Table follows the story of a family’s heirloom, a table made in 1898 by David Best to commemorate and celebrate his wedding night. The audience is privy to more than a century of the stories of Best’s descendants, and their scattered lives, carved into the same table and into the stage by director Kim Hardwick’s stellar cast.
Heirlooms are not solely a material object. They are figurative, anything that is passed down through the family. Pain and loss are handed down. Memories of what has come before and what gaps exist are passed down. A table and the idea of an heirloom represents companionship in the truest sense. 'Companionship' derives from 'com' and 'panis' – to break bread with. So many meals are shared by a family on their table, and so many more by generations of that same family. With this shared experience, too, comes the shared capacity for grief, as we are moulded by our family and grapple with their significance.
Hardwick’s direction carves a very serious and sombre tone into Table. It's slow and precise, the point sometimes coming across a little laboured. Martin Kinnane’s lighting design feeds the stage’s weightiness. Nate Edmondson’s sound design and composition are beautiful in their own right, but also dig deeper into the play's slow melodrama. It’s uncommon to see a production dig its heels into earnestness in this way, and the play risks catching itself out with this approach. The audience is, however, always won back by the acting and design elements working together.
Each of the nine actors offers serious commitment to the ritual of family and to Hardwick’s direction. Stacey Duckworth’s Sarah is the polite twin sister who grows into a missionary, and a mother. She falls through life’s paces with vigour and is exciting every moment she’s on stage. Charles Upton adds a vital lightness with his natural performance and moments of ease and grace. Chantelle Jamieson, too, at times works against the gravitas embedded in the text and shines. Danielle King and Julian Garner are the standout performers, especially when acting opposite each other as grandmother and grandfather. King’s believability and carefulness when mopping a floor and entertaining a frenetic grandchild is a gift. Garner’s roughness and sometimes uncomfortable ‘manliness’ expose an insightful and heartrending softness.
Table is a magical text, and there are real moments of greatness in this production. In an age where irony saturates art, some might feel like the sincerity of Hardwick’s vision is a blessing as it rejects constant metanarratives. Others might be uncomfortable by the consistent gravity of the piece. Its themes, and their exploration, have edge, and make it a night at the theatre that you’ll need to talk and talk about.
