‘The Secret Consul’ in Limehouse

Proving too hard a trend to resist, theatre group The Wedding Collective has jumped on the ‘secret event’ bandwagon this summer with their guerilla adaptation of Gian Carlo Menotti’s The Consul.

Housed in Limehouse Town Hall the company has streamlined Italian-American Menotti’s first evening-length opera into a 60-minute work with no interval titled The Secret Consul.

Taking advantage of the Grade II-listed building’s layout director Steven Tiller transforms the entrance hall into a waiting room for asylum seekers wishing to see The Consul. It is here that the production begins with members of the audience being mildly interrogated by The Consul’s unpleasant secretaries – have your ID at the ready and enjoy trying to catch them out with a witty response.

After a throaty introduction from the cast (both professional and amateur), who do exceedingly well to disguise their roles as they mingle with the audience before the performance kicks off, we climb the processional staircase and enter the first-floor main hall.

It is here that we are welcomed by a small musical ensemble and invited to sit on the well-worn floorboards. There are no cushioned seats here, just props and floor space on which the audience is ushered round as the story of Magda (Lesya Aleksyeyeva) and her family unfolds.

Magda’s political activist husband has been arrested by the secret police, and with a sick baby and mother to care for she goes to The Consul convinced that he will help – but is instead faced with contemptuous paper-pushing secretaries that revel in her misery and that of other immigrants. Magda waits patiently at first, signing forms and ticking boxes. They all wait, signing forms and ticking boxes, waiting, wanting, waiting.

However as the wait drags on Magda is driven to an exasperated state and considers suicide. It is at this crossroads of choosing between life and death that Aleksyeyeva shines. Her voice is at its most powerful, although unfortunately the acoustics don’t serve her vocals justice, and as she unscrews the lid on a pot of pills pain and uncertainty are convincingly etched on her face.

One of the biggest pitfalls of this experimental piece of music theatre is that the break between scenes bring moments of confusion as the audience wonder where they are to move to next. This could be deliberate, perhaps the audience are meant to feel like lost immigrants, but in the moment it simply feels muddled.

Despite this niggle, The Secret Consul is a gripping and enjoyable production that ends all too quickly and with less than a handful of performances left I urge you not to wait to book your ticket.

The Secret Consul was performed at:

Limehouse Town Hall
646 Commercial Road
Limehouse
E14 7HA