Writer: Nathaniel Jones
Director: Kate Kirkpatrick
Missing out on the ideal scheduling spot by just a week, Nathaniel Jones’ single character piece Sing, River is a celebration of midsummer’s eve and the spiritual connection to a local river where the lead character searches for insights into Britain’s mystical past. This 75-minute show mixes folk songs composed by Faye James with a personal story about forgetting which questions the purpose of history and ponders the significance of never knowing what things mean.
Every year the protagonist celebrates midsummer eve and revels in the pagan rituals of gods and connection to the natural world. Often, as with this year, they are drawn to the river where they pick through a variety of items torn up from the riverbed, performing a ritual for the waiting audience and hoping to find a single item with personal significance that will aid their quest to understand their own memories and release their grip.
Jones’ play is initially a show and tell, a simplistic presentation of different objects found in the river about which the character speculates on their origin and purpose. Various items are scattered about the stage, arranged in a semi-circle punctuated by rocks and candles that create a carved-out space to perform the rites ahead. As the character rummages among them, their own associated memories emerge pulling this story from the magical into the grounded and human experience of the speaker.
There is a time pressure that moves things along, although perhaps not as quickly as it should, with the river insisting the protagonist be done by sunrise and who cannot be released until their work is complete. It is a scenario with lots of possibility and Jones uses it to atmospheric effect, but the connection to this spot on this river for this character is less clear, and while the process becomes muddied by personal revelations, the show could strengthen its sense of place beyond the link to midsummers past.
Jones returns a couple of times to the erasure of pagan beliefs by the Romans, but it feels like a half-thought, the significance of which could be better explained, particularly what is it about polytheism that appeals to the character. Likewise, Sing, River starts to think about the detritus of the past and the physical forms it takes, sometimes as litter left in the river itself and sometimes the emotional pain the character carries around with them, but the show never goes far enough in divining what that means for the individual. They ask whether they can be proud of history but can’t quite articulate why they might want to be.
As the performer, Jones conjures up the scenario really well and their character is both mysterious and gentle, embracing the spirituality of the solstice. The songs are well performed and add to the mood of the piece, although they are ultimately tangential to the overall plot and could be better integrated perhaps as prayers or evocations with a more specific purpose in the story.
Sing, River is certainly an interesting premise with lots of potential but needs to be more certain of what it wants from this midsummer’s evening even if the character is not.
Runs until 8 July 2023
