This anthology on women’s identities is as eclectic as it is powerful, and as it should be – the experience of womanhood is not monolithic, and this multimedia performance explores the lived experience that seven different women face sensitively. Each story is closed with gentle care, giving the space for all these women to explore their vulnerability and stories to the fullest they can.
Split into seven distinct sections, each performer tells their own chapter. Sure, some were narratively stronger than others. These stronger chapters were often those that combined more than one artistic medium.
Callie Rose Petal’s musical performance combined singing and interpretive dance – it was a captivating peak of the show, to say the very least. It is an intensely emotional and haunting performance about the hardships of being a trans woman. The realities of this story hit the audience like waves washing over us all, and the storytelling is through the roof.
Scottish singer-songwriter Mairi Campbell opens the show with a strong and interesting musical take on creating art, leaning on folk style and emitting a certain warmth from the get-go. Her incredibly talented daughter, Ada Grace Francis, explores her own story about passing her driving test and navigating through adulthood. Alongside her mother, Ada Grace Francis’ singing voice and multi-instrumental performances often served as the solid foundation of the show. Their adaptability in mimicking the tone of each story is enchanting.
Kananu Kirimi reflects on her life spent on stage in a charmingly reserved fashion. Michelle Joyner’s monologue about struggling to cope with the pandemic and her son’s addiction is enlightening albeit slightly stilted in delivery.
Antoinette Cooper’s story concludes the anthology, it’s about growing up as a black woman and seamlessly led to a beautiful ending. An ending where all these women who come from completely different walks of life, come together with all their vulnerabilities in tow and stand tall, together.
She/Her is mindfully intersectional. The charm about She/Her is that it is wonderfully nuanced, it feels undeniably authentic – these stories mean something to the performers, and their passionate performances rub off on the audience too. Of course, one show cannot perfectly capture a universal experience of being a woman because that simply doesn’t exist – our personal lived experiences shape who we become. She/Her proves that in the most mindful and tender way possible.
For tickets and more information, visit edfringe.com