44. The Rape of Lucrece - Swan Theatre

I know that when people talk about completing the Shakespeare canon they’re not normally including his poetry, but hearing that the RSC were creating a version of the Rape of Lucrece accompanied by music was nothing short of irresistible. I didn’t really know what we would get, only being vaguely familiar with the poem, not having seen anything like this before and having no idea who Camille O’Sullivan was – I certainly didn’t expect how powerful it would be (or that we would be sharing the theatre with half the Romeo and Juliet cast).


O’Sullivan proved to be a truly incredible performer – carrying the entire production, impressive enough on it’s own but combined with the sheer emotion she put into it, it must have been exhausting. Her ability to draw the audience in was stunning and to hold them, throughout there was utter silence as the entire audience was engrossed. I was also impressed by her physicality, which was both very controlled and very emotive – whether it was beating out the rhythm of a heartbeat with her feet or folding despairingly around herself – her body providing almost as much to the story as her words. The way she switched between the characters was nothing short of astounding and had no right to work as well as it did, managing to capture all of them very vividly. I was particularly impressed by her embodiment of Tarquin – his lust and desire was in places uncomfortable to watch. On top of which her voice, obviously, was absolutely beautiful, deep and raw – though truthfully I preferred the acted to the sung sections – though it was the two working together that created the hypnotic illusion.

The staging itself was very simple but effective, mostly ignored and then even more powerful when suddenly used – like the moment Lucrece broke, throwing the piled papers across the stage. My favourite though was the single pair of white shoes that stood in a corner of the stage, representing Lucrece, particularly in the final moments as they faded out in a single spot – a final lingering moment of our sorrowful heroine. The rest of the lighting was also glorious, the Swan continuing its fine work, always adding and accentuating the emotion of the moment.

Most of all though, what I loved about this was that the combination of Camille O’Sullivan’s performance and Shakespeare’s words made this beautifully lyrical – and highly descriptive, the images woven were so vivid that with the bare staging not being a distraction you could see clearly what was happening in your mind. And throughout it was beautiful and horrible and deeply moving.

 (neither of these pictures are from the event, alas, but they'll do)