So, I'm trying to piece together the movie in my mind as I rewind back through "I'm a Phoenix, Bitch" devised and performed by Bryony Kimmings. Kimmings is an Autobiographical Performance Artist. As I write this, random scenes and gorgeous theatrical images are being played back in my head like a storyboard with so much food for thought. Where do I start? I suppose I'd better begin by saying this contemporary performance - part counselling session - was well worth waiting for. It was an outstanding, sincere, and cathartic piece of theatre.
Skipping back to 2016, Kimmings experienced post-natal breakdowns, a relationship with Tim barely treading above water, and witnessing her son, Frank's decline in health. After having therapy to come to terms with the last few years, in her own words she had got herself together, "and could safely make work".
The rewinding process, Kimmings told us about, is an actual therapeutic technique for managing trauma. A concept that became the creative springboard for a series of re-created films (key memories in her life) presented to us. Interweaving this was the elements of stand-up comedy, autobiographical accounts, physical theatre, and a powerful movie music score. The loud music was so emotional it made her experience palpable.
Content warnings were clearly communicated before the show. We were reminded this was a safe space and we were looked after all the way through by Kimmings with a mother's touch. We had the opportunity to hug her afterwards if we needed to.
This performance was an exemplary case study for how to devise an autobiographical performance. It was not a cringy case of exploiting the audience and performer relationship: by which I mean she has learnt so much as a person, so as a performer, she decides to patronisingly teach us self help tips on how to deal with our own mental health. Instead, it was a scenario where the personal was made political. The whole show thrived on brutal honesty and authenticity. Hence, why audience members were in tears after the show.
On stage were four covered exhibitions, representative of key moments in her life which contributed to her post traumatic stress disorder. One by one, each installation was uncovered and points in time were revisited. The presentational aspects served as a safe anchor back to the present moment after visiting those dark places. A beautiful reminder that our minds can make things ten times worse and recognising the difference between objective and inner reality forms progression to recovery. When Kimmings broke the fourth wall, we got to experience the way she is today. Even if this was a theatrical construction for the purposes of this performance, because of her genuineness her stage persona was very real - no notable difference if you'd have met her in the foyer afterwards.
Kimmings wore her heart on her sleeve making the internal, external; projecting to us the movie in her mind. In addition, she was frank about her devising process. We knew we were going to be emotionally manipulated especially through the performance's film-like quality. It was transparent that Kimmings would play contrasting, exaggerated characters of herself in the representational moments. Within this, she creatively explored various film genres such as horror and styles like Noir.
Challenging stigmas around particular issues within society has played a big part in Kimmings' programme of works over the years. Her brave, in-depth investigation into motherhood and mental health in this production is eliciting compassion and starting vital conversations. It reveals the transformative, healing power of theatre. It's the acceptance that some days you'll be swimming just fine across the water, other times you'll sink, and every now and then you'll rise like a phoenix. Thank you Kimmings for your sensitivity and tenderness. You're an inspiration to the theatre community.
Reviewer - Sam Lowe
on - 27/11/19
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