Bread rises beyond high expectations
THEATRE Review: David Zampatti
Not by Bread Alone
5 stars
Nalaga’at Deaf-Blind Ensemble
Regal Theatre
Not by Bread Alone is a production so unusual in both content and purpose that it resists the function of a critic.
It alters the usual shape and direction of the transaction between the performer and the audience in a way that defies judgment.
Itshak Hanina is the only actor in the ensemble of 11 from Israel's Nalaga'at Deaf-Blind Ensemble who was born blind, not deaf - though he lost his hearing from meningitis when he was 11. The rest of the cast have Usher syndrome, whose victims are born deaf and lose their sight as children. While some have traces of sight or hearing, effectively they are all deaf and blind.
Hanina speaks the fundamental line of the performance. When he says, "Welcome to our lives, to our darkness, to our silence," the horror of loneliness, of frustration and grief he conjures up is overwhelming. Imagining what his dark, silent world must be like is impossible, like imagining death.
But, as Not by Bread Alone convincingly shows, that is far from the truth. Rather, the truth lies in the start of Hanina's welcome, because these people do have lives, and dreams and ambitions (some also have seeing, hearing children), and they have the courage - and this production has the skill - to invite us in to share them.
That's why the image and the device of making and breaking bread are so appropriate. The title, with superb evocation, is from Matthew's Gospel: "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God."
The performance proper lasts as long as it takes to prepare and bake small loaves. Once they are ready, the audience is invited on to the stage to talk and eat with the cast.
The shared experience, the communion, implicit in eating together, is powerful. The other senses, those shared by the performers and the audience - the smell of the fresh baking, the touch of the warm crust and soft bread, are alive.
It needs to be understood that the performances themselves are not particularly notable. Evgenia Shtesky plays a pleasant tune on a keyboard but she is no Rachmaninov. Igor Osherov and Mark Yaroski ham it up with vim and vigour but they are no Laurel and Hardy. There's a little basic stiltwalking, some umbrella twirling, a wedding dance, but nothing with any real wow factor.
And that, of course, is the point.
This is not a circus, or a sideshow tent. These are ordinary, intelligent people overcoming an atrocious misfortune to invite us to share with them a moment of their lives.
Which is not to say that there isn't fine theatre craft here. The director, Adina Tal (who joined us for an insightful, and very funny, Q&A after the show), manages her stage and its people with enormous care and attention to detail.
The 10 young, black-clad translators who assist the performers with everything from tiny touches to ear-shattering drumbeats (the actors feel the vibration - we get the noise) are skilful, gentle and wise.
As is this remarkable, unique show.
