Physical theatre meets performance poetry in strong solo from Australian performance poet Scott Wings
This article is from 2014.
’I am all words and nothing more,’ or so declares the aptly-named Australian performance poet Scott Wings at the start of this strong, concentrated solo show.
He’s speaking in character as Icarus, the lad from Greek mythology whose manufactured wings melted when he flew too near the sun. Wings himself is much more than words, although they do figure prominently here. Dense, richly rhythmic language streams out of him, and sometimes at a manically active rate.
Wings is also quite a powerful, buoyant physical presence. You want to watch and listen to him, even when you and your fellow audience members are crammed with him into a stiflingly hot little space. He manages to make such less-than-desirable conditions work, crafting a lively, intimate piece about fathers and sons, longing, loss, masculinity and depression.
Is any of it autobiographical? It may well be but Wings isn’t explicit about the sources of inspiration for his troubled, contemporary Icarus. And that’s okay because, despite his making perhaps a few too many facile references to pop culture, you want to believe the wiry, sensitive young rascal.
C Nova, 0845 260 1234, until 25 Aug, 9.25pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£5.50–£7.50).