serene, and at times tumultuous, but always emotional
This piece felt more like stepping into someone’s memories than watching a traditional performance. A Symphony of Flesh and Bones blends film and live presence in a way that’s serene, and at times tumultuous, but always emotional. Emulating how many of us feel when facing the existential questions that Flesh and Bones proposes vividly.
The story draws on Juliet Ellis’ family, particularly her dad and brother, and looks at the ways we use our bodies to tell stories about ourselves. Her dad was a world champion bodybuilder and her brother used to be a cage fighter, so there’s a strong focus on physicality and how we rely on strength as a kind of protection or identity. You see footage of them at different points in their lives – younger, stronger, full of potential, and then as they are now – and that contrast is quietly powerful.
The film plays across multiple screens, and Ellis sits in the centre of it all, responding to the footage and offering commentary as it goes. Taking full advantage of stage and intimately involving her audience. Her voice adds context and draws out the links between images. It helps anchor some of the more abstract parts. She doesn’t over explain anything, but what she does say brings a sense of intention and care to the piece.
The solo performance felt subtle but solid. She’s not acting in a dramatic way, more just holding the space and guiding you through it. It works well against the more layered and sometimes intense visuals happening around her.
I shall warn that this show is highbrow, and I can be humble enough to admit that falls outside of my wheelhouse, so unless you flirt with metaphysics from time to time you may also find yourself a little lost on the narrative. But even when I didn’t fully connect with what was happening, I still found it engaging. You don’t have to understand every philosophical question to feel the weight of it. The themes around ageing, identity and loss of control are things we all come up against at some point.
Visually it’s beautiful. Everything feels intentional and carefully put together, even if the pace is slow. It gives you space to reflect rather than pulling you along with a clear story. In otherwords, it’s a ‘thinker’ and it gives moments of peace to ponder the big questions before launching you deeper into Juliet Ellis’ clever rhetoric.
One thing I appreciated was how personal it was without being too self indulgent. You can tell the work comes from a deep place, but it never feels like it’s trying to force an emotional response. It just presents these images and ideas and lets you take from it what you want.
I wouldn’t say it’s an easy watch. You have to be in the right mindset for it. But it’s the kind of piece that lingers afterwards. It doesn’t give you answers or tie everything up neatly, but it does make you think about how we see ourselves, especially as our bodies change and age.
Overall, I found it quite impactful, even if a bit abstract for my usual taste. Juliet Ellis did a really good job, both in holding the space live and guiding us through her world. And it changed the way I see my own body, making it a truly insightful experience.