Writer: Chiara Atik
Director: Blanche McIntyre
In 1958, Clare of Assisi was declared the patron saint of television by Pope Pius XII. She died about 700 years before then, but her vision of midnight mass being celebrated ten miles away made her a good fit for the patron saint of transmitted worship. Chiara Atik finds the legends of Clare of Assisi a good fit for the discussion of dawning wokeness in a twelfth-century valley girl, and gives us a very funny, very pertinent play charting the rising conscience of a twelfth-century fashionista when confronted with Francis of Assisi.
Clare and her sister Beatrice love fancy frocks and radical hairstyles. They live in a palazzo (biggish house, if the ‘palace’ bit is somewhat embarrassing) in Assisi, and they are keen to see what the fuss is about when a preacher with a vow of poverty comes to town. The play charts the development of Clare’s conscience under the tutelage of St. Francis, from spoiled rich kid into the founder of the order of nuns called the Poor Clares.
The big thing to notice is that the anachronism really works. The girls’ chatter is very funny and very relatable, for anyone with a working knowledge of fashion influencers and reality TV. The steady growth of a conscience in Clare is easy to follow. Her conclusions regarding the relationship between rich and poor, between those with way too much and those with not nearly enough, strike home acutely.
Her decision to give up her comfort and her costumery for a vow of poverty and service to those in need is challenging in a very present way. Clare speaks the prayer of St. Francis (“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…”) and recalls vividly Margaret Thatcher entering Downing Street in 1979. She brings the play to its conclusion by shifting into a contemporary view – travelling back on the tube and ignoring the folk asking for some change for a hostel, failing to see the rough sleepers in the shop doorways we pass, feeling a bit guilty but forgetting all about it when we get home. It is challenging and it is pertinent.
Chiara Atik is well served by her cast and her director. Clare’s little sister Beatrice, played by Anushka Chakravarti, is delightful, the chorus of maids-in-waiting, played by Liz Kettle and Jacoba Williams, provide an irreverent, relevant commentary on the performative wokeness of their mistress, and Hermione Gulliford gives us Clare’s mother, trying to be sympathetic, trying to understand, but really thinking her little girl would be better off marrying a rich man and giving to charity. Her loving confusion is powerful. George Ormerod gets to portray The Poor in all their flea-bitten squalor, and he does that well, but it is a fairly token character.
The heart of the play, though, is the developing understanding between Francis, ex-soldier, ex-rich kid, now developing a way of practically eroding the gap between rich and poor, and Clare. Played by Freddy Carter and Arsema Thomas, their discussions are richly humorous and extremely pertinent. The pair of them strike every note perfectly, bringing the serious meat out of the humour, being confused but ever more profoundly committed. It is an impressive pair of performances, with the laurel going to Arsema Thomas, witty, charming, extremely moving.
The in-the-round staging at the Orange Tree is particularly well managed by Blanche McIntyre’s flowing direction and Eleanor Bull’s spare, effective design. Bull is also responsible for costume design, which is almost another character in itself, and perhaps the hair design, which assumes enormous importance as the play proceeds. Chris Smyth should be given an honourable mention for the wonderful wigs.
Chiara Atik asks profound questions of her well-heeled Richmond audience, and it may not make much of a practical difference, but it asks questions that need asking, makes demands that have to be answered. And entertains at the same time.
Runs until 9 August 2025
