Shimmering into the room in a shivering, slithering mass of black material, Lucy Hopkins emerges from within her cocoon to announce that she is an ‘Artist’. Now draped in her black shawl and dressed in a black role neck and leggings Hopkins paints a perfect pastiche. This character, who is our host for the next hour, is brilliantly constructed, with every tiny facial twitch noted, glorious balletic flicks of the arm given upon every declaration, and a delicate and fluid movement quality present in her willowy hands that can only be described as mesmerising. We are all laughing infectiously as we recognise the terrible stereotypes drawn by this Artist: ridiculously well spoken with an emphasis on putting the air into her ‘h’ sounds, and smilingly condescending in her superiority. ‘Have you ever done anything with your lives?’ she says, half whispering the answer to herself whilst still grinning. ‘I didn’t think so.’ The Artist goes on to demonstrate her work by transforming into different characters with one simple and swift adjustment of her black cloth to costume each one differently. They are stunningly distinct in their physicality and voices. The first is a menacing Hispanic woman (or man, who knows) who speaks aggressively in poetic absurdity: ‘I love you, like the black rose loves the moonlight’. The next is a quivering waif of an infantile woman, nervously laughing every time she blinks apparently, hopelessly searching for love in cafes whilst announcing, ‘I think… I am… a plant’

These characters are brilliant in their madness, but also beautiful as they touch on more profound matters. The Artist’s grip on her creations slips as each one begins to break free and indulge in their own whims and desires. There are notes of Beckettian existentialism as the characters start to question their existence without their Artist. At one point the quivering waif asks ‘are you God?’ and then later ‘am I God?’. These notions of performance and performed reality are pushed further in an ending that is both magical, confounding and mad. I won’t spoil this though as it is a special moment, and different for each audience I am sure.

Hopkins is a hugely talented performer, incredibly responsive and open to her audience, intensely detailed in her drawing of character, playful, absurd and intelligent. I challenge anyone to watch her and not be entirely enchanted.