There is something arresting and yet exhilarating about hearing the door click shut in a theatre space. Of course it almost always happens just before the performance begins, but we as the audience already consumed by an imaginary world, or more crudely, a rustling lolly paper, are scarcely aware of it. For Brigid Jackson, the solo performer in the debut work by Adena Jacobs and Brigid Jackson entitled 'This is for you', escapism is not an option. The ‘everyday’ immediacy in Jackson’s presence as a performer, looking unapologetically at her audience as they walk in and take their seats immediately subverts any conservative notions one might hold about the relationship between a performer and their audience. When the door clicks shut the audience is brought face to face with the potency of the theatrical contract, which we have casually and therefore dangerously assumed.

‘This is for you’ is inspired by the photography of the late Francesca Woodman. This seminal American photographer is revered for the oeuvre of self-portraits she took between the ages of thirteen and twenty-two. She tragically committed suicide in 1981 at the nascent age of twenty-three, cementing her place as a ‘martyr’ of twentieth century art. Her work is an exploration of her budding female form and she often appears to be ‘evaporating’ into carefully constructed environments. The subject matter is a powerful instrument in the hands of the precocious Jackson who marches unashamedly, yet gracefully away from convention armed with bold questions about the desires and responsibilities of human beings within and beyond the walls of the theatre.

Jackson illuminates the space with physical explorations that bring her body into sharp focus. There is a methodical, yet colloquial organisation in the choreography of her movement that is quickly reticent of the way a child might demonstrate newly acquired discoveries to a parent. The unsettling feature of this temporary relationship is that the actions Jackson performs push the boundaries of what is comfortable to witness. As the audience, we are close enough to see the breath pushing relentlessly against her ribcage, the beads of sweat forming on her back wandering carelessly between her buttocks and the red welts that form on her breasts from clothes pegs she mercilessly attaches to herself, and yet we are no more than strangers.

The most interesting aspect of the piece is Jackson’s investigation of the ‘evaporating’ body in Woodman’s photographs. Jackson operates various non-theatrical lighting and sound devices littered across the space, which allow her to be in control of what the audience sees. With these tools she distorts her body by manipulating angles and engaging repetitive movement. The effect is highly hallucinatory. As an audience member one cannot help but continually blink in a desperate attempt to keep her in the room, the action naturally mimics the shutter of a camera. The capturing of these images is so demanding on the unconscious that at times the imprinting feels trance-like, capturing both the breadth and limitations of Woodman as legacy.

Directorially, Jacobs’ sense of lyricism is enchanting and her understanding of the cumulative image adds both sophistication and complicity to the piece. Kelly Ryall adds delicacy to the atmosphere with his sound design, which trembles in the space, fearless in both its abrasive and pacifying qualities. The vigilance of the entire creative team to the investigatory nature of the piece means that it avoids political clichés and sublimation leaving space for fragility and intimacy.

In the same way that Woodman’s pictures keep us looking because we are never really sure what we are looking for, 'This is for you', with its ephemeral quality keeps us waiting, because we are never really sure what we are waiting for. In this state Jackson and Jacobs remind us of the impatient and occasionally fatal struggle of the human being to transcend liminality. The constancy of Jackson’s gaze on her audience means that this is by no means an easy piece to watch in the same way that accidentally snapping open a child’s jewellery box and watching the ballerina spin around in perpetual motion can be difficult. That being said, as the door clicks open at the end of the performance, one cannot help but feel some hesitancy to leave. 'This is for you' asks a lot of its audience, but upon reflection, this is probably because we are so rarely asked.

THIS IS FOR YOU

Venue: La Mama Theatre, 205 Faraday Street, Carlton

Dates: 30th April to 11th May

Times: Wednesday & Sunday at 8.30pm, Thursday, Friday & Saturday at 6.00pm

Tickets: Adults $20, Concession $10

Bookings: (03) 93476142