[title]
You might not have heard of the artist Elizabeth Thompson - but in another, fairer world you would have. In 1874 her painting ‘The Roll Call’ caused such a stir, fans queued for hours outside the Royal Academy to catch a glimpse of it. She was a sensation, but still never quite managed to bask in the glory she deserved - she missed out on achieving a place as the first woman voted to the illustrious Royal Academy by two votes.
Now, her history has arrived in the form of Ellen Brammar’s new play ‘Modest’: all pink flushed, cheeky, and dazzlingly garish. Elizabeth (Emer Dineen) is an artistic wizard, capable of producing one great work after another. But the top hat-wearing, mustache-twirling committee of RA men (played here by a group of the UK’s hottest drag kings) fear her talent will upset the ‘natural order of things’. Guided by the menacing advice of the Royal Academy’s president (played with eye-popping levels of pomposity by LJ Parkinson) they still agree to show Elizabeth’s second work of art - they’re a ‘liberal’ organisation after all. But it’s hidden away in a far room, ‘blackholed’ where no one will think to look for it.
But Brammar is too astute a writer to make Elizabeth’s story one of binaries. Instead, she writes her leading character to be entirely self-serving and more often than not, unlikeable. Women from all across the country pin their dreams for the future of women onto her, hoping that her presence in the Royal Academy will make way for future generations to follow. But, Elizabeth dismisses the need to support them: 'I will not throw away all that I’ve achieved by trying to be a revolutionary,' she declares.
‘Modest’ is at its best when it nods tentatively to intersectionality. Isabel Adomakoh Young’s Francis - a Black woman with her own big creative dreams - makes a charged speech on how her version of suffrage ‘wouldn’t sell’. Meanwhile, Bessie (Libra Teejay) acknowledges that her ride to success will be a lot ‘harder’ than Elizabeth’s due to poverty and a lack of tuition. These fleeting moments could be expanded out, but right now are left hanging as ideas at the beginning of fruition.
Some of the music - composed by Rachel Barnes, is strained, too. Performed by the actors, under dimmed lights and supported by strings and woozy backing vocals, the visual effect feels like darkened cabaret. But, even with such stylish finesse, it is unfortunate that not a single song is catchy enough to be memorable. Yes, the tunes might add to the pace and raise the emotion of the play in the moment - but we crave something a little more striking.
Still, ‘Modest’ is distinctive in its acknowledgment of sexism across the centuries. And kudos to Fizz Sinclair - her performance is wondrous ecstasy as she lip-syncs and morphs from one character to the next. It might not be faultless - but ‘Modest’ is a quick-witted, bawdy, diamond in the rough.