Story, Music and Performance by Tom Oakes

Poetry and Dramaturgy by Kolbrún Björt Sigfúsdóttir

Irrespective of culture or background, the conceptual hearth is a remnant throughout our shared histories. It’s a place of warmth and welcoming, fire and spark, but also of comradery and fairytale. It’s the focal point of the home where we gather to share experiences and impart wisdom. And though many homes no longer possess a traditional hearth space, Brite Theater’s The Hearth instils a sense of the spiritual hearth – a portable one we all carry with us throughout life as we meet people and take elements of theirs, while offering experiences of ours.

An extended form of their previous works, The Hearth is the culmination (and possibly still evolving) multi-instrumental merge of music and storytelling from traditional musician Tom Oakes.

Places themselves entirely within the show, sitting centre-stage and never leaving. Though the narrative threads borrow from the many wonderful people Oakes encounters and connects with, it stays principally Oakes’ piece. The audience is just another part of the journey: as we move from Oake’s aunt Beryl to the grief and still resonating loss of close friends like Joe Scurfield or Angus Grant. The former left behind cassette tapes with hours of music and tunes from all over the world, now available from Scurfield’s digital library.

The only other voice we hear is that of the spoken word, a series of gorgeously weighted poetry that Dolina MacLennan does a superb job of reciting the poetry penned by Kolbrún Björt Sigfúsdóttir, who provides dramaturgy for the production. While Sigfúsdóttir’s (or another on-stage performer’s) presence is missed, the decision to have Oakes as a focal point for the audience lifts the production into a more tuned and complete form.

The strands of communication which transcend borders prevail through Oakes’ compositions and instrumental segments. Though chiefly a flautist, Oakes makes no bones about branching the live musical elements with tunes and techniques we have picked up from Morocco, Ireland, and all over the world. From levity to intensity, the anecdotes and storytelling breaks within The Hearth draw us tighter together but also hint at Oakes’ natural ability as a more reserved but well-spoken storyteller.

Now, the question of Oakes’ capability as a musician is not worth going over – their command of pacing and ease in switching and understanding the positives and drawbacks of each instrument are plain to see. Oakes’ moves between wood and string to forge a bridging union of communication between nations, histories and styles through music: ensuring the space remains a wry, humorous, and safe one for audiences to unwind and connect with the piece on a more resonant level.