Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who died in 1979, is one of the many female scientists whose name is less well known than it should be. Astronomy, the field she worked in, was so male-dominated she had to leave her native Britain and move to the US simply to be able to practise it. She swapped one Cambridge for another, and became the first woman to head a department at Harvard.
As a graduate student, she made the paradigm-shifting discovery that stars were made of hydrogen and helium, rather than iron, as was commonly held. Early on in The Lightest Element we see a 25-year-old Cecilia defending her ideas to the leading expert of the time, Henry Norris Russell. Julian Wadham plays him with an indulgent air: he seems supportive, yet still expects Cecilia to pour his tea. But the more she explains, the more riled he becomes, until he explodes: “Don’t you know when to be quiet?”
It’s a wonderful scene and arguably the play’s most dramatic moment. From then on, we infer, Cecilia’s career was one of perseverance, underpaid and underappreciated. Playwright Stella Feehily focuses the bulk of her narrative on Cecilia’s bid, decades later, to become Harvard’s chair of astronomy. Maureen Beattie’s steely portrayal presents a woman who may have learned when to hold her tongue, but who has also learned how to hold her space. She has, to use one character’s words, the “requisite iron”.
Annie Kingsnorth provides counterpoint as the preppy Sally, a student journalist sent to interview her with an ulterior motive. Sally’s creepy editor boyfriend (Steffan Cennydd) wants a scoop that will out Cecilia and her Russian husband to the House Un-American Activities Committee. It provides some entertaining moments between the pair, particularly when Cecilia drops her guard and introduces the young woman to Polish vodka.
But the jeopardy never quite bites, and Feehily leans heavily on the journalism device to download Cecilia’s biography. Sarah Beaton and Johanna Town’s screen and light projections offer an elegant complement to the spare staging but can’t quite break the arid, academic feel of the production. Sally’s journey is nicely marked – from eating ice cream sundaes when we first meet, to her final meeting with her boyfriend who notes her drinking “hard liquor”. But Cecilia’s story never quite takes to the skies. Nevertheless, she persisted.
• At Hampstead theatre, London, until 12 October
