Pip Utton is a self-styled "strolling player," a point he emphasizes by noting that he has performed in venues "ranging from London’s Royal Albert Hall to Prague’s A Studio Rubin; from Chicago’s Theatre Chopin to Mumbai’s Sophia Bhabha Auditorium; from Edinburgh’s Assembly Ballroom to Horningsham’s Village Hall." He has become an institution as a solo performer on the modern fringe festival circuit. It’s fitting, then, that this man, who espouses the tradition of wandering theatre troupes from a bygone era, should now turn to The Bard for his latest monodrama.
A man tormented by hindsight, full of emotion, rage and tearfulness
Utton first appeared at the Prague Fringe in 2008, and this year, he performs the world premiere of his adaptation of Shakespeare’s great tragedy, King Lear. While he may not have Lear’s “fourscore and upward” years, the 73 he has certainly add to the credibility of his remarkable performance. If Romeo requires youthfulness, Lear demands the weight of years and a lifetime of theatrical experience—along with stamina. In the intimacy of A Studio Rubin, we are as close as possible to the actor, who can hide nothing from us. And Utton doesn’t want to. He invites us to join him on yet another of his journeys, which, he says, are fuelled by his imagination.
To explore King Lear in the span of an hour is a huge undertaking, but Utton rises to the occasion. He remains faithful to The Bard’s words, occasionally adding a thoughtful aside. For his solo show, he juggles the scene order, initially presenting Lear in a state of madness. Over time, we come to understand that senile dementia has slowly taken hold of him over the years. He still remembers the decisions he made but is now immersed in regret. He incredulously laments how he was duped by the false affections of Goneril and Regan, whose subsequent actions exposed his errors in judgment. He also bemoans his rash decision to disinherit Cordelia.
Utton portrays a tragic figure—a man who once nobly wore the crown he gave away and now wanders aimlessly, with a circle of flowers on his head and royal robes reduced to the simple attire of a mendicant. He tells the main story, delivering the great speeches and turning points as flashbacks, like a man tormented by hindsight. Full of emotion, rage, and tearfulness, he always gives words their full weight, respecting Shakespeare’s meter in a poetic performance.
He’s taking Pip Utton: King Lear to Edinburgh this year. If you want to witness a master of his craft in action, this is the show to see.
