Review: Timestamp, EdFringe

A continuous slideshow of photographs of women of all ages plays at the back of the stage, some famous: Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Frida Kahlo, or Virgina Woolf for example. Others anonymous, in a relaxed domestic pose. Perhaps they are known to the performers, perhaps not: they represent real women everywhere. Accompanying the images is audio: women of differing ages and demographics talk about how they are expected to behave by society, as a woman, and how that has affected them. Both audio and image loop continuously before the performers arrive.

Karen Cecilia and Emilee Lord then quietly walk in, dressed similarly in black trousers and vest tops and gracefully remove their shoes. Cecilia operates a theremin to produce sonic verse, as Lord dances for the audience: slowly, and gracefully. This continues for some time: the testimony of the recorded oration being heard and afforded dignity by the performance generated by the pair. A live stream of Lord’s dance movements replaces the photostream at the back of the performance space.

Cecilia then moves forward to speak: addressing the audience directly. She tells of her history, of her family’s expectations of her and her mother’s passing. She is visibly moved. During this time Lord draws beautiful shapes on the floor in chalk: a women’s head becomes visible and she carefully and conscientiously continues to construct images which are livestreamed. Lord similarly tells of a family history of guilt, of failing to meet expectations, of difficult relationships.

Prior to the performance audience members were asked to write down what societal expectations they felt as a woman and how they were held back by this. For those that had given permission, their testimonies are read out reverentially by Cecilia as Lord continues to dance. When Lord taps Cecilia on the shoulder the paper is ceremoniously lowered into a vase of water to be swirled around, slowly disintegrating into fragments. Ultimately the water is then used to clean the chalk image from the floor, a simultaneously symbolic and practical indication of elimination.

This is a multi-layered performance, which uses a mix of creative techniques that begins with a sense of uncertainty, perhaps intentionally, aimed at unsettling the audience in order to create a deeper emotional impact. At times, it borders on repetition: the personal stories shared by both performers land with particular resonance, and it’s debatable whether a return to the dance-led sequence afterward is necessary. Nonetheless, Timestamp compellingly explores those pivotal moments in life: times when you take control, or perhaps only later realise their significance. Whilst each account is unique, shared themes resonate and it becomes a mutually supportive experience. Dignified and absorbing Timestamp is surprisingly moving and a reminder that little changes for women in society, across all demographics.

Created by: Karen Cecilia and Emilee Lord

Timestamp plays at the Edinburgh Fringe until Sunday 24 August.