La Merda by Cristian Ceresoli
Performed by Silvia Gallerano. Produced and presented by Marta Ceresoli,Richard Jordan Productions, Produzioni Fuorivia in association with Summerhall and the support of The Basement (Brighton. U.K.) The Space. Adelaide Festival Centre. March 5-8
Reviewed by Peter Wilkins
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| Silvia Gallerano. Photo by Guilia Ducci |
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| Cristian Celerosi. Photo by Valeria Tomasulo |
As raw as a sliced cut of
blood-oozing beef, La Merda rips at the heart, tears open the fragile layers of
sensitivity and exposes the disgusting darkness of a thirteen year old girl’s
excruciating account of grief, despair, abuse and unfulfilled dreams. Silvia
Gallerano, crouched naked upon a tall stool in a solitary pool of light, howls
the grief of the young girl’s loss of a father, screams defiance against
intimidation and humiliation, grunts the gross lust of the sexually abusive
predator and returns time and again to the voice of innocence and desire.
Gallerano’s amazing vocal dexterity extols her song of experience, wailing with
agonized pain, sweetly uttering the sounds of hope, guttural in her depiction
of the degenerate males that defile and degrade and forever exposed and vulnerable
in her nakedness.
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| Silvia Gallerano. Photo by Valeria Tomasulo |
It is the woman who now must
redress the wrongs done to the girl, restore her faith, realize her dreams and
rise against the forces, that would rob her of her virtue, her ambitions and
the strength to be who she is. La Merda is a protest against the tyranny of
exploitation and oppression, told by a performer whose courage and boldness to
sit entirely naked for an hour before her audience and recount, without the
shackles of self-consciousness the truths of horrific experience at the hands
of those who would destroy her innocence through sexual abuse, her ambitions to
be a famous actress and her dreams to expunge the shit that stifles identity
and opportunity.
La Merda confronts with ferocious
force. From the voice of Gallerano surges the breadth of the young girl’s
experience. This is theatre of cruelty, as powerful and revolutionary as
Artaud, voiced in violence and sung in defiance. For some, it will disturb. For
others it will inspire. For all it is a salutary reminder to protect the
innocent, encourage the hopeful and defy those who would deny identity and
destroy hope.
Gallerano’s performance is
spell-binding. Perhaps it is too long and possibly it could be as powerful if
it were not performed entirely naked throughout the hour. That is a performer’s
will and a director’s decision. Gallerano’s vocal force erupts with volcanic
power over an audience, horrified by the young girl’s account. Those who stood
in ovation at the end, when Gallerano stood before them, nowwrapped in material and discarding her nakedness
to take her curtain call, recognized that she was speaking for all who suffered
oppression at the hands of abusive adults, false imagemakers and oppressors of
every kin, though primarily male. La Merda opens the sewers of experience to
illustrate who we are.
It is a theatrical experience
that one is unlikely to forget and one that is important to remember.
