchor while Ralph Cotterill and Maeliosa Stafford contribute fine brotherly portraits, one moment testily feuding, the next joined in a crumpled, apologetic heap.

The joy of this production comes from watching fine, seasoned actors effortlessly inhabiting the lives of meek, gossiping, searching, faltering creatures. They attempt to reconcile their fate and faith as the "disease" of time marches on. It's a strong staging but it is not as inventive as it could be.

MUSIC

Australian String Quartet

City Recital Hall, March 17

Reviewed by Harriet Cunningham

IT WAS tempting to listen out for signs of tension in the Australian String Quartet's first concert for the year. Only last month it was announced that the current members of the ensemble are to be replaced at the end of the year by the Tankstream Quartet, which has been winning prizes and accolades across Europe in the past six months.

Furthermore, regular cellist Niall Brown is on sick leave. But any concerns were dismissed by the opening work, Schubert's Quartettsatz in C Minor, in a lovingly crafted performance.

The replacement cellist, Janis Laurs, who was a founding member of the quartet in 1985, served as an excellent grounding force.

Shostakovich's String Quartet No. 8 is a monument to the brutality of war, a raw and intensely personal outpouring of grief and rage. First violin Natsuko Yoshimoto was the hero here. She dug deep, driving out the melancholic fugue theme in the lower registers, and bringing a brittle shine to the feverish excitement of the second movement. She was well supported by the lower strings and the focused, driven music-making made it impossible to doubt their commitment.

The two pieces which preceded the Eighth Quartet were more ambivalent in mood. The polka was a particularly tricksy mixture of nasty and nice: the players put aside their quest for perfection in favour of more characterful playing, laden with irony.

Beethoven's String Quartet no 12 in E flat, opus 127 was a dramatic change in gear from Shostakovich's heart-on-sleeve immediacy - the eighth quartet was written in just three days - to a deeply lyrical work conceived over a period of eight months.

Yoshimoto comments that this work is one she and second violinist James Cuddeford have been working on since their college days. It shows. The infinite melodies flowed out, seamless, evolving through the massive second movement. Signs of fatigue crept in in the intonation in the final two movements, with the scherzo in particular lacking energy. But if the performance was not an out-and-out success, it was certainly a noble failure.

© 2006 Sydney Morning Herald

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