Dublin Theatre Festival 2024: Starjazzer

Liv O'Donoghue in Starjazzer. Image by Patricio Cassinoni

****

Midnight. An old Georgian building. A woman points at the brightest star in the night sky. Her mother once told her angels rested their feet on stars. Depending which way you promenade through ANU’s profoundly moving Starjazzer you may also encounter the bells of St George or a dance floor banger. Starjazzer’s mirroring of two abused women as they once were meeting themselves as they are now asking if the past has been bettered or has the song remained the same? Its diptych of stories by two of Ireland’s most important dramatists, Louise Lowe and Sean O’Casey, exploring inherited trauma and domestic abuse. O’Casey’s short story serving as a jumping off point for Lowe into a searing exploration of heartbreak and resilience.

Ciara Byrne in Starjazzer. Image by Patricio Cassinoni

Under Lowe’s loving direction, it ultimately doesn’t matter which way you promenade. Chronologically, it begins in the yard of a tenement as an exhausted woman waits at night for water to trickle into a bucket. Climbing hundreds of steps every Tuesday for water and washing. Liv O’Donoghue, frayed in body and soul, on the verge of physical and mental collapse. Remembering that on Christmas Eve the stars supposedly danced. She used to dance. Used to be attractive, this girl trapped in a woman’s body trying to protect her childlike self, six other children and survive eight years of abuse called marriage. Sex on demand, saying no not an option morally or legally. Momentarily, she dances beneath the stars in an exhausted frenzy, as if too ashamed to dream, too terrified not to. Pummelling her chest as if trying to reawaken her soul. The intimate audience made complicit witnesses, standing bare inches away, hoping this stunning glimpse of a vibrant, beautiful, powerful woman will…but there’s the washing to be done. Inside the building, faltering on the candlelit stairway, she leads us to her room. Owen Bosses' white washed walls evoking a time closer to today.

Liv O'Donoghue in Starjazzer. Image by Patricio Cassinoni

For a brief time a powerful duet plays out as O’Donoghue’s world is mirrored by a contemporary, single mother. A familial victim of abuse housed in low budget accommodation of some impersonal State service. A fireball of defiance and tears vividly realised by Ciara Byrne. She too speaks of angels and gets the willies having to go down darkened stairs for water. She too likes to dance beneath the stars. But where O’Donoghue dances to remember, Byrne dances to forget. Where O’Donoghue’s voice cracks under the strain of hopelessness, Byrne’s swaggers with defiant confidence born of an expectation that she deserves better. The legacy of the bed as a prison sees O’Donoghue trying to sleep, her arm pressed against her back as if held there against her will, the inevitable taking place. Trauma normalised, even as its consequences prove horrific. O’Donoghue battered in body and soul, Byrne no longer able to speak.

As always with ANU, tech doesn’t simply frame the action, its informs it. Ciaran Bagnall’s lights adding emotional depth, along with Rob Moloney’s sound and Saileóg O’Hallorahan’s costumes. O’Hallorahan’s superb attention to detail evident in O’Donoghue’s threadbare blouse with a hole in the back. O’Donoghue’s excellent performance evoking a time when women could only scream helplessly. Byrne superb as a defiant woman in a child’s body forced to grow up to soon.

Ciara Byrne in Starjazzer. Image by Patricio Cassinoni

As a theatre maker, Lowe is one of a kind. Crafting works where details and narrative are fingers pointing towards an experiential moon. Occasionally, though, the fingers don’t point clearly, or clouds get in the way. Creating a lack of clarity exacerbated by Starjazzer’s confined, claustrophobic intimacy. One that risks a rushed incoherence early on. As if being challenged by a wild, oversharing stranger not quite making sense. Yet, as always with Lowe, Starjazzer operates on two levels; social and personal. The thwarted needs of the individual offering a keyhole view onto the larger society. Reminding us that politics should always be about people. It either saves them or does nothing. But Lowe won’t argue the toss. She allows her powerful women to speak for themselves. To howl and roar. Starjazzer offering a compelling, powerful and deeply moving interrogation of normalised abuse. It’s run justifiably extended. Grab a ticket if you can.

Starjazzer, by ANU Productions, runs at The Royal Society of Antiquaries, Merrion Square, as part of Dublin Theatre Festival 2024 until October 19.

For more information visit Dublin Theatre Festival 2024