INTRUSIONS by Jean Ng and Joavien Ng

“Dreams, and what to do?”

Reviewer: Kei Franklin
Performance: 31 March 2016

I had a dream last night. I was in an aquarium in London with my husband who was actually my mother. We went to the library and a Spider Queen stole our pretzels. They might have been pretzels, or popiah – I couldn’t tell. My husband began ‘caw-cawing’ like a crow and put some items into a bag as if I were leaving him forever: a cucumber, a lamp, Oreos, an oboe, and a plucked chicken. That’s when I started to feel a tingling sensation. It was the Spider Queen crawling into my left ear.

… Are you with me?

Intrusions is a literal exploration of Jean and Jovian’s dreams. Two women, adjacent worlds, unaware of each other.

Are they two different people? Or one and the same?

Simultaneous dreams of a single person? The dreams of sisters sleeping side by side?

Wild objects populate the stage – dolls, puppets, a fish tank, a stack of concrete bricks, a drill – the space is a delicious-looking toy. The performers command the space, contort, sing, speak, and morph into all types of creatures and characters.

I find myself grasping for meaning, wondering whether there is a larger significance or purpose for performing these dreams in front of a live audience.

Is it simply a sharing? An opportunity to practice radical imagination?

Or simply a reminder to focus on singular moments and detail amidst the bizarre chaos or life?

Intrusions certainly has moments – fleeting and visually impactful tableaus that linger in my mind’s eye: Jovian parts her long black hair and wraps it through her toes, a chicken is beheaded, a red phone on a ladder rings.  I think about Dadaism, the Absurdist art movement, and Lewis Carroll.

There is an imposing rape scene – powerful, dominating, dark, inimitable – but it is dropped and we move on to parachutes and other dreams. I wonder without certainty if sex is central to Intrusions.

Do we have control in dreams? Are we performing in our dreams more or less than in real life? Do our dreams tell us about our souls? Or are we simply talking about REM?

I leave Intrusions with questions – sleepy, and hoping to wake with clarity.