Deirdre Kinahan’s freshest piece of work, Tempesta, has been unveiled at the old Pavilion Cinema, or ‘the Pav’, at Patrick Street during the Cork Midsummer Festival, rekindling the festival’s knack for resurrecting spaces that have always existed. In the now retail establishment which doubles as a bar and a late-night café, the grandeur of the location was a gamble for Tempesta’s producers, but it was a worthy one. Further, the dominant themes of the play align impeccably with the historical and architectural significance of this site, dating back to 1921.
The narrative centres around the perennial love between two youngsters who are grappling with their feelings, a conventional tale on the surface. However, when viewed through the lens of their tumultuous era, their romantic feelings tussle with the pressing needs of societal justice and the looming political disturbances in Europe.
Both the male and female characters, grown-ups and youngsters alike, grapple with their aspirations and ideals. Ellie Rosen is the one who still clings to the grimy streets of Clanbrassil Street, in Dublin. Louis Doyle fuels his zeal with a thirst for love, equality, liberation, and legacy, as he voices in 1937. His fervour takes him to the Spanish Civil War, reminiscent of other Irishmen’s journeys, armed with his rosary beads and grenade in a single trouser pocket, eager to introduce socialism back to Ireland.
Regardless of the sheer volume of letters Louis sends to Ellie, the geographical separation gradually morphs into their disparity. Being Jewish with her mum’s panic-stricken escape from Odessa in mind, Ellie views Dublin as a haven of customs and organisation. Here, she dreams of constructing her own miniature Jerusalem, complete with designated prayer times, routines, and a slot for idle banter. She eventually bows to her kin’s demand for a prearranged marriage to a jeweller residing in Hamburg during Louis’s extended absence, a choppy plot transition even for a location as peripheral as Clanbrassil Street could’ve sensed the plight of Jews in Germany come 1938.
The account is of such a scale that it could justify more than the given 75 minutes, particularly considering the abundance of Kinahan’s exquisite prose to enjoy: upon opening a pointless letter from Louis, Ellie vogues the words in her mouth as if they were smooches. Despite the rhetorical excess, the wavering strands of a misjudged relationship are held delicately intact; a unique talent indeed.
With Molly O’Cathain’s staging placing the audience in close proximity to the unfolding drama, we are privy to the visible perspiration attributed to the strenuous roles, enacted with both conviction and transparency. The bursts of activity comprise dancing, hurried sexual endeavours, and a table which serves as the central action point, from which aesthetic models such as the redbrick terrace Ellie cherishes in her hands emerge.
Standing as the relentless Louis is Naoise Dunbar, counterbalanced by the playful Ellie portrayed by Stephanie Dufresne; effortlessly encompassing both worryingly assured agility and character presentation, imbued with deep, touching authenticity.
Accompanying the show, Marc Atkinson Borrull’s direction, Steve Wickham’s original music composed for fiddle, guitar and the enchanting bodhrán, binds the scenes together, providing an emotive soundscape that echoes warmly the combined expertise of the entire cast, crew and playwright.
Tempesta will continue until Sunday, June 23rd, forming a part of the Cork Midsummer Festival.