Festival Palavas, Reflections from the Brighton Fringe
Penny Pound’s Big Palava is a journey through social challenges and lifestyle changes, with a foundation of comedic charm and raunchy physical performance. Masha Tiunova attended the show as part of the Brighton Fringe Festival, here are her reflections.Reflecting on recovery shows can be challenging. Having attended hundreds of recovery meetings, where the magic of real-life drama is created in each unique moment, going to a show poses certain questions: “Will I see and hear something new?”, “Will this show speak to me?”, “Will I find something that relates to my early recovery?” And, ultimately, “Is it an exciting piece of theatre?”
Penny Pound’s Big Palava promises “aspects of modern drag, old-school cabaret, avant garde puppetry and live musicians.” Had I seen that this is what recovery could be when I first started in Moscow over 15 years ago, I would have been amazed.To me, the average alcoholic/addict story goes something like: “I was drinking and using. I did terrible things… and now I’m clean and sober, I pray and meditate, and here’s my perfect life.” For someone just coming into the rooms, drinking wasn’t only the problem—it was a lot of fun (until it wasn’t). One of my biggest fears was that from now on, my life would be basically sad and boring.Big Palava is not sad or boring. It shows that your story can be different, and so can the way you tell it. You can tell it through movement, lip-sync, puppets and hoop, with a ukulele or a violin, as a clown, drag diva or poetess. Recovery doesn’t have to be straight and formatted – it can be queer and customised.The number of different acts offered by the Big Palava makes it almost certain that everyone will find something to relate to. It’s a tapestry of flashes and experiences, intimate yet ‘broad and inclusive’, like the path promised by the old-timers in recovery.
So many moments stayed with me. There was the rave with audience participation – “You’re not raving on your own, right?” Then the puppets, lip-syncing to Ren’s Hi Ren – “If only we didn’t have those voices.”
“I’ve never felt so alive and so dead!” said Florence – her words echoed by a performer in a plague doctor mask and a dress. I looked around at the audience. It was silent. And in a drag performance, silence says everything.
“Stay open to that unexpected arc,” offered a circus goddess.
And finally, there was Penny Pound’s ode to recovery, “How do I feel this good sober?”
