This was a very special show, more like a jewel on stage than a conventional stage play. Drama yes, but one finely cut with rich textures of narration, action and language than resonate to creates multiple impressions of its main character, Sarah Bernhardt. One began to sense the intricacies and extravagances that made Sarah Bernhardt into a fin de siecle superstar, one the of the first in the modern day infatuation with celebrity. One million people thronged Paris for her funeral – quite a spectacle, and fully justifying the majestic ending Susie brings to the enthralling portrayal of the life, achievement, doubts and aspirations of a performer who was in a league of her own.
This monologue performance too was in a league of its own. Its 90 minutes was chockas full of minor narrative, jokes, asides and confessions. One might argue less could be more, and it is possible to get lost in the detail, but much less would not provide clarity in a sensibility and life that was anything but clear. The tone of Edwardian recesses and embellishment was conveyed in lovely sets of floral screens, chaise, chairs and carpet (Justin Nardella) matched by low level lighting with occasional bursts of spot (Martin Kinnane).
I don’t know how Wayne Harrison directed this show. The acting style is so distinct, it almost creates its own methodology. Lindeman covers a wide spectrum of human emotions, but in a surprisingly busy, precise almost mimetic sense of language and action. The program tells us Bernhardt was interested in truth in action, that the actor should convey and exemplify emotional authenticity that is often disguised in everyday life. Lindeman does this in a refined, adroit manner that seems to challenge some modern schools of emotional expression. And her eyes dazzle, mesmerising the audience in a language of their own.
It is almost as if Lindeman channels Bernhardt, in all the charm, pathos, intensity, craft and intelligence that it took for her protege to rise to such fame. At times the intricacies of the show’s craft dropped away, and the audience was transported into another world and time, as fresh as the sunshine of the day just past.
Bernhardt might believe in truthfulness, but she was also a great flirt and storyteller, with charm, wit and cute looks, which Lindeman captures to a tee.
Yes the French accent, like the narrative layers, was marked even heavy at time, and sometimes English diction was lost. And yes one might ask how the show relates to us today. But to ask too much by way of linearity, clarity and relevance is to miss what is at the heart of the show, and that is in an antiquarian brilliance that continues to shine a universal truth one century after it was first extinguished, and makes us ask how much have we progressed.
The show works very well in the intimate 50 seat space at Meraki Arts. It is great that the owners of this tri level eating and performance venue have provided two affordance spaces. On the hand there would be thousands of Sydney theatre goers, including actors and students, who would value seeing this show and would have loved it but simply did not know it was on. Some larger venues have the lion’s share of marketing resources to capture audiences, but Sydney is not New York and smaller independent shows can so easily be overlooked. It sometimes seems lip service is given to access and equity in the distribution or provision of artistic resources.
This was a show that deserved to be noticed. It has been done in Paris earlier this year on the 100th anniversary of Bernhardt’s death. Lindeman has done other solo shows in London, Paris and US. Such commitment, accomplishment and talent is as deserving as it is rare.
SARAH Quand Même, written and performed by Susie Lindeman, and directed by Wayne Harrison played the Meraki Arts Bar 231 Oxford Street Darlinghurst between August 29 and September 2, 2023.
