20/08/23

Assembly George Square (Studio Five), Edinburgh

The Wednesday Women’s Writing Collective (WWWC) is “a group of women and femmes dedicated to fostering creativity and uplifting marginalised voices”. In this piece, written by Diana Feng, Tegan Verheul, and Clarisse Zamba, their focus is on the anonymous artist’s muse, who – they posit – is a co-creator, and so merits some credit.

The Assembly’s Studio Five has a day job, spending eleven months of the year as a lecture theatre. On entering the small space today, I note that there are sheets of paper and pencils on the long bench tables. “Please feel free to do some life drawing,” the usher says.

On the stage, standing inside a large gilt frame, there is a woman. We pick up our pencils and begin to draw.

It’s a neat conceit, positioning the woman as an object, a thing for us to look at and attempt to recreate. It positions us as the artist too: we’re in charge of our creations, aren’t we? Except… without her, we have nothing to draw. Her style, the expression on her face, her demeanour; we have had no say in those. She is the image and we mere interpreters. (In my case, a pretty poor one at that…)

We never finish the drawings. Once the lights go down, the story begins. The woman steps out of the frame and bursts into life. She is Olivia Fernandez (Caterina Grosoli), a life model in the middle of a screaming row. Her sculptor boyfriend, Laurent (Luke Oliver), has found a new, much younger subject – and Olivia isn’t going to go quietly. As their argument grows more violent and heated, she seeks refuge in a stranger’s house. He – “Of course!” says Olivia, despairingly – turns out to be another artist, albeit a much quieter one. He’s Paul Patel (Sushant Shekhar) and he recognises Olivia: he’s seen her image captured many times. Before long, the two have fallen in love – but Paul is jealous and begs Olivia not to pose for anyone else. But how can their relationship survive if her wings are clipped? And, if his body of work depends on her body, how can he claim full ownership?

It’s an interesting premise and we find ourselves grappling with the thorny questions it raises for a long time afterwards. (What if the subject is a mountain or a piece of fruit? What if it’s a building – should the architect be acknowledged? Can we compare life models to musicians, in that a session player/occasional model doesn’t need to be named, but a band member/muse does?)

If the script itself isn’t as weighty as its themes, losing gravitas by centring on an improbable love story, it’s engaging nonetheless. Grosoli gives a sprightly performance as Olivia. Based on Fernande Olivier, Pablo Picasso’s muse, she is a bold, sassy young woman, and Grosoli imbues her with verve and spirit. I especially like the way that dance is used to symbolise her restless nature.

The play’s design is clever too, and I’m impressed by the judicious use of projection on the enticingly blank canvases.

The first thing I do when I get home is put a face to Fernande Olivier’s name, seeking her likeness in photographic as well as painted form.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield