A belting summer rain did not deter the citizens of Galway from filling the Town Hall Theatre to capacity for the opening night production of local playwright, poet, and artist Patricia Burke Brogan’s play Eclipsed, a drama which provides a glimpse into a hidden chapter of this island nation’s rich history. Under the hand of Caroline Fitzgerald (former Assistant Artistic Director of Dublin’s Abbey Theatre) the seamless ensemble work was vividly supported by the scenic and lighting talents of Tomás Fitzpatrick and Michael Byrne, respectively, to create a beautiful and haunting visual poem.
The play began as a young American girl searching for her birth mother arrived in the faded washroom of the St. Paul convent laundry. As drapes of deep crimson rose, the story of her mother, Brigit Murphy, and four other laundresses came to life within the cage-like shelves encircling the laundry’s gray concrete walls. In actual fact, until only recently in Ireland, young mothers who gave birth out of wedlock were committed to and imprisoned in convent-laundries set up by the church to give them food, shelter and “spiritual care.” Their babies taken away at birth, the women were to remain penitent within the confines of the laundries for the rest of their lives—themselves and their children forever removed from social interaction with their families and community. The laundresses in this play struggle to be reunited with their children and to survive the drudgery and oppression of their suffocating, colorless environs. [End Page 219]
The characters in this drama were strongly and believably portrayed by an ensemble of eight women. The four laundresses try to help each other out of their misery by sharing whatever scraps of memory they have of the sights, tastes and smells of the outside world. Their delicate support structure is stretched to its limits when Brigit (played with a palpable inner drive by Silé Nic Chonaonaigh) attacks the girlish pipe-dreams of the flighty-headed Mandy (Sinead Murphy—whose heavenly singing highlighted moments of the play). The women worked together in a group effort to lift the distraught girl’s spirit in a scene that juxtaposed riotous visual humor with a sense of mercy and pathos, as Mandy was married to her idol, Elvis Presley—who was represented by a male mannequin adorned with colorful laundry items. The play portrayed the ability of the human spirit to rise above any individual or institutional attempt at its destruction.
The penitents are watched over by Mother Victoria (played with cold imperviousness by Bernadette McKenna), an authoritative elder who holds rigidly to the letter, if not the spirit, of her religious convictions. Assisting her is Sister Virginia (Cathy Belton), a novice who sees the injustice being done under the blind eye of the church and searches for understanding, compassion and guidance from a God who is unable or unwilling to help those who call on Him. Sister Virginia is the author’s eye into the world of the play, and her experiences mirror the playwright’s real-life experience as a novice. Sister Virginia’s attempt to write to the Holy Fathers for help is intercepted by the Mother Superior who, seemingly devoid of true compassion, reprimands the novice by telling her that help and understanding can only be achieved through “blind faith” in the will of God, which is to say, the church hierarchy. Thus, in the production the perception of imprisonment widened as the audience realized the key-keepers were unknowingly captive to their rigid belief system.
While Mother Victoria ruled over her laundry with iron-clad authority, the overriding paternal control of the church was symbolically represented throughout the play by an ever-present headless mannequin draped with a Bishop’s crimson soutane—the only colorful constant in this drab world of blacks, whites and grays. The only other colors arrived from the outside world...
