Murmur – The Studio, Potterrow

Dominic Corr

Jun 3

Concept by Hanne Vandersteene, Mahlu Mertens and Stijn Dickel

Directed by Hanne Vandersteene and Mahlu Mertens

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Penetrating, often gentile whispers and Murmurs cause the grandest ripple of attention. Grensgeval, Belgium circus and theatre producers, capitalise on this, turning the adrenaline of circus and aerial movements into an immersive sound-based piece of theatre with a circular stage, one performer enclosed in The Studio, Potterrow space, as our acrobatic composer conjures a symphony from small speakers, wooden boom-boxes, and a few of those backpacks we've had sitting next to us.

A spiffingly well-dressed gentleman, Camiel, begins the piece by slowly building a world full of sounds, collecting them, and storing them for generations to enjoy the vibrations and stoked memories they entail. From their pocket, one might hear a purring cat or swarm of bees, maybe even cascading rainfall or a zooming vehicle.

Attempting to compose this cacophony of noise into something more structured and melodic, Camiel leaps, falls, dodges and soars around The Studio space, stunning audiences with their aerial feats and theatricality. Their response to the sound design is as enthralling as the audience, naïve and performed as if discovering it for the first time again. Initially, we are just witnesses to this sound-based performance, but suddenly the audience is involved in Camiel's journey, as the backpacks we're invited to wear begin to rumble of their own accord…

With a backpack of our own, the audience is immersed in the production – though there's a double-edged decision at hand as only some of them contain the required speakers, others merely weighted to simulate the impact. It's an immersive feeling to hear rustling bushes or whizzing engines blaring from the packs surrounding the audience to create an entirely enclosed space. The resulting tangibility of the show offers a new dimension for those sitting around but does stir some audiences to voice their lack of a speaker.

Distraction is Murmur's most significant drawback, one audience voice cascading another and falling out of sync with the audio, causing an interruption and much of the audience begins to lose the appreciation for the intensity of what is occurring before them. It's enough to remove sections of the audience from the momentum, and more vitally, one louder section can disrupt the audio nature of the production. With this, Murmur becomes more of an aerial feat showcase, the tightly designed audio and sound lost.

But the thrill and delight are difficult to deny as the rush younger audiences experience is as heart-warming as it is exhilarating as the heavy wooden speakers swing wildly overhead. The true talent is crafting something so complex, technically and physically, whilst making it appear almost seamless and, dare we say, simplistic. It taps directly into audiences' imaginations, crossing boundaries as the sound evolves into performance and physical vibration. Clean and exhilarating, but with intellect and manipulation of sound, Murmur is to be appreciated for its design but enjoyed for its charm and playfulness.