WHEREVER they go – in this case, to the big indoor space of the Tramway – Quarantine of Salford tend to put up a marquee, and create the feeling of a community get-together; and the result is a unique and delightful form of theatre that sits right on
the cutting-edge of debate about what we mean by performance, but is still as unpretentious and accessible as a good community show.
So this time around, Quarantine assemble a cast of four elderly women from Salford with stories to tell and wisdom to transmit, and three teenage girls who form a loud, metallic rock band. They're assisted by a live parrot, a giant pile of soft toys and a bagful of toy furry rabbits that squeak and hop around the floor. And for 80 minutes, in a deceptively informal but in fact tightly-structured sequence, they reflect on their lives, ask searching questions, lash out a few songs and share a cup of tea with the audience.
What emerges is a show in which people who don't fit the frame of showbiz stardom – the old people and children of the title – talk not about their social problems, but about the joy and sadness, poetry and philosophy of their lives; there's also a strand of reflection on how a gentler, less exploitative relationship with non-human creatures is part of human happiness. This is, in other words, one of those memorable shows that stop us in our rush through the days, and asks us to reflect, across the generations, on the real texture of our lives; and it's perhaps a sad comment on our time that we need theatre to do that for us, when once we might have shared endless hours like this with family and friends.
The full article contains 309 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
