Focusing on those left behind, Cyn is about South Wales mining communities that lost heart. Told by a young company with live music, there is much to sing about.Summary
Rating
Good!
In the final week of this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, the intimate Mint Studio at Greenside on George Street was packed to capacity for the first performance of Cyn by Nawr ond Wedyn Theatre Company. The audience was happily herded into the space like sheep from the South Wales valleys, and then all body shapes and ages squeezed together as a makeshift community gathered in a solitary pub.
This allowed the writer Sam Rees and director Seren Davies to immediately evoke the immersive and welcoming environment of a tiny village hostelry, albeit run down, with stools, tables and a corner bar draped with a large Welsh flag. Random barrels and props add to the makeshift and strangely authentic atmosphere of the place: Wales in 1995. Period photographs hang pegged to a string washing line to echo corporate flags now found in pubs, and hint at the nostalgic past of a mining community.
Emyr, played by writer Rees, is the son of a miner, and now, 10 years after the mine closed, he sits bitter and isolated. When Simon (Charlie Muskett), a privileged young English traveller, runs out of petrol, he is forced to spend time there.
What follows is essentially a two-hander as the narrative moves from malevolence, and ‘in jokes’ spoken in Welsh, to an understanding of class, exploitation and what freedom means for both characters. The director, Davies, doubles up as Mary in the past narrative and a colourful offstage voice as Emir’s wife in the present. They effortlessly embody the stereotypically strong, silent and stalwart woman. Rees also plays Emyr’s father as a mining maverick of the village, dying in 1995 and keen for his son to escape the burdens of the pit.
Rees is charismatic and engaging, but at times uneven with energy shifts, and there are moments where the other characters are opaque, serving his almost-monologue. He has a fine voice, though, and first performance adrenaline will even out for the remainder of the run. The time shifts were clunky at times, and the transitions felt cumbersome in such an intimate space.
There were still well-pitched scenes, and the gig sections are glorious. The music is unashamedly sentimental and nostalgic as the audience is encouraged to sing from printed song sheets. Musical director Jed Kain competently sings and plays guitar, plus there is a bonus live cellist and trumpeter casually sitting in the audience. Everyone present relishes singing Max Boyce songs, and all the working-class pride associated with brass instruments emotively kicks in. There is no reason why this uneven, flawed, well-worn play of miners forgotten should still move us to tears, yet it does.
Nothing new here from this young company of recent University of Warwick graduates who were awarded the Creative Practice Award at the end of the year. They specifically wanted to avoid telling the story of the miners’ strike by focusing on the communal loss, the grief and the feelings of those left behind. This feels contemporary, and it is authentic, raw, and needed. In the old spirit of the Fringe, it feels vital that new makers can still afford to come and learn their craft at Edinburgh. Anyone who can successfully get an audience to sing wholeheartedly together at 11.35 am, especially Hymns and Arias by Max Boyce, and particularly in a sweary pub, has succeeded in that remit. It is patchy, yet still much to be Balch about.
Sam Rees: Writer & Performer
Seren Davies: Director & Performer
Jed Kain: Musical Director & Performer
Caitlyn Bailey & Ethan Delcroix: Musicians
Cyn runs at Greenside @ George Street as part of the Edinburgh Fringe until Saturday August 23
