Director and Writer: Vinicius Salles
You queue in an alleyway for access to The Living Room, the venue for The Shop for Mortals and Fools, a site-specific, immersive performance, in the hinterlands of Southeast London. An adventure from start to finish, including the journey, you stand patiently with the other visitors, and provided you are punctual (latecomers are not admitted), have time to contemplate the anti-theft spikes in the building you will soon enter. What treasures do they guard?
A woman with a thousand-yard stare and stern demeanour, dressed in 1930s plain shopkeeper’s clothes, opens the door to take the register. The lucky ten are ushered in – space is strictly limited – and visitors asked to leave their belongings in the antechamber before entering. For anyone who fantasised about stumbling upon an establishment like the one from Mr. Benn (1970s children’s animation) this might be as close as you’ll ever get.
Although there’s no dressing up involved, you will find yourself drawn into a parallel universe, an alternative reality. The shopkeeper isn’t a bald man with glasses but Agata, she of the register who exudes an odd presence and invites visitors to explore the ersatz selection of curated objects, trinkets, curios, and heirlooms. Some are available to handle, some displayed in cabinets.
As though addressing children at an Easter Egg hunt, the audience is informed a coin is hidden and there’s a prize for whoever finds it. This encourages interaction with the pieces and a chance to become familiar with the strange environment before being plunged into the unknown. It also dissuades a passive viewer stance, activates the imagination, and prompts questions. In this mix, are paintings and artworks from Anita Wadsworth, Alberto Pavan, Leah German and Daisy Young, all available to buy. But there are no price tags, that would be crass and jarring. It’s not that kind of a shop.
The mysterious room – or set – or shop – is painted in a dark Edwardian green and exactly the kind of place you can imagine a séance being held, or some old dear being discovered with a stigmata, or a poker across her head, crumpled in the fireplace. There’s impressive attention to detail, with a chaise lounge, table, and chairs, dried flowers in the fireplace and all manner of curiosities, like stepping into an episode of The Uncanny or being sucked into a mysterious portal.
With shadowy lighting, a heady aroma of incense and spooky sounds that emerge from hidden speakers, a powerful atmosphere is generated which builds as the performance unfolds. “Objects have memories, don’t they?” says Agata as she recounts her own wild tale. She uses family photographs, props, her body and occupies all four corners of the space.
This collective hallucination is the brainchild of Vinicius Salles, producer, director and writer, an interdisciplinary artist and dancer who has worked over thirty years for companies such as Punchdrunk, Jasmin Vardimon, and Gecko. He is also a Croydon local. The overall aesthetic of The Shop for Mortals and Fools is visually striking, redolent with atmosphere and succeeds in erasing the boundaries between audience and performer, life, and theatre. For 70 minutes, all the edges overlap. You don’t have to know the complexities of The Bacchae by Euripides to engage with the experience. This version is a homage to the ancient Greek tragedy with a distinctly contemporary feminist spin. There is plenty of oppressive patriarchy, implied good and evil, angry Gods, and fallible humans. There is also bacchanalian pleasure of all sorts and of pain to match.
The story narrated with a hypnotic and feverish delivery, builds into an intense climax. This is the story of a woman undone. Plus ça change. Agata, a compelling physical performer, in control of the story and her domain, has no credit in the handout, because she is who she is, and this is as real as an illusion gets. The appearance of a technician who appears momentarily to fix a reverberation issue with one of the speakers briefly breaks the immersive spell but technical hitches aside, this is something special and well worth the journey. Unsettling, riveting and fun, The Shop for Mortals and Fools is likely to stay with you, long after the show is over.
Runs until 1 March 2025
