YESTERDAY IT RAINED SALT by Bhumi Collective

“An Ode to the Sea”

Reviewer: Amanda Leong
Performance: 19 January 2019

Yesterday it rained salt by Bhumi Collective is about two men who keep connecting with and disconnecting from one another. It is also an ode to the alluring but terrifying sea. This is a moving and visceral piece, but it struggles to deliver a compelling narrative.

In the black box space, a man (Kaykay Nizam) sits on one of the seats. The sound of crashing waves plays over the speakers. Not much is happening onstage, so I just sit and watch. But imperceptibly, boredom slips into absorption and embodiment. Slowly, I feel my body mirroring the slowness and stillness of the man’s movement, and I can almost feel the waves lapping at my waist.

Azman (Soultari Amin Farid) appears on stage. In English, he describes the strangeness and distance he feels in a place that should be home to him. The first man, aware that he is being watched, replies in Malay. This exchange continues to occur across the stubborn distance in language. It is jarring to watch. The way the two of them move, too, is different – the first man’s movement is slow but strong, while Azman’s body language is tense and clipped, just like his words. At this point, I am unsure of their relationship. I wonder if they are equals, or different psychological manifestations of the same person.

Later, the bamboo poles are arranged in the shape of a boat, and the two men set out to sea. The tension and unease Azman embodied earlier seem to dissipate as the duo start playing childhood games with each other. Now, I think they might be brothers.

“If I could, I would want to die here. Everything I want is here,” Azman announces. Suddenly, the sea becomes choppy. Azman transforms into something else, though I am not sure what. Is Azman so affected by the sea that he is experiencing a psychotic episode? Or is the actor playing Azman now playing someone else? Powerful and mystical, he dances, smiling as the other man drowns. (I only find out during the post-show dialogue that Azman had actually become a sea goddess, but that reference was completely lost on me.)

The piece ends with an awkward transition into naturalism as the pair return to shore. It is only at this point that the two men are explicitly revealed to be father and son, and I learn that they’re trying to come to terms with losing a relative to the sea.

Throughout the performance, I felt myself being carried by and absorbed in the ebb and flow of each moment. Yet, the piece with its constantly shifting focus, never feels anchored in its characters and their stories. I was, in the end, mostly confused by the relationship between the two men, which was the centre of the piece.