Smoke was the first thing you smelled when you entered the Mick Lally Theatre last Wednesday night, April 22.
This essay performance, A Personal History of Pyromania, by curator, photographer and writer Brendan Mac Evilly, for Cúirt, explored one man's obsession with explosives and fire.
The obsession started when he was three, and his aunt lit the candles on his birthday cake to a round of 'Happy Birthday'. Recreating that moment, with a replica cake and a song from the audience, visuals of his childhood mixed with a swinging flare illuminated the stone walls of the theatre.
An adoration of flames was linked to his family history, his own life, but mainly to the power it holds. To light a fire anywhere is to call that place home, but fire can also help us transition or move on. This latter point was accommodated by a photo of his daughter, who did not look like she agreed, as Mac Evilly set her dummies alight.
Mac Evilly, in a slightly cheeky and captivating way, brought life back to his memories through fire as he spoke about his childhood friend 'Charlie', who had accommodated him, melting his thumb off with fireworks, and the shame that arose from being a bystander to his friend's bullying.
Charlie's act of self-defence when he burnt his school uniform was linked to his Nana's burning of her father's RIC uniform in the mid Sixties. With a ceramic replica of an RIC hat and revolver, Mac Evilly recounted how he had moulded these two scenes in his novel, Deep Burn.
While he is still unsure as to whether the uniform burning actually occurred, or if he had fabricated it for his storyline, Mac Evilly brought the unreal to life.
Through his writing, fire was able to create, not destroy, and turn ephemeral ideas into something durable.
