A closed wardrobe and a lit keyboard was the opening state for The Making of a Woman, a piece which aimed to tell the story of a man discovering his feminine identity through the clothes he wears and the heroines he admires. The barely-there story was loosely strung together by recognisable Rodgers and Hammerstein show tunes, including large musical sections from The Sound of Music, South Pacific and The King and I. Grégoire Aubert seemed to fulfil his performing dream by belting out his favourite show tunes, but not to the benefit of the audience. The singing, although not dreadful, was coarse and pitchy, and resulted in some cringe-worthy moments.
Glitzy dresses, shoes and props were used to decorate Aubert’s singing but did not add anything dramatically to the structure or content of the performance, which lacked both plotline and character. I was initially excited by the thought of quick changes and clothes being animated on stage, but I was soon disappointed. Costume changes were slow and awkward and inconsistent as to whether or not they were done in front of the audience or offstage. Changes that were hidden from the audience, behind the large wardrobe left the auditorium in dead space, except some loud piano playing to attempt to cover it. These sloppy changes were heightened even more by a flashing torchlight from behind the wardrobe and the odd body part of Aubert accidentally popping out from one side. However, changes on stage were not a lot better. There was a particularly painful silent episode where Aubert put on a pair of silk gloves, only to take them off a minute later. Also, I couldn’t help but feel constantly nervous that six-foot Aubert would stumble out of his stilettos or trip up his dress. He may have sang ‘I Have Confidence’ from The Sound of Music but his physical movements were far from it, as they were clumsy with lots of melodramatic arm waving.
Compliments go to Ellen Campbell on the keyboard, whose bright playing accompanied the performance. Perhaps, a more obvious interaction between performer and musician would have been interesting to explore, as well as, the creation of a musical score that could run throughout the whole piece in order to eliminate the awkward silences. Audience members could openly see the page turning of the sheet music from the keyboard downstage, and for me these white pages became a marker for how much longer I had to endure.
A stronger story and character is desperately needed in this musical. Favourite show tunes are not enough for a piece that aims to say so much about identity, sexuality and discovery. The Making of a Woman has a great Vintage poster design which may seem alluring to a hip Brighton audience, but unfortunately the show itself was self-indulgent and slow.
