Review: Keinulauta
On the seesaw of fairy tales and emotions
The seesaw is meant for everyone over the age of three, including those of us who have already swept over three a long time ago. Very nice, for everyone. It’s good for parents and grandparents to give their imagination a chance to sit on the other end of the seesaw sometimes. When you pick up the speeds, it could even be a space flight…
Of course, theatre does everything in a way. They took Timo Parvela’s Finlandia Junior award-winning work, built a swing in the middle of a fairytale forest following the instructions in the book and urged Pi the bear to tell his story. The cast is small, two actors and one musician, but it does reach for the moon.
Pi the bear is looking for a swing buddy, not online, but for real and meets many quite suitable people on his trips. He also writes down things he learns along the way. You have to start from the premise that rocking on the board is not possible at all if there is no one sitting at the other end. Friendship is not just taken, it must also be given. Sometimes they get angry, even friends, ask and forgive. Loneliness is miserable and life itself is like a seesaw of emotions, which sometimes throws you up wonderfully but sometimes throws you down with too much force.
The Helsinki City Theatre’s performance has a poetic tone. It is supported by Ville Ojanen’s slightly melancholy, but at times strong and even darkly exciting music, which is created by alternating several instruments and complementing them with vocals. Folk music can well be imagined as a source from which people have drawn, especially when it is known that Kaustinen and folk dance unite the group of performers. The delicate and insightful choreography created by Samuli Nordberg carries the narrative and stays well within such a framework that it does not escape beyond the intensity of the little spectators.
Katariina Kirjavainen’s stage image is cuddly and has risen from the same atmosphere as Virpi Talvitie’s illustration in Parvela’s book. The fun idea was to bring a big shoe. That is, literally a character with a giant’s shoe. The lights, called “traffic lights” in the stands, were also skilfully used to wing the plot.
Antti Timonen is an appealing and agile Piinä. Maria Saivosalmi empathizes with many roles and interprets the choreography in a plastically beautiful way. Expressiveness was still deliberately emphasized in the premiere for both actors. This is hardly necessary, as the child viewer quickly senses that they are overtrying. When a story is true, it doesn’t have to woo its audience.
The natural attitude of the little people towards theatre is clearly visible in the lines in the hall. When Pi’s mind is down, the advice was heard: “Wait a minute. That aunt is coming soon.” On the other hand, when Argon, a possible swing friend, is sad, one pigtail-headed expert advised the other side of the argument: “Let it cry in peace.”
And when Pi had knocked over and perhaps broken the swing in his anger, the little man behind his back said vigorously: “It can be broken. Let’s turn the rluuvi!”