“What do you want to be when you grow up? I will become a white, Norwegian man” This is how the collection of poems “Kvit, norsk mann” by Brynjulf Jung Tjønn opens, and this is how the theater performance based on the book opens. Tjønn’s collection of poems revolves around the one thing he can never be: a white, Norwegian man. Tjønn was adopted from South Korea, and this personal collection of poems is about growing up and looking different from those around you. An experience he shares with many, probably also with shoe player Huy Le Vo. Vo is not adopted, he does not share that experience, but I think he knows something about the feeling of outsiderness linked to not being white. Tjønn and Vo probably also share the experience of how language can shut you out and make you a foreigner. TYDELEG: There is no doubt about what the play “White, Norwegian man” is about. Photo: Birgit Solhaug Dictating into the role Should anyone be in doubt as to what the play is about, the back wall is covered in luminous letters that form the word “KVIT”. The rest of the scene is dark with a high bench at the front. On stage in this monologue performance, shoe player Huy Le Vo stands together with composer and musician Kim Thanh Ngo, known as the electronica artist Kim Dürbeck. The first thing Huy Le Vo does is to practice becoming something he is not – a boy from Sogn og Fjordane. ON STAGE: The performance “White, Norwegian man” is a collaboration between shoe player Huy Le Vo and artist Kim Dürbeck. The latter could well have been given more space. Photo: Birgit Solhaug He has Tjønn’s reading of the poetry collection on his mobile phone, and plays the beginning – what do you want to be / when you grow up – over and over while he tries to imitate the dialect. This is how he shows how he enters Tjønn’s universe and becomes the poor boy who came from South Korea to a farm on Feios in Sogn og Fjordane, the noble boy who was supposed to take over the farm, but who did not toll milk or wool and who in addition had ten thumbs. Tjønn’s collection of poems must be grateful textual material to work with. The book is rich in images and contrasts – and she paints different geographical landscapes: the Tjønn train station was found in South Korea, the farm in Western Norway, the home in Ullevål garden town, where the neighbors think he is a post office. ODEL: Brynjulf Jung Tjønn is named after his grandfather, and the idea was that he should take over the farm at Feios in the west country. Huy Le Vo plays the squeamishness of the poet-ego with truverd. Photo: Birgit Solhaug Musician Kim Thanh Ngo, better known under the stage name Kim Dürbeck. Photo: Birgit Solhaug Huy Le Vo on stage. Photo: Birgit Solhaug You don’t need the n-word Director Maren E. Bjørseth and playwright Huy Le Vo have made a selection from among Tjønn’s poems, but the text is the same without major changes. Apart from this: that the n-word has been removed in the preview. But that makes this scene stronger as theatre. That the word is distant, that it is still and empty where the word should be, makes the poem and the situation the poem tells about grow. And this particular scene is among the strongest in the play, the place where the tools work best together. The scene tells about Arve Beheim Karlsen, the Indian-born Norwegian boy who was chased by a mob over a bridge and even into the Sogndalselva, where he was later found drowned. In the poem, the poet-I jumps over the bridge together with Karlsen, throws himself into the river together with him. Huy Le Vo does the same in the foresight. And Dürbeck’s music follows along, the music can take over the story and wash over the audience, take them down into the depths. It is a well-executed scene in which Huy Le Vo shows a wise and attentive game. IN THE WATER: Huy Le Vo has several movement sequences that work well with the poem and the music. Photo: Birgit Solhaug Clever handsaming Vo is wise and attentive throughout the whole presentation, whether he’s standing in rubber boots digging in the dirt or he’s running in a football uniform and yearning to be like the national team heroes from the 90s. At the same time, the direction could have given Dürbeck a better place. In the scene with Sogndalselva, the play shows how beautiful it can be when everything works together. The music could bear more of the foresight than he is allowed to do now. Towards the end, the foresight gets stuck, goes around in circles, repeated itself a little too much. There is potential here for smart tightening. But most of all, this is a good handling of a wise collection of poems. Vo manages the difficult balance between honesty and finger-pointing, which is also found in the book. Most of all, “Kvit, norsk mann” shows how language can shut you out and how well-intentioned formulations can hit the worst places. And that alone makes “Kvit, Norwegian man” worth watching. news reviews Photo: Vega Scene Title: “White, Norwegian man” By: Brynjulf Jung Tjønn Director: Maren E. Bjørseth With: Huy Le Vo Dramaturg: Kjersti Gulliksrud and Solrun Toft Iversen Place: Vega Scene, Oslo Time: September 9 to 26 September Composer and performing musician: Kim Thanh Ngo (Kim Dürbeck) Lighting, scenography and costumes: Norunn Standal Choreographer: Magnus Myhr House technicians Vega Stage: Emil Høgset and Magnus Holm Slettebø Producer: Ann Margritt Enoksen Photo: Birgit Solhaug Graphic design: Cathrine Pettersen Theater critic Karen Frøsland Nystøyl about the performance of “White, Norwegian man” on the theater stage. Published 09/09/2024, at 16.33
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“White, Norwegian man” at the Vega stage – Reviews and recommendations
