In Delusions and Grandeur, Karen Hall says that people forget up to 80% of what they hear within 24 hours. But 24 hours after seeing her fascinating and brilliantly creative one-person show at the Vancouver Fringe Festival, I can’t stop thinking about what I heard, saw, and experienced. An accomplished cellist and tremendous actress as well, Hall brings audiences into her world, sharing her head space, emotions, and exquisite musical talent.
Hall tells her story through clowning, which doesn’t mean she wears white make-up and a red nose. Theatrical clowning includes more than that. It’s engaging your audience with humour, and generously sharing yourself with them, including making light of your follies. Acting a fool involves having an adamant perception of something, while missing the big picture. I’ll get more into that later, as the foolery element is integral to this show.
The moment Hall walks into the room, she captivates. She has a striking presence, and looks directly at audience members, observing them. She’s casually conversational. And she’s exceptional at playing the cello. This is apparent when she plays her opening piece, “Suite Number One in G Major” by Johann Sebastian Bach.
Throughout her 50-minute show, she’ll continue to play the remaining five movements of Bach’s Cello Suites, one of the most iconic works from the Baroque music era. Hall tells us, “Baroque music is open, exposed, barren”.
And like the Baroque genre, Hall exposes herself, shredding away layers during the show – literately and figuratively. When she first enters, she’s wearing an elegant, long black evening gown. Her hair is straight and sleek. Her hair remains impeccable throughout, but as for the evening gown and the reserved, posh vibe that accompanies seeing an elegant woman play Bach on a cello – be prepared for it to be stripped away.
Hall shares her personal stories, including a tragic memory from her childhood that bittersweetly set her career in motion. She shares interesting industry info – she was on Glee for four seasons, she shows us what’s inside a cello player’s bag, and she even demonstrates some of the exercises she does to stay in shape for her profession.
But she also shares the expectations thrust upon her from a young age, and ultimately the realization when the division between her individuality and talent became inseparable. She openly questions whether it’s been worth devoting her life to her art, and she asks her cello, “Does it diminish the fact that I love you, if it’s not all the time?”
Hall’s story personally resonates with me, because I’ve been a dancer for most of my life. Like Hall, I devoted my childhood and young adult life to my art and I truly understand the blurring between individual and craft.
What Hall doesn’t talk about, perhaps to keep her show succinct and uncluttered, is seeing everyone else around you move on with their lives while you continue down your own, lonely journey. Seeing your childhood friends getting full-time jobs with benefits and vacation time, buying homes, getting married, and having kids. And if feels like the forces of the world aren’t relenting in allowing you to have a piece of that. You must devote your life to your craft.
But this is where the “delusions” come in, in Delusions and Grandeur. The truth is, there is always opportunity and life beyond what you may immediately perceive. In performing her show, Hall isn’t presenting her entire self – she’s taking us into her delusions. I experienced these same delusions during my dance career. These are the dark nights when you feel suffocated, and despite all reason and logic, you can only see down one foreboding tunnel.
This is the “foolery” element of Hall’s clowning. In real life, she’s embraced the opportunities around her, working as an actress, coach, and theatrical storyteller. But what we see in Delusions and Grandeur are her dark moments.
And that’s what makes Delusions and Grandeur such a special show. Whoever we are, and whatever it is that we do in life, these delusions are necessary. They provide a building block for us to step on, to see the light above. Being a cellist will always be an integral part of who Hall is. And her musical talent is unquestionably a major part of what has elevated her to the opportunities she’s had.
In Delusions and Grandeur, Hall shows us that delusions can be beautiful. While they may torment us at times, they can also empower us and spark the passion needed to reach for grandeur.
Delusions and Grandeur, written and performed by Karen Hall, is part of the 2022 Vancouver Fringe Festival running until September 18. Visit the Fringe Festival’s website for more information.