Horsing around
(Sunset over Drury Lane from her Queen Majesty’s Theatre: London, UK)
I meant to write a brief note on War Horse, a show I saw in London while I was there. Of course, I cannot really provide an image of it – flash photography in theatres is probably a hangable offence in England, or perhaps imprisonment forever, tucking those tiny spoons into the lids of the interval ice cream tubs. Instead of me living out that bleak future, you’ll have to settle for this photograph taken of the Drury Lane evening outside before the curtains opened.
I have wanted to see this show for years, but ticket availability and the sky-high prices were too discouraging. Since I had time on my side, I could book in advance and managed to secure a first row seat in the dress circle so my views were relatively unimpaired. The reason I’ve been so eager to see it is primarily because of the horses that are choreographed to bring the story to life. The horses themselves are life size articulated puppets flanked at all times by two or three ‘handlers’; one would operate the head with mouth and neck movements – embellishing the performance with typically equine neighs, whinnies and snorts. The second (as I remember) was responsible for the front portion of the horse’s body with hind legs, and the third puppeteer obviously handled the back legs and tail.
The puppets have been expertly engineered to convey the essence of movement that a horse delivers. They are crafted in a way that reveals their inner workings, yet solid enough to be convincingly realistic. They are really made up of a series of joints and cantilevers, resulting in a horse shape filled with curves, much like a preliminary pencil sketch might have. This sketchbook theme was continued from the set, the backdrop being a torn paper strip onto which various projections were played. I was surprised that the horse puppets could take the weight of a person; the actors were able to mount and ride the horses, exactly as if embarking in a real stable.
The most moving of all the techniques was a scene in which an officer on horseback was shot. For some of the scenes, the action was deliberately slowed to showcase the movement of the horses in motion. This battle scene was filled with stark, staccato lighting for the flashes of artillery guns and the dreadful sounds of modern warfare. As the horses and riders galloped toward the fray, the officer was hit in the chest by a bullet. To illustrate the shocking force of this attack, he let go of the reins, throwing his head back and flinging his arms outward (all in slow motion) and infantry soldiers on the ground lifted his outstretched body squarely from the saddle. They walked him rearward, in blinding white light and he was forced cleanly out of the saddle and directly backwards, as if the bullet’s force had propelled him off the back of the horse and onto a heap on the ground. Of course, one has to accept that he was being held by other actors, but to me, it became beautifully executed split second death that lasted perhaps a half-minute. It was horrifying and sensational and intense. I’m not sure that the story was as worthy of praise as the actors and horses themselves but the spectacle and the gravity that the horses possessed was an astonishing feat that genuinely I had not believed possible.
– Today Rosie is visiting friends in Dunbar, UK –
