28 March
Beth Bowden sits on the floor of the Wardrobe alone, her hands submerged in a large glass bowl of water as she waits for her audience to become seated. In a four-part monologue she then explores themes of loss, grief, anger, joy and freedom in a moving testimony that links her spiritually and emotionally to her mother and grandmother, but also to any who have experienced chronic illness, either themselves or vicariously as a carer.
The first chapter of the piece – water – is at the heart of everything that follows. It encompasses ideas of threat, but also release. Bowden is most at one with herself when following the vast horizontals of an endless ocean, reliving the connection she treasured with her mother when walking clifftops or beaches – recapturing the spirit of the women in her family who have followed these trails before her.
Inhabiting what could be described as a personal ‘shrine’ in the acting space, Bowden is surrounded by the elements at the heart of her piece – water, in various lit containers, salt held aloft in small bags and sand – arranged like a wandering coast path across the floor. Behind her is a large screen onto which is projected her own film of her journey along the coast path from Somerset to Cornwall with which she occasionally interacts as though the screen is a portal. The sound of the sea is often a backdrop effect.
Bowden indulges her romance of the outdoors, but presents a different persona when recounting the experience of caring for her chronically ill mother. She pulls no punches when it comes to her experience of government failure, in particular to its attitude towards disabled or infirm people, most vividly exposed during the pandemic. More widely, she bemoans the stats that reveal longer diagnosis waiting times for women and the steady undermining of a benefits system that can fail to recognise the ‘invisibility’ of chronic illness.
Getting out, alone, on her beloved coast path, injustice and the anger are the initial drivers, but not for long. Somewhere along this enchanted walk come other feelings, literal carefree joy for instance, the sheer freedom of being in the company of the sea, conjuring the sweetest of memories. Bowden’s expressive face conveys both playfulness and poignancy, capturing the imagination of the audience, some of whom are wiping away tears of recognition perhaps, that this life we’re living needs tenderness if it is to mean anything.
Right of Way is, in part, a celebration of the natural world and its healing qualities, something that the programme notes herald as a key component to personal wellbeing. And there are links to online creative community ‘Coastal Creatives’, offering as they describe, to help empower people to discover new paths of self-expression while celebrating the beauty of local landscapes; and to the South West Coast Path Association’s Coast Path Connectors project which aims to open up coastal walking to new and diverse audiences.
This hour-long meditation on what it means to exist, to reclaim a sense of happiness in the face of adversity, will live long in peoples’ memories – Bowden’s gentle wake-up call to cherish the landscape we inhabit and build life-enhancing connections and memories with one another while there is still an opportunity, is intimate theatre at its most compelling.
★★★★☆ Simon Bishop, 29 March 2024
Photo credit: Lydia Christafulli
