Scarlet Sunday

Scarlet Sunday, written by James Alston and directed by Imy Wyatt Corner is a thought-provoking play exploring the value of art, the status of celebrity and the consequences of moral transgression.

The dual protagonists of the play, Yasmin, played by Sorcha Kennedy and Ava, played by Camilla Aiko effectively transport us into a world where the late ‘Ray Blackwood’ is remembered as an incredible artist by the public but a problematic father in his private life.

Sorcha Kennedy’s portrayal of Yasmin is outstanding. She brings to life a vivacious art critic who is passionate about Ray Blackwood’s work. With flawless comic timing and captivating body language; Kennedy commands the stage easily.
Camilla Aiko’s portrayal of Ava as the nervous and guarded daughter of the mysterious artist seems authentic, but the resigned rebuttals to Yasmin’s probing questions feel repetitive. However, once the storyline takes its dramatic turn, Aiko is really able to shine.

When Ava lets Yasmin into her life and her childhood home, the set becomes alive with Artist’s props; paintbrushes and pots litter the floor, cloths are draped over easels and the use of projection onto suspended canvases is a stunning style choice from Set Designer, Cat Fuller and Lighting Designer, Catja Hamilton.

Yasmin’s enthusiasm for Blackwood’s work creates a tangible hype around him as an artist and draws the audience into the world where each piece of his work has weight and meaning. The focal point of Yasmin’s passion is the unseen piece named, ‘Scarlet Sunday’, which becomes the catalyst for Ava to reveal the chilling truth behind how her father found inspiration for his artwork.

I’ve often wondered what the reaction would be if an artist or public figure considered inherently benevolent (think Tom Hanks or David Attenborough) were to be accused of illicit acts. Would we be able to instantly condemn them?

Scarlet Sunday is skillfully written and performed, packed with humour and provocative moral dilemmas. My previous thoughts were echoed and I was left to ruminate on a new question; can art still be admired when the artist no longer can be?

Photo credit: Alex Brenner