The human condition of displacement - review

The intimacy of Sophie's Space at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, was enhanced by the small number of spectators, as well as the minimal approach to the setting, for the performance of Exodus launched last week in Malta prior to its European tour. More than a performance, this work focuses on its being a project. This implies that what was presented to us last week was only pointing to and accomplishing a fraction of the scope of the intentions of the project whose vision is pointed towards "forming a veritable European Theatre".

In this respect it is with particular intention that a significant number of the project workers point to parents who were foreign to the lands in which their children were born; to dislocation as part of their recent family history; and to an uprooted sense of belonging. This is relevant to the project they have collectively and specifically come to express which is based on trajectory: not just the sense of displacement that is signified by exodus, but an emphasis on a movement towards another reality, rather than a movement away from a reality.

The performance used this understanding as the underlying thread that wove together the representations of four lives that experienced such a trajectory. Each walked on stage, passing first through a wooden frame, in order to face the audience, standing against a deeply red background, to share with us their account of their intimate involvement with the subject: Imer Deliu spoke as a war veteran from Kosovo, Eric Nyandu Kabongo spoke as an irregular immigrant from Congo, Attilio Nucera spoke as a member of a Greek minority from Calabria, George Sammut spoke as a member of the Maltese maritime squadron.

Their accounts were interrupted at various moments for a fifth speaker to virtually take the stage as live connections came through from Polish actor and director, Maciej Adamcyzk, equipped with webcam, from Jerusalem, the Promised Land and the symbol for exodus. Aurally, the space was filled with the music of Nelida Bejar who used her computer to amplify and extend the sounds of her violin live. For most of the performance, the sounds of violin were audibly stronger than the vocal projections of the performers. It was as if it was not that important for us to actually hear their words, as it was also assumed that the audience would not directly understand these and therefore they were also translated and projected on a screen to the side of the stage. It was as if the significance of these performers was their presence itself, live on stage, and with it their ability to recount their individual stories; for these were not "actors", as we were informed by director Björn Potulski before the commencement of the performance, these were "'real' people, presenting their real life stories". They still needed to perform, however, framed by the stage itself, there to recount a story. Eric Nyandu Kabongo used his body well to illustrate the dynamics of his journey, moving in very subtle ways beyond the stillness of the other actors. He showed us the fear, the tireless walking, the sway of the water, the vastness of the open sea in front of him and his companions while crossing from Libya to Europe.

The particular combination of stories chosen to be presented here was particular in the vastness with which it explored the theme of Exodus. While Mr Adamczyk was there as testimony to the very real and current dynamics produced by the idea of a promised land, he also reminded us of the extensive duration of this concept and hope. Mr Nucero also reminded us of this as he confessed his deep sense of Greekness that goes back to the Greek colonists in southern Italy in 800BC, and sense of alienation in Calabria. Mr Sammut's presence, as he recounted his experiences in numerous patrols and search and rescue missions, reminded us that there is always a moment of meeting between travellers and people already living in promised lands.

Together, these performers reminded us that displacement is as old as humanity, but the suffering that forces displacement carries a fresh anguish that is as real to each traveler as it must have been to Moses.