Created by Matt Prest, Clare Britton and Branch Nebula (Lee Wilson and Mirabelle Wouters), Whelping Box is both a celebration and condemnation of brute physical power and the ritualistic dance of procreation. It traces an exponential of discomfort as its tightly blocked vignettes unfold onstage. The audience is seated in a square, with the majority of the action taking place in the centre of this space, which injects a heightened measure of immediacy from the beginning. It also allows for close, at times disturbing, interaction between the performers and the audience, generating an undercurrent of anxiety.
Above the floor-centre hangs a concave lighting board that oscillates colours throughout the performance, paralleling the modal changes in the intricate sound design. Its height shifts along with its function in the mise-en-scene, variously serving as a matrimonial bed, stadium light, siren and more. There are moments where the stage is pitch black, barring the pulsating throbs of colour projected onto this surface, again accompanied by the glitchy, minimal soundscapes of Jack Prest.
The action begins innocently enough – one man in sporting gear runs a ring inside the confines of the square, breathing heavily. Shortly another enters the arena and begins to run behind him, keeping a constant distance. With each rotation he inches closer to the first, who in turn begins darting haphazardly in a bid to escape his pursuer but fails, and turns to meet him. The two men are shortly chest-to-chest, jogging on the spot, in a jostle of intimidation and sexual tension.
As they mirror one another’s physical movements, a strobe light begins to illuminate their bodies and the ambiguous ritual begins to resemble something more like dancing. This perhaps is a microcosm of the performance as a whole – a series of distinct but interrelated vignettes that chart the charming, often destructive, but ultimately life-affirming qualities of procreation rituals. Freud’s ideas of the death drive and sex drive are fused together into a sweaty, brutal, visceral, yet charming, explosion of bodily energy.
The sound design is really the third performer in this piece, complementing, and at times juxtaposing the movement on stage. Much of the design was fairly minimal, drawing on the sounds created by the performers as they stomped, slid and climbed their way around the wooden panelling bordering the square. The pre-recorded material was very industrial, dominated by amplified boxes, sounds of metal clanging and the fuzz of white noise. These were combined to great effect in the climactic scenes, drawing out primal reactions.
Despite the ambiguous nature of many of these episodes, there are some clear instances where contemporary life is acutely parodied – such as the spoof of a new age masseuse who blindfolds his clients and, as they lie on the ground, massages them with a shovel, intermittently slamming it near their heads. Or the game where the two performers tie a harness to their chests, connect it to their corners, strap their heads with cellophane tape and charge into the centre aiming to head-butt the other. The clangs that sound off after each near miss are very disconcerting, serving as a clear reminder of some of the more brutal aspects of machismo. This is immediately followed by the bizarrely touching scene where one of the combatants brings over a bowl of water for the other (who slurps it as a dog would) and begins rubbing his torso, telling him he’s a ‘good boy’.
Maybe the only criticism to be made is that a few of the episodes extended longer than they should have. But this is ultimately a highly-charged performance, unique in concept and execution.
Rating: 4 stars out of 5
Whelping Box
Co-Creators: Clare Britton, Matt Prest, Branch Nebula (Lee Wilson, Mirabelle Wouters)
Performers: Matt Prest, Lee Wilson
Designers: Clare Britton, Mirabelle Wouters
Sound Artist: Jack Prest
Produced by: Performing Lines
Carriageworks, Eveleigh
23 October – 3 November
