Writers: Florence Brady, Adam Davies, Henry McGrath, Charles Sandford
Imagine a dozen or 15 people sat around on sofas, chairs and steps in the wide space of a former church hall, windows blacked out, furniture for the set shoved up against the limits of the stage. Then the cast move furniture so that it takes its place on the stage: two pairs of steps, lots of blackboards and white backgrounds. The four cast members sing an a cappella chant, then Kaspar calls the meeting to order for Experiment One.
The poor attendance for Animikii Theatre seems a sad reward for the hard work and skill that went into The Kaspar Hauser Experiment – the first night had, apparently, been a little better – but in truth the reluctance of Leeds theatre-goers to undertake the jaunt to the friendly little theatre in Armley can be understood. This is theatre that rejoices in the name ‘experimental’.
Let’s go back to Nuremberg 1828. A mysterious ‘wild boy’ calling himself Kaspar Hauser appears in the town square, wishing to become a cavalryman. He says he has been imprisoned in a cell for 17 years and initially cannot walk normally. Various theories appear as to his provenance, including a prince and a conman. In real life he lived only for five more years before dying after an attack.
The Animikii version concentrates on three experiments, three people seeking to gain his love and, especially in the case of the severe Christian among them, to mould his character. The result can be confusing, but the methods used are deeply impressive. The physicality of the performance extends to wild manic pursuits across the large open stage; the music is admirably done, bringing us back at the end to the same song about Whitsun 1828; effects such as the ticking of a metronome are subtly integrated; the set, with its piles of books, echoes the dominance of the word.
The four writers, with the exception of Adam Davies, are also three of the four actors, bringing a burning conviction to their parts, especially the remarkable performance of Kaspar, spiritual, then whirling into a fury, displaying a huge range of emotions, taking in the whole stage in his giant stride.
It’s a production that, without giving any clear answers, has a mesmeric quality that draws you in.
Reviewed on 19th May 2022. Runs at The Lowry until 21st May 2022.
