An intriguing account of a very real Jewish lesbian love affair
Before I got to know Alice B Toklas and Gertrude Stein, at least in playwright Edward Einhorn’s reimagining, I must confess my awareness of the pair stretched little further than Stein’s oft-quoted gnomic declaration: “A rose is a rose is a rose.”
That the mighty modernist lovers are back in vogue now, more than 100 years after they rose to prominence as part of a mould-breaking coterie of intellectuals leading unconventional lives in Paris, in their case as exiles from the States, is probably part of the current trend to look back a century to that heady post-World War I decade. As both Jews and Lesbians, artist Toklas and writer Stein were certainly outsiders. Their oddness, coupled with their giant intellects, meant they rubbed shoulders – often rubbed up the wrong way – with a roll call of literary and artistic giants, including Ernest Hemingway, TS Eliot and Picasso.
All these personalities and more make appearances in Einhorn’s quirky drama, although there are only four actors. Natasha Byrne’s assertive, bossy Gertrude; Alyssa Simon’s tender, vulnerable Alice; Kelly Burke’s exuberant Picasso; and Mark Huckett’s grumpy Hemingway all morph from one character to another, often from moment to moment, with dizzying speed, and they all play both genders.
Taking their cue from that repetitious definition of the rose, and from The Autobiography of Alice B Toklas by Stein, Einhorn’s characters speak in convoluted phrases and announce new scenes themselves: “I am pretending to be Leo," announces Gertrude. "Leo isn’t here. We didn’t invite him," replies Alice. "Nonetheless, I am pretending to be Leo," assures Gertrude (now Leo), to which Alice responds: "Hello Leo, how surprising to see you here. Or not see you here as the case may be…"
Machiko Weston’s intriguing and entirely appropriate set, featuring a door and window frames, is put to full use by the cast as they swap characters and act out preparations for the eponymous marriage, complete with chuppah (Jewish wedding canopy). A full-on Jewish lesbian wedding almost a century before such a ceremony could scarcely be imagined, let alone take place, yet take place it does. It's a moving scene, followed by a noisy, graphic account of the consummation of the marriage.
Gertrude takes on the husband’s role, hanging out with the other chaps to swap definitions of genius, a gift with which she certainly counts herself touched, confining Alice to the role of looking after the ladies on their imagined guest list. Although Byrne, Burke and Huckett are convincingly strident, it is left to Simon’s loving and affectionate Alice to move the audience in a heartbreaking speech in which, towards the end of the play, she imagines life without Gertrude if she is left a widow (as indeed she was for some years after Stein’s death). It is no surprise that Einhorn, who directs his play himself, wanted Simon to reprise in London the role in which he had cast her in New York.
The wordiness, repetition and role switching may become tiresome for some. Nonetheless, it is brave and uncompromising; especially towards the end, where Alice imagines Gertrude chatting with Solomon, Moses and Abraham, Einhorn takes the show's Jewish feel in an intriguing new direction that is well worth the wait.
By Judi Herman
Photos by Ali Wright
The Marriage of Alice B Toklas by Gertrude Stein runs until Saturday 16 April. 7.30pm, 3.30pm (Tue & Sat only). £32, £28 concs. Jermyn Street Theatre, SW1Y 6ST. www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk