From the tip of Iceland, looking south, there is only ocean between you and Antarctica. Unless, of course, a container ship with New International Encounter (NIE) happens to be in your sight line.
The company developed Tales from a Sea Journey on a ten-day trip from Le Havre, France to the Caribbean island of Guadeloupe. (They then spent some time on the beach, had a few drinks, and caught a nine-hour flight back.)
This becomes a framing device – initially rather obvious, but subtler at the end – for three sea tales that develop concurrently. There’s Ella, a Norwegian fisherwoman who cheats death only once. The Danish teacher, Elizabeth Flensburg, who wrenches over her maths textbooks in the late nineteenth century, but still falls for a leather-clad stranger. And the cack-handed Second World War naval officer, Captain Mathieson, who shoots his dog, ignites his boat and drifts to Java.
NIE live up to their name, with humour and conviction. Narration in Norwegian is comically translated. The show was developed with Sjon, lyricist for Bjork. The captain resists and obeys onstage instructions, hallucinating with ease and leaving girls in stitches. His three-part puppet of a dog fails to die with comic aplomb. The final a capella song by three women, after another has gone missing, is gently haunting.
However, overall, Tales from a Sea Journey feels less edgy or moving than some of the company’s other work. It’s not entirely clear which age group it’s aimed at, and the stories are perhaps slightly safe.
Fear is the subject of Keine Angst by Ira Brand, later the same evening. But despite several espressos, a heart-rate monitor and a manic routine to simulate the ‘fight or flight’ response, the piece fails to convey it.
Her lists of phobias can be monotone, the design is monochrome. She speaks of ‘a form of synaesthesia’, but reels off only smells. There are some nice visual touches (hand shadow puppetry), glimpses of humour (dangerous driving) and honesty about breaking up with her boyfriend. However, the one-woman format becomes relentless, the piece feels contrived, and it falls flat.