Walking into the theatre the audience is greeted by a simple set of two Dr Suess-esque lamp posts suggesting a train station, setting the stage for a beautiful, whimsical journey. Ania Upstill’s clown shuffles into this charged space bringing a palpable sense of innocence and vulnerability that wins over the audience even before the piece has really started.

This is a gentle piece of theatre that tackles some big, timely issues. On one level, a story of a little clown trying to find their place in the world, on others it is about the notion that gender is a performance or construction rather than being something that is natural and inherent.

As Upstill journeys through the world they stop at various stations, following ‘maps’ and trying on different items of clothing. Embodying the expectations of these different costumes lead to disempowerment and victimisation in some cases, to toxic and self-harming behaviour in others. What starts out as innocent and humorous playing slowly turns sour and Upstill’s clown seems to be overwhelmed and possessed by the spirit of the clothing she inhabits.

As the piece progresses we are made aware of this gap between the authentic self and the externally ‘genderised’ one. None of these places that Upstill stops at ‘fit’ them and both performer and audience are eventually dissatisfied. Finally the little clown arrives at a place where the real self is allowed to express itself with honesty and individuality and we feel that we have arrived somewhere significant.

Upstill is a beautiful performer with considerable skills and attention to detail. Occasionally the piece does suffer a little from the gentleness of its approach, as this impedes the overall dramatic drive. There are one or two moments that eddy for a little too long before Upstill moves us on to the next section. Overall though this is delicate yet muscular piece that clearly and poignantly expresses its message without feeling the need to ram it down your throat.

“We’re all born naked, and the rest is drag”.

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In a pastoral context, the term ‘transhumance’ refers to the practice of moving cattle or sheep between pastures with the shifting of the seasons. It is the act of leading livestock from fields they have grazed down to dirt, seeking more verdant landscapes. It speaks of nomadism – of a search for greener, more sustaining territories.

The word is played with here, punned, rendered into portmanteau. It is used to address a transcendence of restrictive paradigms. This performance depicts a journey between definitions of gender. Employing clown, physical theatre, drag and music, the performer seeks a land betwixt lands, slipping free of binary binds.

Performer Ania Upstill, a clown and physical theatre artist based out of New York, has worked extensively within New Zealand in the past – as a director, performer and producer. Ania identifies as queer and gender-queer and is passionate about telling stories representative of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Here, Upstill is joined by props artist and set designer Milo Robinson, and director Molly Houlahan. Together, they seek to create a work that is surreal and absurd: a playful piece that glitters with delight and sparkles with laughter; a joyous examination of what it is to be a trans human.

The set is sparse. Light sprawls from two arches – both gloriously Gothic. One boasts a lamp, the other an illuminated clock-face with runic symbols in place of numbers. There is the rattle of a train. The clown emerges, swaying slightly to show movement. It is the end of a journey. A woman’s voice over a loudspeaker reports that the destination has been reached. The clown unfolds a map of this new territory – it is a diagram of a woman. A nearby suitcase contains the items our protagonist will need for this appointed role. Gamely, the clown grapples with pink gingham and difficult heels. But worse is yet to come with the discovery of rigid rules, unrealistic expectations and objectification. Later, our protagonist will struggle with male entitlement, aggression and a catastrophic attempt at manspreading.

All of these guises are just that: costumes worn and roles played. None of them are true to this clown so another destination must ultimately be sought.

Upstill is a phenomenal physical performer – executing difficult manoeuvers with apparent effortlessness. Every quirk, nuance and movement imbues the clown with a profound sense of innocence, wonder and irresistible charm. It is a gentle, quietly heroic performance and Upstill wins the audience over from the very first gesture. 

The sound design is superb. A combination of swing jazz and accordion music evokes the era of silent comedy, while rock guitar lends the relevant scenes masculine swagger and brashness.

The final sequence is delivered in silence, with only the faint hum of a speaker to background the action. I plan to write that this cleverly illustrates the uncertain place the clown has entered – a world without sound cues or instructions. However, Ania informs the audience afterwards that this is actually due to a technical glitch (the audio cut out during tonight’s presentation – a fault that will be fixed for subsequent shows). Thus, I can only commend Upstill’s seamless performance and ability to convey both character and narrative in absolute silence (even more astonishing given that this is a wordless role).

The lighting design is subtle and expressive – with each scene painted in delicate hues. Houlahan’s direction is expertly-judged, effective and reflective.

Robinson’s prop work is a marvel. From the gilded curlicues of the lampposts, to the delightful sight-gags (i.e. the text scrawled across the map of masculinity) and finally, to the magical, climactic reveal.

The whole show is an absolute delight. Poignant and heart-filling. It bursts with humour and hope. It is human, humane and exquisite.

Gender has previously been defined in binary terms: female, male. Each has been regarded as an immutable absolute. Both buckle beneath a burden of societal expectations and culturally-assigned attributes. It is only recently that more representative words and definitions have entered common parlance.

‘Transhumance’ traverses this newly-revealed landscape (one that has always existed but was seldom discussed). This production conveys its message delicately, without hectoring or preaching. It is a work of joy and playfulness – whimsical, witty and replete with wonder. And it is all the more effective for it.

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