Although Paper Cut has a strong "the personal is political" theme - it mercilessly deconstructs the oppression of 1950s' ideals of femininity and the tyranny of glamour - it isn't a political work in the manner of, say, Kieran Hurley's Hitch. Yet it provides a moment that cracks open a matter that has concerned me since Bathsheva Dance were boycotted in the Edinburgh International Festival: one of the most thrillingly uncomfortable moments of manipulate that is all the more profound for being so unexpected.
Yael Rasooly is an Israeli artist, but Paper Cut is set in a notional America. At least, the main character, a downbeat secretary, is surrounded by American films and music. Her rich fantasy life is filled with lantern-jawed men and simpering women and her ambitions at the beginning are little more than reflections of a romantic Hollywood happy ending.
In a particularly detailed dream, Rasooly's secretary ("the bulldog") lists her honeymoon destinations. From Paris through Egypt to Edinburgh, her husband takes her around the world, allowing her to soak up the ambience while he steps, repeatedly, in dog shit. She flips over the next postcard and... it's Palestine.
Embarrassed, she pauses. Instead of her usual eulogy to the beauties of the location, she looks ashamed and says that this one is difficult, and that she'll talk about it later. Then, with a swift movement, the next postcard arrives and the bulldog is back in the fantasy.
There has been plenty of debate about Israel's activity in Palestine within the arts: most notably, the call to boycott Batsheva dance last August, and the infiltration of the audience by protestors who then disrupted the choreography by chanting. Boycotts do have a degree of political legitimacy, thanks to the boycott of South Africa during the 1980s, and campaigning against violations of human rights is probably more important than going to the theatre.
Yet the specific activity of the protestors in August did not necessarily prove their moral superiority, not advance their claim. While I am very big on the importance of theatre as a location for public discussion, I tend to see it more in terms of creating artist works that convey an idea emotionally and intellectually. Appealing for a ban on a certain company is a different dialogue and while it might bring the theatre out of the building, it has that awkward overtone of censorship.
Paper Cut doesn't actually address the Palestinian question - it just admits that it is there. There are artists who are actively engaged in the debate (David Greig has been out there, and written about his experiences) but Rasooly merely raises the matter. It's cunning - offending neither side in the argument but showing that it is important. Theatrically, it is jarring enough to break open the smooth narrative of the bulldog's fantasy (a reminder that reality might have been set to one side, but it is still waiting), but is quickly smoothed back into place.
Just a moment, and hardly the whole point of this wonderful one women show, but worth noting.
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