The Toronto Theatre Review: Shedding a Skin
By Ross
“I would rather be anywhere. Anywhere else in the world, right now. Then right here.” A telling beginning to an incredible creation, as we crawl in and engage with the uncomfortable confinement of Myah, played to heartbreaking relevance by the wonderfully gifted Vanessa Sears (Obsidian/CS’s Is God Is). She sits, boxed and diminished inside a white rectangular space that looks like it could be closed up and stored away in the back of someone’s closet, like a pair of old shoes that we aren’t wanting to wear but not ready to throw away just yet. It’s not clear why, at first, inside Amanda Wilkin’s captivating one-person play, Shedding a Skin, as she presents like she has it under control, but we also know not to fully buy into her assurances. And we are intrigued by this complex figure, leaning into a person who seems to want to be invisible within her work cubicle, eating leaves for lunch, and trying, without much desire, to fit into the social norms of the workplace formula. But it also doesn’t appear to sit well on her skin, as she is also working, simultaneously, to resist all those office hypocrisies and posturings.
It’s a framing that feels completely honest and current, this complex creation as written dynamically by Wilkin (Recognition), as she also doesn’t want to be ignored, lumped into a photoshoot as proof positive that the company she is invisible within is doing good work on diversity and inclusion. Provocative words, these days, and inside Myah, a seeing-red storm brews and burns, one that ignites her anger and frustration, causing her to throw punches and racial criticisms that land hard. And get her ushered out the door soon after. It’s a forceful beginning, filled with sharp turns and exquisite questionable attitudes crafted from privilege and connection. Yet, as the walls of this cellblock expand by internalized force, Nightwood Theatre‘s Shedding a Skin draws us in and takes us down a tightly wound road towards enlightenment and acceptance through community and bonding, held together by a captivating performance by Sears and enriched by the thoughtful clarity and wisdom of director Cherissa Richards (Crow’s Red Velvet).
Shedding a Skin has a lot on its mind as we watch our heroine, dressed in telling tones of green and white, costumed by Ming Wong (Crow’s The Wrong Bashir), break ties with her conflictual attachments, like a boyfriend who doesn’t understand the needs of his partner at a time of crisis, or parents who fail to see her completely. But without their fractured disconnect, this journey forward into what she first believes is the temporary housing in a sad little room would never have happened. Yet, her hand has been forced, into the home of Mildred, an older Jamaican immigrant woman and pensioner, who, after looking her up and down and realizing her own misunderstandings, guides her in and opens Myah’s disconnected eyes to the importance of community, connection, and how to find comfort in your own skin. It doesn’t come easy, as this is no sappy Hallmark channel movie of the week, but the sometimes harsh Mildred finds her way in, reminding the sad Myah to open her eyes to her inner desire and capabilities.
There is a powerful history that is discovered, boxed away in the dark, of all those activists and black heroes who came before, that, when unpacked, slowly hits home, radically and emotionally pure. The white walls begin to open up as the surreal voiceover interludes, beautifully projected by Laura Warren (Obsidian/Crow’s seven methods of killing kylie jenner) with a sharp sound and composition by Cosette “Ettie” Pin (Factory’s Hypothetical Baby), get closer and closer to her little white box designed superbly by Jung-Hye Kim (Studio 180’s Chinese Lady) and beautifully lit by Shawn Henry (Young People’s Theatre’s Truth). Those emotionally brilliant video voiceover formulations speak of all the radical reframings that spill out, giving meaning to togetherness, and the ability to change the world around us, through moments of bravery and compassion. They seem to get closer and closer to that shoebox set that was, at first, so confining, but has now become ever so wide open. “Connection is an act of rebellion“, we are told, and in Shedding a Skin, we feel the power of those Piccadilly Circus wings, that bow, and that arrow. They stand up for our inclusion, our care, our love, and our sense of community, infiltrating our hearts and souls with a rebellious handbag energy I didn’t know I needed. Just like Myah, it soaks us with its beauty, and we are forever changed by it.
