Laura Murphy depicts her life journey as a thinker and extraordinary aerial artist
A Spectacle of Herself is a solo show written and performed by Laura Murphy and directed by Ursula Martinez. It examines Murphy’s internal life with themes of gender, mental health and the concept of space. It has some memorable and striking moments that resonates well with the audience, but in general the show lacks a profound and coherent agenda, instead presenting a myriad of disjointed and seemingly random topics that are scattered everywhere in the performance.
As Murphy mentioned in her performance at the very beginning, she has recently finished her PhD thesis. Out of curiosity, I googled Murphy’s PhD thesis and I do find it online: “aerial work can be used as a means to interrogate politically charged subject matter, issues and debates, by subverting, deviating from, and engaging with its historical associations of ‘showmanship’ and virtuosity.”
To some extent, A Spectacle of Herself is indeed an embodiment of her thesis, demonstrating that aerial work is far beyond virtuoso showmanship. She climbs the aerial rope three times throughout the performance. The first time, she exhibits pure virtuoso craftsmanship. The second time, as the show thickens in its gender and sexuality debate, she appears as a “hot hunk” that all women admire and crave in a ’90s Coke commercial – revealing her sexuality as a woman-lover. She climbs on the rope with different techniques, and then drinks the Coke in a “manly” manner. Forgive me if “manly” is the wrong word to use, as both Murphy and her partner Ruby (slightly hinted as a transgender woman) refused to be addressed as “lady”. It is the curse of English language – or more precisely the legacy of Christianity – that seems to trap all of us in such binary. Murphy also extensively explores her body and female orgasm that cleverly links her contemplation upon how different philosophical approaches see space.
The third time she climbs on the rope happens when the show comes to its end. With Jen Roxburgh’s light design and the joint efforts by video and film artists Ben Glover and Holly Black, the performance crescendos into a powerful, even ferocious scene where the soundscape overwhelms the scream of Murphy, drowning her in increasingly larger fonts flash across the screen. Her rage is palpable yet intimately familiar – a rage comes from nowhere but at the same time deeply rooted in a neoliberal-patriarchal-capitalist world. And then comes the clown on the projection screen, blowing a balloon that gradually becomes a warm womb gently enveloping Murphy’s naked body. The balloon inflates and eventually pops, while Murphy starts her final journey on the rope, naked. The scene is uplifting, both physically and metaphorically.
The show gives me a sense that Murphy has just finished her PhD thesis and all these theories and philosophies she has read are still wildly growing in her mind, intertwined with her intricate emotions. The candour and honesty of her performance with such rich detail is something must be appreciated, yet at times, it feels as if she is parading her learnings, turning the show into another site of her doctorate viva.