So, you’re wondering, what is The Gulliver Project about? Well. That, faithful reader, is a very challenging query to address. Ostensibly, it’s a play about memory, loss, and leaving at the wrong time. Equally, it’s about visceral emotional experiences, close familial bonds, and TS Eliot quotes. Essentially, it’s a big, beautifully choreographed mindfuck.
Characters’ identities here are often of incidental importance, as placement on stage takes precedence. Actors dance playfully, bleed profusely, whirl about maniacally in wheelchairs. At times, dialogue is delivered simultaneously by a nine-part ensemble cast, creating a verbal orchestra. It’s all hard to follow, sure, but aesthetically, it’s magic.
But the key to comprehending The Gulliver Project lies in the venue itself. The play was created specifically for the courtyard at St. George the Martyr Church, located on John just north of Queen. Visually, the place is stunning, with corridors, towers and grass all visible, open to the night sky. At first the church feels like a terrible choice, as street noise, sirens, and passersby shouting into their KRZRs are all easily overheard and quite distracting. Soon, though, you realize it all just adds to Kadozuke Kollektif’s carefully constructed chaos.
Photo courtesy of summerworks.ca.