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St Art presents
Mother/Son
Photo by Gabriela Restelli
Written and performed by Jeffery Solomon
Directed by Shahar Kazara
Lighting by Arnim Friess
Oval House Theatre
11-29 May 2010
A review by Richard J Thornton for EXTRA! EXTRA! Mother/Son is a captivating 80-minute solo performance in which Jeffery Solomon plays both a representation of his younger self, the gay 30-something Brad, and his overbearing Jewish mother, Mindy. Via the detached intimacy of phone conversations, we watch their familial relationship develop as Brad reveals his homosexuality and his mother denies her homophobia. The beauty of the play surfaces as Mindy accepts Brad’s sexuality, and discovers the enjoyment of liberalism, as opposed to the suffering of fear. If you’re looking for a touching reminder that joy comes with acceptance, look no further. Mother/Son is a siren to both parents and children who fight the differences in their family, rather than support them. It is a potent challenge to the frightened ignorance of homophobia, and indeed the natural fear of things we don’t understand. It shows the sense of calm that can be achieved by accepting homosexuality in a loved one and how that calm can be directly converted into a new-found personal confidence in the homosexual themselves. In Mother/Son, Brad’s ‘coming out’ as gay induces his mother’s ‘coming out’ as liberal minded, and the relief she feels releases her from the boredom of a lifeless marriage and the stress of competitive friendships. As the tag line of the play reads, ‘No one comes out alone’. For a performance with a single actor, the play does well to maintain interest, and this is a testament to the skill and poise of Solomon, which makes the audience feel as if there is a larger, yet invisible supporting cast. In the non-telephone scenes, Solomon stares piercingly into the audience, addressing an unrepresented character as he invites us to react directly to his words and expressions. We, the audience, fill in any gaps in the cast. Solomon continues to employ this strategy in the phone scenes as well. The negative result of this procedure is that the performance loses the reality of a phone conversation - who maintains a fixed, unerring stance in one direction during an emotional phone call? However, such a technique may be necessary in order to help the audience follow the plot, and anyone who’s seen Solomon act will have no doubt that his facial expressions tell a story in themselves. Mother/Son is a play of two halves without an interval; by using a single actor who never leaves the stage, Brad and his mother are simultaneously half-present and half-absent, one dormant while the other active, and vice versa. Solomon’s continuous presence acts as a relentless reminder that despite their physical distance – Brad in L.A. and his mother in New York – the two souls share an unbreakable connection. As the forward slash in the title suggests, the mother and son are unified. The umbilical cord of birth has never broken, but instead morphed into a spiritual desire to be in constant contact: hence, the phone is never on the hook. The set is split neatly into two rooms interchanged between the central characters, and the lack of any physical or suggested divide creates a feeling of attachment between the two halves. It is always clear which room we are in, but we are always aware that another room lies just beneath it. There is a softness to the set and lighting, designed by Arnim Friess which reflect the sensitivity of the subject at hand, without inducing melodrama. They are functional, un-intrusive and complemented by unexploited sound effects that ensure there is no distraction from the hero/heroine. For example, as the red, green and blue bulbs throb above Brad in the gay club, there is no disbelief that our hero really is encountering a new dance-floor romance, despite the absence of the said figure. It wouldn’t be an American Jewish play without the casual peppering of sarcastic, doomsayer wit, and Mother/Son has its fair helping. Solomon shares the hit-points equally between his two personalities, ensuring each a chance to lighten the often tough exchanges and remind the audience of the deep-set love between them - , here humour solidifies their intimacy. The play has various climax points, which I won’t spoil, but if you like your entertainment stark but soft, colloquial, but approachable, you’ll be warmed by Mother/Son. A rainbow beacon to all those who’ve struggled with sexuality, the performance rises out of the self-pity that has tainted similar work to ensure a wholesome production. A production that rests sweetly in the arms of a mother who learns to put love first, and backward ideals back into history.
Box Office: 020 7582 7680 Oval House Tuesday – Saturday 8.00pm No performances on Monday Tickets: £12, £6 concessions
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