Bakehouse Theatre, Wed 1 Dec
Courtesy of some well-deserved
grants and funded residencies Stephen House set himself the exciting and daunting
task of writing a performance monologue for each of three different cities. He
has completed and performed the works on life in Dublin and Paris, and now
unveils the final part of the trilogy – the Ajoona Guest House. Set in a
dingier part of Delhi, the tale has House sharing memories of a long
association with the guesthouse – “a dump with oodles of charm” – and India.
The Ajoona Guest House is something of a refuge for those
Westerners who were smitten and subsequently trapped in a strange world of
mysticism, drugs, and ultimately desperation. House introduces us to some of
the desperados who will never check out, and shares the unlikely joy he finds
in the company of a neighbourhood child beggar.
Often bleak, even harrowing, the tale is a sad one but it’s
the kind of sadness that accompanies an understanding of what life is truly
like. Life may be full of broken souls but even they have created moments of
great joy and beauty. The trick is to realise that the wheel turns, that joy
and pleasure are just as ephemeral as pain and suffering, that nothing is
forever, and you can only hope that if you ever reach this point of
understanding you are still sufficiently whole to appreciate the past and
present with gratitude, and have enough strength left to pull yourself away
from the darkness.
It has been said before but Stephen House is a wonderful
story teller. The Ajoona Guest House is perfectly paced. His economy with
words, obviously well-honed by the poet side of his creative self, is very easy
to listen to, and gradually draws you into an intriguing tale that soon has you
experiencing something else below the narrative; that sensation of being there,
in the story, and wondering what you would do? How would you feel?
Beautifully presented on an almost bare stage with few
props, The Ajoona Guesthouse is both simple and profound, entertaining and
instructive. Bravo Stephen House.
(This review also published on The Clothesline.)
