Words by Bengi-Sue Sirin.
Edward James Doherty was born in Glasgow…
So begins the part fictional, part biographical Specky Clark, the latest offering from maverick choreographer Oona Doherty. Edward James – aka Specky – was her great-grandfather, whose life was upended at age 10 when his mother died and he was moved to Belfast to live with elderly relatives. It is the 1940s; Specky must earn his keep, bring home the bacon, and the only option is the local abattoir. His new life is full of confusion, alienation and grief for his mother – poor Specky.
This is the biographical part that guided along the hour-long show through snippets of voiceover. But the magic, the bizarreness of Specky Clark is drawn from its fictional elements. Doherty is masterful at characterisation; the tiny Faith Prendergast embodies the timid and owlish Specky with ease, and the two much taller, elderly relatives are absurdly clucky, tutty and breathy with marionette-like movements and a really hilarious voiceover. If you’ve seen ‘The Triplets of Belleville’, this tableau reminds me of the elderly triplets and the bug-eyed grandma. It’s my favourite moment of the piece!
It is set on a desolate Samhain night when, in Doherty’s words, the ‘veil has been lifted to worlds and parts of us we didn’t know were possible.’ For starters: when Specky is about to kill his first pig, time freezes and the pig comes to life, speaking to him. This is actualised ingeniously by giant, pork-pink reams of fabric that hang from the ceiling, which a pink-trousered dancer emerges from. It was dark, odd and silly; much like that 1991 film Delicatessen. Pigs are a huge theme in Specky Clark. Another reference that comes to mind is the artwork of Francis Bacon – he’s done a couple of dead pigs including ‘Figure With Meat’, and let’s just say that those artworks have just as much in common with the aesthetic of Specky Clark as Bacon’s surname.
Later, Specky is alone in the abattoir. He lets loose for the first time in his miserable day and dances, unhindered and unwatched. Or so he thinks…. Turns out that same pig is indeed watching, and is convinced Specky is the key to opening the Samhain portal between the two worlds! To ham-up (pun intended) the pagan visuals of the portal scene, the rest of the dancers join Specky on stage, parading in sort of mystic spirals around him, adorned in gorgeous, Maurice Sendak Where the Wild Things Are-esque costumes. There is even a devil! This section of dancing is bacchanal and woozy. Lighting changes induce old horror movie silhouettes to appear; dervish-like movements indicate a trance… Doherty does dark and weird very persuasively.
I do think perhaps the movement vocabulary could have been a little broader; but that being said, all the other elements were highly impressionable. The characterisation; the wonderful and eclectic soundtracking; the set and staging – all hit the same alternative-reality tone that would not be unfamiliar in a David Lynch film. I will remember Specky Clark as a piece that interacts with the uncanny in a really amusing and unique way. And for having one of the best titles of any dancework!