Love, loss, loneliness, and rebirth: Atthis at the Linbury Studio Theatre 23/04/15

‘It begins with the gaze. Starstruck glances give way to a gentle caress, before sexuality and desire explode on stage, bodies intertwined under a stark, unfeeling light; an embrace of total physicality that sinks, over and over, down to the floor, in peace. The haze and frenzy of desire die with the light of day; one lover slips away in the darkness, and the other is left alone with the night. The lovers meet again, and part again, before the next day’s happiness gives way to a broiling, erotic fury at betrayal, a coruscating, red-white rage that transfigures that initial caress into violence and that initial embrace into brutality. The lovers part again. Death overtakes the first lover, and night’s obsidian coffin entombs her one last time; as she has slept, so she dies – alone.’

I venture to the outer reaches of written self-enthronement in my latest review for Bachtrack. Read it here.