Written and Performed by Daniel Orejon

Directed by Flavia D’Avila

The greatest stage and movie monsters of old were never really the fearsome beasts our protagonists contorted and twisted themselves into: but the worlds surrounding them.

In their solo show, The Rotting Hart, writer and performer Daniel Orejon forges a performance saturated in storms and blood, as this timeless, queer piece of horror storytelling may principally root itself in rural Spain but speaks of monsters still prevalent long living after they should have been vanquished.  

Portraying an isolated young man with no name, living a solitary life with only his father for any form of company, Orejon gives every ounce of their being to this solo show. Not only in word and body but in spirit as they breathe life into, not only this principal protagonist but of Deigo, a visitor to the village.

Gradually the fears and anxieties of this ‘other’ person give way to a thundering intensity of passion and a transformative and harmful yearning. The Rotting Hart weaves a sincere and genuine connection between these two, conveyed in Orejon’s exceptional performance, as Deigo and the narrator explore the surrounding monastery and begin to form a more intimate connection resulting in a passionate relationship: one which our narrator’s father discovers.

All the while, the persistent knowledge of Spain’s history with homosexual relationships plays at the back of our mind, Orejon offering snippets of legislations at differing times, and the various punishments and brutal forms of execution give way to the 20th century forced labour camps. It’s a marvellously intense script, which matches the cruelty of the real world with the violence of gothic literature.  

The eruption of cinematically explosive visual storytelling from Orejon is mesmerising, and the audience hangs on the illustrative command in their voice, which weaves between languages without losing non-native speakers. Saturated in gothic horror, the intensity of Orejon’s words transition into the physical as Diego and the narrator begin to metamorph, the narrator into a hound, Diego a stag.

Working together with director Flavia D’Avila to ensure the gravity of the production remains intact, one loose foot and drop of façade and the intensity of the script could easily overcome a less accomplished storyteller – especially when all Orejon must wield a single prop, though an effective one. Turning a chair into a series of characters, creatures, and firearms to aid in Orejon’s illustrative performance in the intimate space of the George Mackay Brown Library.

Extracts of The Rotting Hart’s script flip into Spanish, issues sidestepped with a leaflet which audience members are able to turn to whenever Orejon switches their language, the translation available for all to see: a small addition, but a sincerely impactful one which always the retention of the use of the Spanish language.

A spellbinding and unashamedly Queer piece of theatre, where tragedy and horror immerse themselves in the annals of history, embracing the majesty of the ancient and magical, the bone and blood and matted-fur. With an enthralling lead performance from Orejon, who becomes the very words they speak, The Rotting Hart is led by the convulsing, feverish and shaking of Orejon’s performance propels it into a profoundly intimate, even unnerving piece of transformative theatre.