Review: LIGHTKEEPERS by Miriam Nash

Credit: Jacob Sam-La Rose

Step into Miriam Nash’s childhood kitchen, currently inhabiting Sarah Lawrence College’s A*Space.

The kitchen is the dream-like setting for Lightkeepers, a one-woman show. Nash transforms the tiny white room through a powerful blend of song, poetry, and theatre which she herself writes and performs. Here sits a cassette player, there a porridge bowl. The pipes that clutter the low ceiling rattle along with ghostly recorded winds and waves–the venue is oddly well-suited. It’s also intimate, which makes it perfect for the connection Nash fosters with each individual in her audience.

The play centres on Nash’s adolescence off the coast of Scotland in the 1980’s. Lyrical poetry describes the island, with just two telephones at either end of the only street, a beached whale, hippie tourists, and the waning strength of family ties. Nash wanders the space as she speaks, greeting inanimate objects warmly, fooling around with incandescent light and tape recordings. Folk tales and impressions of Nash’s granny are smattered throughout the 40-minute performance, as well as occasional plucking of the “Guinness harp,” as she so charmingly dubs it.

Indeed, Miriam Nash is nothing but charm and ease from the moment you lay eyes on her. Memorization is less a quantity than a quality for her. This short play is as much about darkness as it is about light–and what it truly means to keep it.

The play was produced by Downstage, and will run through April 19th in A*Space in Bates. The performance is free and begins at 8:30, but reservations are recommended. Check out the Facebook event here. Miriam Nash also has a book called Small Change out from Flipped Eye Publishing, available on Amazon.

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