Imogen Sage as Camille Claudel, in the background Dorothea Csutkai and Cloé Fournier. Picture: Daniel Boud
Compelling, moving and a visual delight, Claudel is the tragic story of a woman whose ambition to excel as a sculptor was cut short, oppressed by disapproving family and the strong hand of the patriarchy. It is written and directed by Wendy Beckett and, in an inspired pairing with choreographer Meryl Tankard, Claudel’s works are portrayed by dancers who bring to life the line and fluidity, pain and passion chiselled into her stone and marble statues. Everything about this production – the script, the set and costume design, sound and lighting, the performances from both actors and dancers – combines beautifully to provide 90 minutes of unforgettable theatre.
Camille Claudel’s artistic life was as short as it was brilliant. As is often the case, it brought her little renown during her life and she lived in the shadow of her mentor and lover Auguste Rodin, whom she met when she was very young. Her sculptures are exquisite and her star was rising, but people and events conspired against her. A talented woman and a free spirit, she flouted societal expectatations and suffered terrible consequences as a result.
We meet Camille and two of her classmates in the Paris studio as they wait to meet the feted Auguste Rodin. Imogen Sage imbues Claudel with youthful zest, feistiness and determination; Christopher Stollery gives us a solid and completely self-assured Rodin. It is clear where these two are headed. The dancers – Dorothea Csutkai, Cloé Fournier and Kip Gamblin – are already on stage in tableaux.
Tankard’s wonderful choreography allows statues to come to life and actors to become the embodiment of those statues. It is all beautifully done. One of Claudel’s most famous sculptures, The Mature Age, can be seen as an allegory of ageing – the older man leaving behind youth – or it can be seen, as it is performed here, full of sadness, regret and longing, as Claudel reaching out to Rodin, who clings to his wife. One of the most haunting scenes and one that is difficult to adequately describe is Sage and Fournier depicting the darkness and trauma of abortion.
Tara Morice’s Madame Claudel is the epitome of straitlaced resentment, tightly held together in her black bodices and attitudes; Mitchell Bourke, as the character of her son Paul Claudel demands, is no match for her and no help to his sister.
Claudel spent the last 30 of her years incarcerated in an asylum. There is little doubt that her mental health was fragile – in short succession, she had to endure abandonment by Rodin, her lover of eight years and whose child she had aborted for fear of public shame and censure; the death of her beloved father; the hatred of her disapproving mother; and betrayal by her fickle and faithless brother. Enough to bring anyone down really, but not sufficient reason to keep her isolated and out of society forever. She was, of course, a female rebel, someone who chose not to live by the mores of early 20th century society and was therefore at best a nuisance and at worst a threat.
Claudel is presented by Pascal Productions and Tinderbox Productions. The season at the Playhouse is short, Claudel runs until only 9 May. It is the best piece of theatre I have seen in a long while, so I can’t help but thoroughly recommend it.
$79.90-$109.50 plus $8.50 booking fee
