In great deeds, something abides. On great fields, something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls generations that know us not and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! the shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls. (Joshua Chamberlain, 1889) Im No Hero is Ava Hunts one-woman show telling the stories of Irena Sendler and Rachel Corrie, ordinary women who undertook extraordinary acts for those they didnt know. Inspired by an article in the Guardian about Sendlers nomination for the 2008 Nobel Peace Prize, recognising her efforts in rescuing over 2,500 Jewish children from the Warsaw Ghetto during World War II, this show blends her story with that of Rachel Corrie, the American peace activist crushed by an Israeli bulldozer on the Gaza Strip. Using sound and video both historical footage and newly-shot material to complement her performance, Hunt bases her script on verbatim material from both women. This show is a commendable undertaking. The extraordinary heroism of Sendler and Corrie deserves every pair of eyes and ears it reaches, and in inhabiting these women Hunt poses the inevitable question of motivation what prompted them to such efforts on behalf of those with whom they had no obvious connection? For better or for worse, Hunt never ventures a definitive answer, preferring instead to allow the stories of their lives to tell their own tale. Similarly, the show does not strike the easy emotional chords of tragedy, but tells the story in simple, plain terms, almost matter-of-fact in its rejection of the heroic stereotype. Im No Hero has some truly striking images. Its opening video sequence, where historical remembrance through archive footage gives way to violent reality, is a bold and effective opening. Throughout, video sequences bring a horrifying immediacy to the piece, reminding us of the moments of individual bravery which together form the greater struggles of history. This is a tremendous show, a profound and insightful gem amidst the many tangled weeds of the Fringe. Hunts performance is compelling, imbued with a rare empathy and compassion. F.W. Maitland, perhaps the greatest of all English historians, wrote that through history by slow degrees the thoughts of our forefathers, their common thoughts about common things, will become thinkable once more. Here, by slow degrees, Hunt allows us to think once more the thoughts of those we regard as heroes, who in their own minds thought common thoughts, but in ours performed unthinkable deeds.
