Confined Human Condition

Confinement is something of a tenuous link between the two women at the heart of this double bill from boundary-pushing musical theatre company Cryptic.

The first, played by soprano Frances M Lynch in a work by Alejandro Vinao, is confined to her home following the death of her son in the bombing of a Baghdad market. Spoken and sung text combine to build a picture of a mother’s grief and anger, but there’s little in the repetitive, fragmented text that goes beyond ominous yet familiar strategy soundbites or light Bush-bashing.

Despite Vinao’s inspired blending of Arabic singing styles with electroacoustic rhythms and the sound of children’s voices, it is difficult to engage with the staged work, largely because Lynch is in silhouette for the vast majority of the time.

By contrast, Terror of Love is visually arresting from the very beginning, as a sleeping beauty lies on a deep pink bed trimmed with spikes and surrounded by rosy apples. What ultimately consumes her is not poison, but total surrender to love.

For the first 20 minutes or more, mezzo-soprano Lore Lixenberg is entirely captivating, bringing tremendous depth to the role of a woman entirely intoxicated by the erotic power of submission.

The shattering mirrors evoked by Phillip Neil Martin’s electronic score – which incorporates Tibetan singing bowls and prepared piano – provide warnings of a tragic end, but by the time it comes the spell has worn off, and indeed the limitations of James Johnson’s reflective set, around which a graceful seductress has been stalking, have become distractingly clear.

A version of this review first appeared in The Herald.