Review: Taniko, Theatro Technis

Konstantinos Avramis and his theatre company Dispositif are a nomadic, experimental outfit, mixing physical and ritualistic theatre to deliver a political message. The places where this odd little piece, Taniko, thrives are those where the experimental side is given free rein. Cantillating chanting with spotlights in poetic Greek, apparently based on Bertolt Brecht, washes around us like a swelling surf. Some neatly related hand movements with stark black gloves, while Despoina Georga warbles an aria stage left, are largely unexplained but arresting and certainly engaging.

Regrettably, that is a small percentage of the overall play. Eleni Niotaki, Marissa Farmaki and Lina Boti play characters with the same first names, all dressed in chic white crop tops and swishing parachute trousers. They slowly hang wine glasses from the ceiling as they debate – in a never-ending stream of conversation – their brother’s desertion, their mother’s illness and the fate of their gastronomic wine bar.

There are a few issues that mean it doesn’t quite make sense. Firstly, and depressingly practically, the surtitles just aren’t up to speed. We get simplistic and roundabout translations of the flowing speech; they lag at times and never differentiate between characters, so we never know who’s speaking in group sections. The lighting states flash rather alarmingly, with the house lights seemingly cycled through before any others. Avramis’ direction also keeps the three very static, blasting monologues at each other, mainly in an unmoving triangle. With no props and nowhere to sit down this makes sense, but humans are a notoriously fidgety lot, and this is simply not shown.

All of this, plus a blend of swelling poeticism sitting like oil and water with the gritty social drama, means we have a play of two sides, seemingly unconnected. Due to the lagging surtitles, the flashing lights and the never-ending prattle, we are confused about the very basics: who, what, when and why. Their take on gentrification is pretty extreme – perhaps the case in Greece after the financial crisis, but again there is little hint of when this is set within the smartphone era. A fiery group monologue with corresponding movement is impressive but likens the owners of this fancy wine bar to Holocaust guards and self-cannibals, which seems a little extreme even for the most passionate social warriors.

I refuse to cheapen my friend’s and my experience with the cliché “it’s all Greek to us”, but the confusion of the characters is very much mirrored in the audience. The bewildering women battle hate online, shifting family situations and the erupting opera and poetry, repeating “Den xéro/Δεν ξέρω” (“I don’t know”) multiple times; and walking away sadly, all we can do is agree.

Written and directed by Konstantinos Avramis
Assistant Dramaturge and Director: Eleni Niotaki
Composer, Musician on stage: Despoina Georga

The play was on for one night only part of the Voila! Theatre festival. The festival plays until Sunday 23 November.