(Peter Crawley’s article appeared in the Irish Times, 7/23.)
It may seem like a hiding to nothing or a mordant little joke, but Olwen Fouéré’s appropriately ascetic performance of Samuel Beckett’s late prose piece, Lessness – written in fragments and pieced together at random – seems to be an attempt to get the message.
Sharing a long white desk with an anglepoise lamp, Fouéré clasps her hands neatly, lets her steely eyes scan the horizon and listens intently as Beckett’s words are relayed to her through headphones.
It’s as though she is receiving a distant, decayed transmission from the end of the world. That, more or less, is the case with Lessness.
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