From 23 to 27 July, the Drama Department hosted the UP Drama Student Festival on Hatfield campus. It consisted of a selection of performances and workshops compiled by esteemed lecturers and dedicated students. One of the most moving performances was Lost Souls.
Lost Souls was performed in the Drama building’s quad, which is placed perfectly under a tree sprouting pink blossoms. The set was simple: a baby girl’s clothes and sonogram photos hung on a line as the backdrop, accompanied by a pink blanket covering a cradle in front of the stage. It was peaceful, revealing nothing of the tragic performance to come. The performance was in the form of a “choreopoem”, –a combination of music, dance, poetry, and song. It was inspired by Koleka Putuma’s Collective Amnesia, a collection of poetry exploring grief, memory, joy, and healing within society and oneself. The narrative follows the loss of an unborn child in a marriage and the contrasting effects this has on both the husband and wife.
The performance started with wedding vows being spoken by Marcíano de Oliveira, who played the husband, and Callia Konidaris as the wife. These were repeated over and over, followed by gentle phrases conveying love and affection between the couple. A soft melody played in the background, and the couple’s bodies were constantly intertwined in an intimate dance. The dialogue was short and simple; however, the phrases that were said carried great meaning. It was clear that there was a deep sense of love and commitment between the two. The trust between them was shown through a brave dive Konidaris made into her husband’s arms. He caught her and they embraced, clearly smitten with each other. This was followed by Konidaris touching her stomach – an acknowledgement of a child growing inside her and a foreshadowing of the sorrow to come.
Suddenly, there was a change in the mood of the music and dance. The atmosphere turned from a gentle sharing of love to a violent exchange. The couple seemed to be constantly throwing each other around and crashing into one another, as if they were being ripped apart by the dark music echoing around them. Then after a silence, the vows spoken softly at the beginning were repeated. They started to speak no louder than a whisper, and gradually grew in both volume and force. Eventually, the couple was yelling the vows at each other with aggression and anger. Konidaris stormed to the photo line and ripped at the hanging sonograms, tearing and crumpling them in anger.
Konidaris finally acknowledged the life of the unborn child. Other than the subtle motioning to her stomach and the sonograms, no mention of the pregnancy had been made. She referred to the baby as “it”. In an angry outburst, she yelled out the regret and resentment she had towards the unborn child. Clearly broken, one could assume that the unborn child had been lost during the pregnancy. She sang a soft lullaby filled with hurt and anger as she reached into the cot and pulled out bloody sonograms. In shock, she looked at her hands drenched in blood and then attempted to clean them on her white clothes. The contrast of the bloody stains on her bright white costume was shocking and upheaving. As Konidaris walked offstage to the left of the audience, her crying could still be heard and her presence clearly still lingered. This left the audience feeling uncomfortable, before they were abruptly pulled into the drama unfolding on stage.
De Oliveira entered and proceeded to reach for the same bloodied sonogram his partner had left in the cot. His sorrow was much more evident. He cried, referring to the breaths his “little girl” could have taken. He sang the same lullaby, but with more sorrow and pain. Konidaris seemed to avoid the life that the unborn child already held, while de Oliveira was clearly mourning the life lost, the life that could have been. The couple returned on stage together, both stained by the blood of their lost, unborn child. Konidaris pleaded to her partner, “If I am enough, catch me.” He let her fall. The performance ended with de Oliveira standing over the area where Konidaris had fallen. This was a heartbreaking image compared to the softness of their relationship at the beginning of the performance.
Lost Souls was uncomfortably heart-rending. A love-filled commitment was torn apart by the loss of an unborn child. Each partner dealt with their loss in different ways, but neither was able to heal. A mother so broken she turned to breaking apart the little life that once grew inside her. A father still so deeply in love with a future that would never breathe life that he became blind to the present. A member of the audience had a tear rolling down her cheek, and silence filled the space that once bustled with laughter, testament to the superb performance de Oliveira and Konidaris gave. One was unwillingly drawn into the heartbreak of their loss. The loss of three souls.
