One egg cup on the shelf, one tin mug, one knife, a game of Solitaire. Such are the trappings of a lonely life. On stage is a sparse home, washed in grey dust, the light a specific shade of dingy. A weary body gets home from work, pulls off heavy boots, strips to saggy underwear. His head, though, is covered with a knobbly mask of thick clay, like a gargoyle, with a pinched nose and tiny eye holes. It’s an alienating presence.
This is the work of Galway-based company Brú Theatre, led by director James Riordan (performed as part of MimeLondon, a descendant of the London International Mime festival). As the title suggests, there are no words, bar a final poem in Irish voiceover, on the experience of exile. The inspiration behind this odd, but oddly affecting piece of theatre, is the story of the Irish navvies, who emigrated to Britain in the 19th century to build railways and other infrastructure, and the lives of forgotten migrants, yearning for home.
