A well-staged, dynamic production that questions how far we can or should self-determine, and the difficulties and duties of love.
The acting was subtle, understated and engaging, and the audience was confidently and directly addressed. Charlie Sellers, as Annie, was particularly strong, bringing gentle humour to her passages about work in the fish industry, and successfully conveying the frustration of being ‘fine’. Seemingly a paradox, Sellers used Annie’s character to explore the feeling of being trapped in a state of stasis, even whilst being in a ‘good’ relationship, a ‘good’ job, in a ‘good’ home. It was an articulate and honest inquisition into that catch-22 so familiar to everyone: of wondering ‘what if?’ and ‘is this it?’ Bare Skin, then, is a story about discovering the story of one’s selfhood, and about reclaiming and redirecting that self.
Blue-green lighting complimented and cultivated the atmosphere (admittedly aided by the production’s earthy location), and the original music, played live on an acoustic guitar, was Laura-Marling-esque, as it interspersed behind and between speeches with delicate ease. Bare Skin On Briny Waters is a well-staged, dynamic production that questions how far we can or should self-determine, and the difficulties and duties of love. It asks for ‘a dawn filled with stories instead of silence’, and is a vindication of the power of speaking those stories aloud.
