Nestled in the bowels of the large, modern Hampstead theatre building is their downstairs venue, which seats only around 80 people in a really versatile space. For this show it's set up so that we face the other half of the audience with the stage between (I'm told this is known as a traverse stage).
The Blackest Black is billed as an unconventional love story between a highly driven professional astronomer, Martin, and Abi, an excitable, slightly unhinged artist. The set is simple, decked out as a functional and organised control centre for an observatory which we soon find out is based in an Arizona desert.
The play starts slowly as we see Chuck, a technician at the observatory methodically setting up the equipment while looking glum but focused. As he switches on monitors and machinery he places a CD of low key Americana into the stereo. Abi enters the room and quickly transforms the atmosphere appearing fickle, chaotic but slightly charming. At this point we have no idea whatsoever why she is there. Indeed she is clearly out of place- a young artist seemingly stationed at an academic/scientific institution, surrounded by what appear to be polar opposite personalities. As it turns out, the joke is that she's on an Arts Council funded placement to explore the art found (or hidden) in astronomy.
The first half of the performance was certainly better than the second, keeping me engaged throughout, though the second half had its moments. One of the most memorable scenes of the play was in the second half: where Abi and Martin create a piece of abstract art together which begins awkwardly but transforms into a powerful and aesthetically impressive scene.
I have always found myself floating between the two spheres of life that we call "art and "science" that are so often separated. I think that we often feel a need to compartmentalise life in order to make sense of it. I hear people talk about how science can be 'dull and soulless" or that the arts are inconsequential or even a waste of time. I also find people like to place a barrier between the scientific and the spiritual which is probably rooted in the same predisposition we have to polarise arguments and boil them down to a single issue. In reality, all of us exhibit our own creative flair, or spiritual understanding of the world whether we like to admit it or not. Its what makes us human, and in my opinion, what makes life exciting. At times science can be beautiful and thrilling; art can be measured and methodical.
An interplay between art and science is clearly what writer Jeremy Brock brings to the fore here; its not exactly subtle. The main characters are clearly presented as polar opposites demonstrating that sometimes, opposites attract (and cause a few fireworks). One of the stand-out features of the play is its set design - Oliver Townsend demonstrates the personalities of our two main characters in the two sets that are used (with some impressive work clearing the stage and transforming it into Abi's studio/digs during the interval). The sound design used here is also a treat: we hear a huge telescope move above us and listen to atmospheric music during some of the more poignant moments of the play.
Of course the art/science debate has been brought into the theatre before in different guises but in this case, the real strength isn't always the (often quite witty) script but in the simple but effective sound and set. I didn't really engage with either of the main characters, Martin or Abi, but it didn't seem to matter due to the subtle pace of the play and intimacy of the venue.
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