Kraken by Trygve Wakenshaw - Soho Theatre - London International Mime Festival

Trygve Wakenshaw - Kraken

Originally written for Exeunt.

There is a recurring theme to the hilarity of this darling, disgusting, light-hearted solo show from mime artist, Trygve Wakenshaw. It is in seeing the inevitable next step in his actions, wishing it wouldn’t happen, and watching it happen regardless. 

His entrance sets the tone, in which his gangly limbs make their way towards a stool with his clothes on, while his existing, identical clothes are attached to puppet strings. The strings are not quite long enough, and the only solution is to leave his clothes behind. To describe the scene as “cheeky” is true to more than one connotation.

Besides the stool and these clothes, the stage is bare and Trygve's inventiveness is endless. Forget logic, forget necessity: through mime alone, we journey from a galloping horse, to a unicorn, to seeing Trygve swallow the unicorn’s horn. We see his innards fall out of a hole in his side, then watch as he cooks those innards, and as the sound of the cooking conjures up a hissing snake. He doesn't even have to ask: suddenly, the audience create the sound of a snake charmer keeping the snake at bay, controlled by a loop-pedal at Trygve's feet. This is all accompanied by a sweet little voice exclaiming “Ouchy” and “Oh yeah” and “Aaah!”, a face full of expressions and command of his free-falling physicality that mark him as an addictive performer to watch.

The words are minimal, and when no words come despite setting up a stage mic as if he is about to speak, he mouths, “I’m a mime!” with all the shrugging shoulders to suggest, “Well what did you expect?” There is a sense that Trygve has been flung onto this stage, been expected to perform and is simply making the best of it. As such, his performance sits between self-aware and self-defining, and between a modesty and boldness that means he can get away with clambering over the front row to kiss his audience members. In fact, he is welcomed with open arms.

Trygve trained in clowning under the school of Phillipe Gaulier. In an interview with Gaulier in 2001 by Dominic Cavendish, he describes of his practice that “People have to find a way of being beautiful and surprising.”” As a piece of theatre, Kraken embodies these attributes in droves. The seamlessness by which each little scene blends into the next is as remarkable as the act itself, with all the flair of a magician, self-deprecation of a classic clown and an odd elegance to his darting, awkward limbs.

It’s just brilliant. Tryvge may enter on puppet strings, but we are the puppet as he controls the volume of our participation, whether or not the stage is lit, and where on his body we might kiss better his stab wounds from the unicorn horn. We go voluntarily, willingly, into Trygve’s world, and it is a welcome relief to simply bask in the silliness of it all.

Kraken is part of the 2015 London International Mime Festival. 

http://sohotheatre.com/whats-on/kraken/