Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️

You could suggest (and certainly, I'm about to) that as well as being home to the London Symphony Orchestra, the Barbican Centre represents the varying possibilities of theatre. Alongside showcasing London premieres of Pulitzer-winning work (A Strange Loop) and starry musical revivals (Kiss Me, Kate), the Centre also houses adaptable 200-seater The Pit, a space for less commercial, more experimental work to thrive. This is where Ruth Negga, previously nominated for both Academy and Tony Awards, makes her bold, belated return to the London stage.

In Quiet Songs, Negga plays the role of Boy, a secondary schooler who is quickly realises just what makes him so different from his classmates and how vitriolic the others have become. “Tomorrow is a bad thing,” he muses in the darkness, conceding that knowing so won't stop it from coming. Boy takes us through the mundanities of adolescent life, from losing friends to hateful teachers, always through the lens of someone whose changing identity has left them with a deeply felt pain, and has raised the ire of those around him.

Director Finn Beames, also playwright and composer, opts for a detached coldness to Boy’s characterisation, highlighting his disengagement from the life continuing on around him. This proves to be an excellent mode for Negga to operate in, a hint of derision creeping into her tone that sells the disenfranchisement and institutional disdain that only a teenager can truly feel. Though clearly a deliberate choice, the metaphorical wall Boy has up can make him difficult to truly relate to, and the detachment makes it that bit too easy to remember you aren't watching the character, but an actor delivering their lines.

Walking about the space, telling the tale with only fleeting moments directed to any audience, Negga’s work is a masterclass in restraint. She carries the character's sense of turmoil beneath the surface, and her ability to remain calm, almost cold in her delivery works well with Beames’ progressive revelation of how wounded his protagonist is. When recounting a classroom session is which people like him – homosexuals, as is the unspoken implication – are discussed as something to be eradicated, the outrage and shame Negga keeps bubbling underneath her monologue is utterly captivating.

A theme of music, of the titular Quiet Songs permeates the work with Negga joined onstage by musicians Fra Rustumji, Chihiro Ono, Hoda Jahanspour, and Thea Sayer. Each plays their instruments well, often called on to create dissonant sounds or intentionally discomforting melodies, and find themselves providing the score through both traditional and non-traditional means. Beames, creative armourer Zoe Phillips, and fight director Bret Yount unite their skills, in one particularly effective moment, as fencing with metal swords provides percussive accompaniment, joined by the bows of violins used for the same sparring routine. With blades scraped by bows and by other blades, and violin strings plucked and strummed by hand, Beames and co’s work can be difficult to find consistent melodies in, but is always fascinating to observe.

Equally, Samal Blak’s set is arresting – the black box space becomes menacing when lights rise to reveal first one, then many, swords handing over the space where not long ago Negga’s Boy had laid resting. These notes of threat, of violence, bring the design in line with the story being told, the near-constant presence of weaponry suggesting the harshness of classmates, or even the cutting nature of one's own thoughts at such a tender age. Indeed, this same feeling of dread and of harm to come permeates the entire work, with Beames’ story seemingly ready to tilt into a violent encounter at any moment.

His script exemplifies the detached style of the work, Boy delivering the details of traumatic instances as if he's not only moved past the emotions roused, but was never engaged with these moments to begin with. You can almost see the prizes Quiet Songs would compete for were it a published short story, Beames’ skill at involving his audience in a world his hero feels no connection to a perfect match for literary fiction. And it does work remarkably well as a play, but sat in the audience it is that bit too easy to feel too detached, too disconnected from the only character we spend any great deal of time with.

A fascinating collaboration of genres and a fearful exploration of how traditional and non-traditional methods can be melded, Quiet Songs is a daring, never-dull piece of work that will draw firm lines between those captivated by post/modern techniques and those who find them try-hard. With Ruth Negga once again proving her credentials in a brave, exciting return to the London stage, both sides will likely find themselves paying a visit, willingly giving an hour to what is – regardless of their stance on the approach – a finely honed, richly-realised performance.

Quiet Songs plays at The Pit, at the Barbican Centre, until November 2nd

For tickets and information visit https://www.barbican.org.uk/whats-on/2024/event/finn-beames-company-quiet-songs

Photos by Helen Murray