Modern life is not known for giving us opportunities to sit, and think, and be. We are constantly moving, working – there is very little time to do anything else. What is valuable about theatre and about storytelling is the space it gives us to contemplate the kind of lives we live and want to live, whether we want to progress or regress. What it means to more than just survive. A moment, to inhale, and to exhale. This is what great theatre, what As Long As We Are Breathing, does.
A woman walks up and starts chatting about porridge, the same kind of interaction I might have with a particularly sociable soul on the street – the lights are still up, the audience is still chatting and taking their seats; this is a kind of immersion into theatre so smooth I didn’t realize at first that the play had already begun. What follows is tender, a lesson for participatory productions – an invitation, but never a compulsion, to join in. The play continues, first with a reminiscence on holocaust survivor Miriam Freedman’s adult life in London, her expansive and boisterous spirit, her liveliness, and her introduction to yogic practice – there is a lot of breathwork here.
Freedman is played by two actresses who occupy the stage simultaneously, sharing the narrative, bouncing the events off each other; “Miriam,” her later-in-life manifestation, is played Caroline Gruber, whereas Zoe Goriely takes on the mantle of Freedman’s younger adult and child manifestations, the latter called “Eva.” Both performances are fantastic: Gruber shares Freedman’s experiences with an evocative vulnerability, tempered with seriousness and humour, and generously attends to the trials and tribulations of her younger self; Goriely, meanwhile, deftly balances moments of great physicality (Running! Leaping! Dancing!) and great emotional intensity (the anguishes of a child surviving the unthinkable) with intention and subtlety. Both are affecting and artful. Goriely’s embodiment of the range of stages of Freedman’s young life is particularly notable. One final performer, Matthew James Hinchliffe, offers musical accompaniment and reflects the presence of some minor characters, neatly augmenting the world and experience of the play while never taking away from our leads.
All are supported by the solid direction of Ben Caplan, who incorporates a number of smart gestures and staging choices both big and small, from the lights remaining slightly up on the audience for much of the play to the sound of Eva’s anxious breathing amplified by the laboured rasp of a clarinet; a repeating motif of flowers representing the family is quite memorable and moving, especially as the blooms are hidden away, one by one. Jasmine Colangelo’s movement direction also deserves praise.
The play captures a huge span of experience and ruminates on many different themes – spirituality, personal growth, years of war and the loss of so many family members; it starts off alighting from topic to moment to yoga pose with compelling swiftness, but as the narrative more centrally hones in on the experience of war, some of the threads come a bit loose, and some of the momentum lets off as we find ourselves trapped in hiding, surviving Nazi occupation. As we move past the war, conflicts rise and fall rather quickly, from the nature of forgiveness to the injustice of one’s voice being supressed. But in this way, As Long as We Are Breathing reflects its origins – someone telling their life story, often in ways that do not assert one single meaning, but rather a panoply. And what an extraordinary story it is, and what an honour to hear it.
Run time is 90 minutes with no interval.
Bookings run until March 1st, 2025, and can be found here: https://www.arcolatheatre.com/
Reviewer: Zak Rosen
Reviewed: 30th January 2025
North West End UK Rating:
Rating: 4 out of 5.
