Ilya Kaminsky’s poetry collection, published in 2019, is the seed from which this theatre production of Deaf Republic has grown.
Written by Dead Centre (Bush Moukarzel and Ben Kidd, who also direct) and Zoë McWhinney, the play is designed to be accessible to both deaf and hearing audiences. It uses spoken word, sign language, captions, film, and puppetry.
The story is introduced by Romel Belcher (Signer) and Caiomhe Coburn Gray (Worder). He signs, she interprets in spoken word. In the story they become Alfonso (hearing) and Sonya (deaf), a young married couple expecting a baby.
Their village, Vasenca, is under siege and occupation. Shells light up at a distance; public gatherings are prohibited. When a young deaf boy, Petya, is murdered for disobeying orders he can’t hear, the whole town goes deaf in solidarity.
It’s a symbol of both the reality of war, where the horrors are shut out or ignored, and the dangers deaf people can face in conflict. In the original poems, the Deaf Republic was revealed to Petya after his death. Here, Pavel (Eoin Gleeson) is the observer of the town.
Here, the co-directors and designers play with what is real and what is not. A gauze curtain has captions and live filming shown on it, but we can see through to the action behind. A puppet theatre is furnished, the actors are the players.
Bodies are hoisted up into the flies, limp on hooks, their performance over. A host of soldiers are played by the same actor (Dylan Tonge Jones), who tortures, murders and goads the townspeople in a taut assembly line of repetition.
Even we, the audience, are complicit by being at the gathering and failing to intervene. The actors sign without interpretation sometimes, cutting the hearing audience out. We are told how sign language relies on telling small stories.
It’s an audacious production. Deaf Republic challenges us to view war and humanity in a space that brings us all together. Even the silences are profound. And now and again, there is a peaceful interlude, such as Alfonso and Sonya in the bath together.
There’s a sense of the travelling player, the circus, and the absurd about Deaf Republic. Even aerial performance is included, and some scenes of violence and hostility are hard to watch.
Created by an integrated deaf and hearing ensemble this production is a bold step towards bringing audiences together. There are entirely captioned and entirely BSL signed performances available for those who prefer them.
The play, running around 1hr 45, is split into sections and represents the puppet theatre, the theatre of war, and the theatre of Deaf Republic, the play we are watching.
When the focus moves to Mother Garda (Derbhle Crotty) and her girls Lisa (Lisa Kelly) and Kate (Kate Finegan) the tone shifts from loving and playful to tense and cynical.
The set design of Jeremy Herbert sits well with the lighting of Azusa Ono and the sound design of Kevin Gleeson. Grant Gee’s video direction offers close-up work, odd camera perspectives, and more.
We are inhabits of this village and experience all of the story. What if it was real, and we couldn’t communicate? What if it was real, and we walked away? What if it was real, and you didn’t join with others to stop it?
I left thinking about Ukraine in particular, as Kaminsky was born in Odessa, but any war that reduces events and people to less than nothing or prejudice that seeks to dehumanise and discriminate.
We cannot hear, we cannot speak, we cannot understand, we cannot communicate. We did not do enough. We did not reach out to help.
It’s a pertinent lesson. Deaf Republic is a play that demands theatre includes, rather than excludes. It invests our time in each other as well as what is on the stage.
With the addition of a drone, Visual Vernacular (VV) and the use of deafness as the weapon of resistance, Deaf Republic is innovative, informative and impressive.
4 stars.
Deaf Republic continues at the Royal Court until 13 Sep with tickets here. It is presented by Royal Court Theatre and Dead Centre in association with Dublin Theatre Festival and Complicité.
Image credit: Johan Persson