In 1924, Franz Kafka published his short story, A Hunger Artist. The title didn't merely refer to the palpable association between hunger and art, but to a man who was, literally, starving for art. In fact, the starving was his art; the art, his starvation. The man, you see, gave fasting 'performances'. Clockfire Theatre's A Hunger Suite is a response to the story, 'though you needn't know it to extract meaning from this (very short, at just over thirty minutes) play.In AHS, the artist is off-stage, taunted, inveigled and seduced by idle spectators, determined to disrupt and corrupt his art and aspirations. In fact, these intellectual plebeians seem hellbent on ensuring the man has no opportunity to pursue his art and, as such, freedom.
Clockfire has preserved the quintessentially Kafkaesque nature of the idea, inasmuch as the unseen man is the very epitome of marginalisation; outsider; other. The present of the other is evoked before we even enter the theatre, as mesmerising ud and riq music plays. On entering, a maestro (repeatedly invoked by the actors) is present, serving as a live foley artist; equipped with a saw, empty tin drum, cymbals and so on, used inventively to produce a wide range of sound effects.
In the original story, the artist was caged and, thus, objectified. In the play, the tables are ultimately turned, with one of those that sought to capture the artist inadvertently confined to her own cage. At least her head, or mind, is thus imprisoned. And, of course, if the mind is imprisoned, the rest will follow. Unsurprisingly, she begins to behave like a trained bird, even nesting in a pile of straw. In Kafka, the artist becomes a veritable circus animal, a thing to be gawked at and mocked; sidelined and abused. Clockfire, however, seems to avenge this status, by way of the reversal described above.
In Kafka, the artist endures diminishing celebrity, becoming a martyred figure; some have suggested Christ-like. There's a sense of this in 'the suite', despite the fact he (or she) is unseen; unheard. S/he is portrayed in mirror-image: the reflection comes through the reactions and interactions of the voyeurs. They don't understand him, so choose to tease, taunt and bully him. He might as well be the fat kid in the playground. The gay man in the locker-room. The woman wearing a hijab.
But as much as there is empathy for the artist in both works (there are those who've gone so far as to assert it as autobiographical on FK's part), there's also a whiff of irony. It seems there's a cross-current of parody of the artist's vision of himself; as misunderstood, unappreciated; whose work comprises pearls before swine. Perhaps, too, there's a documentary aspect, if you will: charting the necessity for an artist, of any kind, to isolate hime or herself, in order to create; this loneliness being a price paid.
You're as well to take in AHS on a purely surreal level, as wrestle too much with it, let alone the story to which it responds. Especially as there's really no consensus as to Kafka's allegorical intent. Emily Ayoub, Mine Cerci and Alicia Gonzales are charismatic as three devoted spectators of the artist, taking pleasure, one senses, in his inevitable and imminent demise. It's all a bit like the monkey island at the zoo: who's watching who? Which party is truly imprisoned?
Taken at face value, you'll still be tickled, if not challenged. 'The maestro' in the corner alone fascinates with her cache of cacophonous objects. There are bales of hay strewn around the small stage, to create a barnyard aesthetic. Another of the cast squeaks around on a small tricycle, seemingly glued to its seat. Then there's the woman trying to lure the artist back into his cage and ends up a veritably avian prisoner herself.
It's all quite strange. Quite intriguing. And quite charming. Not fantastic (much of the mime is inscrutable). But fantastical. And we need a whole lot more of that.
The Old 505 Theatre presents The Clockfire Theatre Company production
The Hunger Suite
Devisors: Emily Ayoub, Mine Cerci, Alicia Gonzales
Venue: Suite 505, 342 Elizabeth St Surry Hills
Dates: 21 November - 2 December 2012
Times: Wed - Sat 8pm, doors open 7.30pm
Tickets: $20
Bookings: trybooking.com
