Gandini Juggling at Sadler’s Wells: Seven ways of smashing crockery
The trailer and title – SMASHED – strongly suggest one should prepare for an evening of deliberate, sustained, methodical, ingenious, artistic and acrobatic crockery smashing. Do. Not. Watch. The. Trailer, lest, like me, you end up feeling Gandini over-promise and under-smash.
Crockery does have a walk-on part at the end of the show, but smashing it is the least polished and creative act of the nine-strong juggling party: teacups and teapots are flung across the stage or distractedly let drop instead of being caught after some mild juggling. We never expect jugglers to drop anything, so we are supposed to be entertained by such subversion of expectations. There is some logic in it, but no magic. This ranks lowest in theatrical prop smashing theory, languishing at #7.
Far more satisfying are the prior juggling vignettes. These give us a team of perfectly synchronised artists, who can make apples look like they are bouncing in mid air: the handling so fast that we hardly see them touch human hands. They do a lot more besides flinging apples in the air and therein lies the wonder. They juggle as they move in foursomes in choreographed baroque-like dances. Or produce a chevron formation and, where the two-lines intersect, each acrobat imperceptibly continues their juggling by stealing the passer’s apples, but you cannot be quite sure if you are seeing it or just imagining, such is the skill and sleight of hand. There is some gentle miming and some clowning but, for the most part, there is winking directed at the adults in the audience, suggesting this show is not for kids alone.
Both lighting and music background are perfectly judged for each comic turn or adult undertones. A memorable combination is Stand by Your Man, by Tammy Wynette, accompanying a sequence where two kneeling and crawling female artists had apples being juggled over their backs by sitting male performers.
Could more have been made of the smashing? Without a doubt – but Gandini have a great idea full of promise for further development. And for the record, theatre prop smashing theory does not exist. If it did, it would rank smashing crockery as follows:
#1 – one character startles the other – crockery dropped in fright
#2 – character needs closure – crockery smashed marks end of relationship or moving on from the past
#3 – character angry at another – crockery hurling at partner common denominator of relationship crisis in several cultures
#4 – characters celebrate unique event – crockery smashing at weddings sadly abused stereotype to signify certain nationalities
#5 – character extremely clumsy or frail – crockery dropped to amplify visibility of tremors not otherwise perceptible from the back row – now discredited trope to imply disability
#6 – characters smash all because they can – ubiquitous in counter-culture performance theatre of the 60s and 70s – has not lasted the test of time
#7 – characters casually smash objects audience have paid to see being handled expertly – Gandini please don’t do this again.