Lands of Glass

As director Annie Rigby explains in the playbill, the confluence of discovering Brendan Murphy's magnificent self-made glass orchestra and the possibility of adapting Alessandro Baricco's eponymous novel for the stage seemed too fortuitous to pass up. The result is sometimes fascinating, but not entirely successful.

The story takes place in the town of Quinnipak, where the eccentric inhabitants circle the local glassworks, the creativity of which feeds their dreams, often with destructive consequences. The slightly magical-realist plot encompasses an orphan's cruelly imposed destiny, a maddening musical composition, and the disastrous construction of a railway line that acts as an allegory for the human capacity to dream too big.

The glass orchestra itself, comprising a variety of enchanting, glimmering instruments, is so wonderful it almost excuses the production's flaws. Framed by purple light, its sound is otherworldly and beautiful, and it can be exploited so many ways that it never loses its charm or fades into the background. Sadly, the play does not match the tools it has at its disposal.

The cast performs well, if somewhat cartoonishly, but are let down by the loose, vague material with which they work. Despite the orchestra that acts as the play's centrepiece, the production mysteriously feels the need to pile on further technological gimmicks - loudspeakers scattered throughout the audience - which are not nearly as delightful. Still, a special mention should go to Beccy Owen, whose singing and character arc tie the production together, just as it threatens to fragment and collapse.