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Stuart King

Review: AS LONG AS WE ARE BREATHING at the Arcola

By Friday, January 31 2025, 10:47 - Reviews -

A cloying pungency of lavender oil permeates the Arcola’s subterranean stairway (and your nostrils), long before you reach the playing area. As you enter, a man (Matthew James Hinchliffe) plays a calmly resonant percussion instrument, as though we are about to enjoy a collective massage. Our meditation on the Jewish condition begins with the reflections of an elderly woman Miriam (Caroline Gruber) who we learn survived her harrowing adolescence in Bratislava.

Caroline Gruber in As Long As We Are Breathing at the Arcola Theatre. Copyright Lidia CrisafulliCaroline Gruber in As Long As We Are Breathing at the Arcola Theatre. Copyright Lidia Crisafulli

As the audience is encouraged to give itself over to a state of group mindfulness, there is a tangible resistance from the critics assembled to review AS LONG AS WE ARE BREATHING, the dramatisation of Miriam Feeedman’s early life. As a collective, we are disinclined to audience participation and so the suggestion that we should close our eyes and listen to our breath, instantly irks.

But this reaction is neither borne of cold-hearted cynicism, nor a resistance to acknowledge the awful history of countless told, and yet more untold, harrowing accounts of Jewish persecution. It is instead, a response to the critic’s fundamental aim, namely to focus and assess whether or not a piece succeeds in being good theatre. Sadly, in this case, the adapted memoir (Meditations on Survival and Beyond by Diane Samuels) makes for an insubstantial play, proving neither especially entertaining nor revelatory.

As we all know, Central Europe, once it became engulfed in the mania and barbaric efficiency of the Nazi killing machine, stopped counting its victims. Here, by means of a vase of 8 red carnations, the young Eva (Zoe Goriely) counts the disappearance of each family member — either escaped or captured — as her childhood freedoms diminish at the hands of the German war machine which subsumes Bratislava.

Hidden for much of the period, the story reveals how the family of 5 girls and 1 boy were hidden by relatives and the building manager, much in the same way that Anne Frank was concealed. Miriam recounts elements of the tale with motherly grace, the essence of her charm undiminished by the passing years and memories of the devastation wreaked on her family and race. Rather than bitterness and recrimination, through her lifestyle of yoga and teaching, she urges forgiveness and understanding.

In a world of instability and chaos, such a message is both commendable and much needed. But it is also sobering to acknowledge that mankind has rarely demonstrated such a profound inability to learn the lessons of the past, than at this precise moment. When the real life Miriam (who is now in her late 80s and had been sitting in the audience), rose to her feet, she represented the epitome of resilience and positivity. Let’s not lose sight of such beacons in the days ahead.

Directed by Ben Caplan, the production runs until 1st March.