Review: Me Looking at Her Looking at Me, Camden People’s Theatre

Review: Me Looking at Her Looking at Me, Camden People’s Theatre

Me Looking at Her Looking at Me (or MLAHLAM as it can now be named) has brush strokes of wonderful artwork and efficiency artwork, specks of naturalism, sprays of projection, and a few litres of paint. Now, having labored as a life/portrait mannequin for years myself, this topic is one I do know slightly about: the connection between artist and muse. It’s an ungainly, and traditionally problematic one. Mentioned in a short time by MLAHLAM is the well-known incident of 19-year-old Elizabeth Siddall virtually getting hypothermia because the candles warming her bathtub went out in winter, whereas John Everett Millais was so engrossed in his portray “Ophelia”. 

Although the times of laudanum-addicted youngsters and intercourse staff dominating the life mannequin trade are (primarily) over the powerplay between somebody keen to promote or give their picture, and an artist consuming it’s, as ever, a fancy one: one thing this work captures fairly realistically. 

Artist, performed by Eden Peppercorn, and Model performed by Claire Eyestone dance this tango of energy. Where this piece shines is in its reliance on projection and inventive eye. A easy handheld video digital camera initiatives Peppercorn’s intent face as they paint the tumbling tresses of Eyestone. Devian Maside León is within the nook of the white-washed basement manning all of the tech and doing a slap-up job. Blue, then pink washes craft cinematic depth because the actors make the stunted small speak of a portrait session, or dive into deep discussions on notion. 

Eyestone’s pre-Raphaelite curls and total aesthetic, together with numerous nods to the historical past of artwork all through, are good touchstones. Pomegranates (which means resurrection and life eternal in Christian artwork) are devoured, paint is splattered, questions are written and superimposed on the white sheet, and loud punky tunes are blasted into the claustrophobic house. This story of friendship, obsession, want, and possession disintegrates across the heads of our characters, with predictably bleak penalties.

Less profitable moments come from sections of useless house, the place little is going on and never a lot is conveyed. Long intervals of placing up the set/props (quarter-hour) – which absolutely might have been finished earlier than the viewers’s entrance – fairly dilute the proceedings. Despite experimental sequences, the principle physique of the present may be very static, as we watch Peppercorn paint and Eyestone snack. The well-written dialogue does distract from the theatrical doldrum however not sufficient. Again, breakdown moments of efficiency descend to the ground, however with the dearth of raked seating everybody aside from the entrance row is caught imagining what the grunts and shuffles from the actors would possibly imply.

Although mutual however forbidden want is current all through, the long-awaited crescendo is extra like a slowly deflating balloon than a bang of motion. Late-in-the recreation shoehorning AI-created artwork feels rushed. Bright aesthetic eye, and spectacular visible technical talents apart, Bloodsucker Theatre must focus extra on what makes a bit attention-grabbing for an viewers, however hold the artworld sensitivity that they have already got by the bucket load.

Devised by: Eden Peppercorn, Claire Eyestone and Devian Maside León (Bloodsucker Theatre)
Produced by: The Royal Central School of Speech & Drama and Bloodsucker Theatre

Me Looking at Her Looking at Me has accomplished its present run.