Hearing Things: The Ghosts of The Substation by Tania De Rozario

“Hearing Things: The Ghosts of The Substation”

Reviewer: Jemima Yong
Performance: 9 September 2015, 7pm

I sign an indemnity form – I understand they are not responsible if I lose something, I understand they are not responsible if I slip and hurt myself, I understand they are not responsible if I am frightened by paranormal activity and the baby in my womb decides to make a premature exit. Three company members lead me to my starting position, by the side of an alley: the entrance to the basement. “Here is a torch… I suggest not having it on all the time or it could ruin the atmosphere. You ready? Mind your head and remember to shut the doors behind you,” Soon enough, I am in darkness and it hits me – it is Hungry Ghost month and maybe I should have come with someone else.

Hearing Things is an experience that takes the form of a pre-recorded audio track designed to guide you on a journey through the Substation. Voices perform a weaving of stories, a cauldron of fact and fiction illuminating the warehouse converted theatre space through reported hauntings of its ghosts. Tania De Rozario, Terence Lau and Kamini Ramachandran have created an intricately crafted, gentle and effective stimuli for the imagination.

Attempted is a balance between the eerie portrayals of the spiritual world’s mystery with the harmlessness of the Substation’s resident ghosts. The visceral experience sharpens my awareness; there is a strong presence in negative space, be it paranormal or living. This tension in the atmosphere frightens and incites. As I proceed, I can feel a distinct drop in temperature as I walk from the basement into the backstage area, the tautness of yellow gaffa tape ascending the stairs reeks of human manipulation, I look at the creases on the sofa and I choose not to sit. There are little installations framing spaces, simple dressing, and isolated lights just out of sight. This is the beauty of site-specific work.

The audio track is composed with precision, it gives me space and time to look closer, it allows me the agency to move and focus my attention on what I choose. I oscillate between craving to see something I can’t explain to not wanting to witness anything at all. More than once I think about retracing my steps – not because I am afraid of what I can’t see, but because I am scared that there might be a human round the next corner. Isn’t it curious that at this point I am more afraid of other people than the eerie absence? The final act is gentle and we rest on a “silent thank you” to the space and its inhabitants.

A day on, I find myself watching the family dog bark at mid air, perhaps acknowledging the presence of my late granddad. Hearing Things has provided me the comfort I need to know that I am not alone.