THEATRE REVIEW: 愛, 媽媽 (Love, Mum)
16.09.2022 Herald Thetare, Aotea Centre
Cynthia Hiu Ying Lam
A woodblock note resonates, setting the tempo and tone, hypnotic and metronomic, moving us through reflections and inviting us, albeit temporarily, into her psyche, to be a part of her story. She inhabits a minimal yet cosy stage with hanging calligraphy, a few carefully selected garments, woodblocks, stools, a screen playing abstract animations that echo her thoughts, reimagine them visually.
The entry point into the universal is through the personal; certainly the case with Cynthia Hiu Ying Lam’s one-woman show 愛, 媽媽 (Love, Mum).
“So, I’ve been meaning to talk about my mother” an opening line, immediately familiar yet weighty, foreshadows themes of family trauma, and an urgent desire and need for communication. What ensues are monologues and dialogues with herself through recordings, explorations of diasporic cultural identity and the recounting of intergenerational stories while she stands as the conduit for her foremothers’ voices, “And then to find, that I am my mother, and my mother’s mother, and all the mothers that have come before me all along”
In an RNZ interview, Lam talks of her family’s input into the show: her aunt - the calligraphy, her father - the props sent over from Hong Kong, her mother - the delicate and melodic voice on the soundtrack. Her late grandmothers’ stories too, where she had to fact-check events only to find varying versions from each family member, details distorted. Not surprisingly then, creating the show itself became a process of healing and refreshing familial relationships, and even if the stories are not factually accurate, it is, as Lam states, the emotional truth that bears most weight.
“…creating the show itself became a process of healing and refreshing familial relationships, and even if the stories are not factually accurate, it is, as Lam states, the emotional truth that bears most weight.”
A spiritual dimension clearly pervades the show and is manifest through Tai Chi and martial arts performances, fluid movements that release tension and create a space of acceptance. On the other hand, a slightly cynical but comical commentary on the excess of self-help bullshit all feeds into the complexity of cultural conditioning, plainly saying that there is no ‘one size fits all’ for the human psyche and its many hidden corridors.
Being her first show as both producer and performer, Lam delivers an admirable performance that supports the storytelling in an understated fashion, never distracting and never wavering from her message. After all, it is the stories that matter. One story that sticks is of her being chased by her Aunt’s big black dog; she flies out the door, past the soy sauce factory, past laughing workers, with the dog behind her, her cousin behind the dog, her other cousin behind her cousin, all of them yelling at her to stop running. When she eventually does stop, she realises that all the dog wants is to play. In many ways, her stories all share a message of confrontation, courage and honesty. Everything starts when you stop running.
“In many ways, her stories all share a message of confrontation, courage and honesty. Everything starts when you stop running.”
Uplifting and bold, Lam’s matrilineal memoir evokes reflection, authenticity and warmth, rightly placing itself among the many stories that shape and enrich Aotearoa.
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You can book your tickets for 愛, 媽媽 (Love, Mum) here!