Biography of a Constellation – Orange Tree Theatre, London

Writer: Lila Rose Kaplin

Director: Paloma Sierra

Paloma Sierra directs American playwright’s Biography of a Constellation as part of LAMDA’s Greenhouse Festival. It’s an ambitious piece, partly a celebration of the American astronomer, Annie Jump Cannon (1863-1941) and her innovative classification system for the stars.

Lila Rose Kaplin intertwines Cannon’s story with a revisionary retelling of the myth of Andromeda. In the traditional telling with its powerful iconography, Andromeda is chained to rocks waiting to be devoured by a sea monster. Until, that is, she is rescued by one of the great Greek heroes, Perseus. Kaplin, in what is now a well-worn trope, takes issue with this figure of the heroic male rescuer. Perseus is demoted, although to what exactly isn’t clear. And Andromeda, while needing help to be released, has no intention of taking the conventional path of marriage. There’s an awkward bit of plotting later where Andromeda is allowed to become a constellation. But isn’t this starry translation standard practice in Greek tales of metamorphosis?

There is similar awkwardness about the figure of Cannon herself, now an exceptionally old lady, awaiting death. She feels it’s important that her grandson Gregory accesses her journals and papers in the world’s worst-kept archive in order to deliver an appropriate eulogy. This is all fine and good, but Cannon, we know, never married or had children. So Kaplin’s determination to remythologise her with a traditional hetero-normative background undermines the writer’s larger intention of recuperating the reputations of various forgotten heroines.

Phoenix Edwards as Andromeda gives a striking performance, but ultimately doesn’t always have enough to work with. For the most part, she is stranded on stage in her flimsy chains awaiting her fate. Grace Wallis gives a certain stature to Andromeda’s mother, Cassiopaea, and to Cannon. Director Paloma Sierra steps in to read the part of the narrator as well as an unenthusiastic staff member of a modern planetarium. To be honest, this latter role could usefully be cut. The piece is overlong to start with, and it’s this character who drives the distinctly didactic approach which makes it feel as if this is all a left-over of a site-specific play. Do we really need someone explaining the meanings of long words, for example?

The other tricky character is Gregory who is played as both boy and adult by Roy Mas. May also plays a suitable self-obsessed Perseus. Mas seems to take for his model Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Little Prince, giving all three parts an exaggeratedly wide-eyed exuberance that allows little for subtlety.

The music, particularly the star-like shimmering at the beginning by composer Abhinav Mishra is really appealing, but the balance of sound needs urgent adjustment. On several occasions, it’s impossible to hear what is being said.

Biography of a Constellation is a many-stranded piece, but its good intentions outweigh its dramatic heft.

Runs until 7 September 2024