On Saturday morning I left wet, windy Galway behind and headed to Dublin for a day of Fringe shows. My first show of the day was Autobiographer in the Studio Space at Smock Alley. I hadn’t been there since the Theatre Festival last year but I think it’s a great theatre.
I wasn’t really sure what to expect from the show. I was mostly there because I really liked Melanie Wilson’s previous show Iris Brunette. For me, Autobiographer didn’t have the same impact. It was atmospheric and the actors delivered wonderful, simple performances but I left a bit confused by the whole. The four actresses, of various ages, each wearing a flowing blue dress, picked up the disjointed narrative and passed it between themselves. It felt like one woman’s story, told through the many facets of that woman. There were reoccurring images and ideas but no clear narrative. We only saw aspects of this woman, she never really revealed herself to the audience. That was my main problem with the show – it felt disjointed and I wanted more narrative. I wanted to get to know this woman but she kept the audience at a distance. I was a little bit disappointed by the show.
Reviews coming soon for Twenty Ten, THEATREclub’s ambitious retelling of the year and Talking Shop Ensemble’s Do You Read Me?