"A child sitting on her mother's lap jumps in fright at an unexpected flute screech."
Sitting motionless on either side of the stage, pianist Danae Killian and husband Gotthard Killian stare at each other blankly at the beginning and end of each three acts.
With grand piano pieces played in disconcerting minor keys, and off-kilter flute and cello parts wailing throughout, the pair conjure up a thoroughly spooky ambience in the old church hall. Deeply dramatic spoken-word monologues from Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath's poetry cast an even darker gloom. A child sitting on her mother's lap jumps in fright at an unexpected flute screech. She's not the only one. Spectral and eerie indeed.