SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2024



BIAF 24: Aurora - A Modern Myth
Maria Connolly (left) and Meghan Tyler (right) in 'Aurora - A Modern Myth'.
Photo: Ciaran Bagnall

"I think that I shall never see / a poem lovely as a tree."
-- Joyce Kilmer

I've spent a little while trying to come to terms with what Dominic Montague's Aurora - A Modern Myth (hereafter Aurora), a Prime Cut Production directed by Emma Jordan, is about – and it really is, in every way possible, about a tree. I've previously implied that human life can be imagined as a tree, with the bark representing the head and torso, the branches being the arms and legs which gradually weaken as they reach out further and further, and the trunk being the heart of the story, the emblem of a physical and emotional burden to be either carried or shared. And now, I see all this substance in both Aurora as a play and its central character Cass, a most complicated and remarkable soul given a performance of staggering weight by actress Meghan Tyler. A performance which is the highlight and the centrepiece of a richly layered and visually distinctive piece of work.

Cass, we see, is "friends" with a tree. For this tree, like Cass herself appears to be, is "lonely". Such a scene, with a large and fascinating tree dominating Ciaran Bagnall's set, already gives us a heavy form of isolation which feels more than deepened by a skilful contrast narrative jumping between the present (or past) and the future (or present). The former starts out as hopeful aspiration, the latter a cold, hard truth where Cass is bluntly questioned by the appropriately monochromatic, projected face of Maria Connolly's interrogator. It would appear that Cass's journey hasn't turned out quite like she hoped it would, and we're about to find out how and why.

Projection is everywhere to be found in Aurora. The passionate projection of the very by-the-book interrogation, where it is pondered, among many other things, how a human can possibly collaborate with a tree. The projection of Cass's own feelings onto her history with the landscape itself, the sense of belonging she gets from the tree, and her attempt to protect everything there from being mined for gold – symbol Au, derived from the Roman Goddess Aurora, the title of this very play. The projection from the camera that, Blair Witch style – and Tyler is very Heather Donahue in expressing anxiety gradually infiltrating apparent confidence – records Cass's journey while another Aurora, none other than Borealis, beams away in the background and helps attract followers to her cause. The technical projection of Joseph Catney's animated talking badger (!), voiced cuttingly and hilariously by Connolly, onto the corner of the tree and the consideration of what it just might have to say about all the goings on around them. And the seemingly distant projection from Cass's friend Drew, played by Thomas Finnegan – someone whose apparent apathy to the situation provides the opportunity for another fascinatingly alternative voice.

Thomas Finnegan (left) and Meghan Tyler (right) in 'Aurora - A Modern Myth'.
Photo: Ciaran Bagnall

All of that, and there's still the complications of Cass's relationship with her brother Conn, played by Conor O’Donnell, to think about. If Cass feels cast away with nature, and Drew is putting his own picture on things, Conn is attempting to portray command – a suit-wearing sort aligned with the corporate enterprise who seeks to mine the land. So much is going on here in a short space of time, and director Jordan deserves very high praise indeed for ensuring the tones of this powerful narrative remain adroitly blended.

Within Aurora's fascinating blend, desires for discovery and friendship in nature arise, along with a lesson in how they can be countered by the unforgiving pain of family betrayal and elements beyond personal control. This is character and circumstance as transition, strength of the self and ambition, all of which are broken down and explored by Montague and the cast with tremendous empathy and endeavour. The reality and potential futility of any pursuit is thrown out in the open along with the beauty of its visually appealing interludes – the journey which can consume the soul and the peace that can calm it, the possible sheen from the foundations below contrasted with the definite, if sporadic, shine from the lights above. I guess it's like the Bard kind of said - all that glistens isn't necessarily gold, as we've been reminded in an admirably ambitious and rather astonishing accomplishment.

Simon Fallaha

Aurora - A Modern Myth runs at The MAC, Belfast, as part of the Belfast International Arts Festival 2024 until Saturday November 2. For more information, and tickets, click here.