> Chunky Jewellery (Fringe Review) 5 Stars - SNACK: Music, film, arts and culture magazine for Scotland

    Chunky Jewellery (Fringe Review) 5 Stars

    Chunky Jewellery is an episodic piece of theatre. Although it takes us through a year in their lives there is no narrative structure. It leaps from one scenario to another and includes their discussions about what should be included in the show itself. And so, two very good friends – Natasha Gilmore and Jude Williams – have had a hell of a year. One night, they sit talking about how to turn that year onto the stage and from that initial idea, Chunky Jewellery is born. The end result is filled with rehearsal discussions, their thinking up new ideas, their abandoning them, then further developing them and now we get to see them performing those ideas onstage – but are they theatrical or overly indulgent? What makes the story of two women dramatic? 

    The title comes from a present Natasha was given, a piece of jewellery which seemed to say to her that she was now at an age where this would be an appropriate present, rather than the more decorative and fine jewellery of her youth. And with a title, their ideas began to bubble as they reflected on a year of their lives that included birth, death, abandonment, first nights and how to tell their tales, without being sectioned. And so, they concluded it was time for women of a certain age, or any age, to stand up and begin to count on shared friendships. 

    And so, the stories begin with a birthday party. Gilmore describes a perfect scene, as if it was out of a magazine, whilst Williams describes the truth – the disaster. Once the truth is out, we see Gilmore huddled in a heap, confessing she can’t cope because her partner, and father of the birthday child, left three days before and she was hours away from birthday party carnage. The tone and the means of performing are set. We have the truth and the reality juxtaposed alongside the strong bond between Gilmore and Williams seeking a solution – one of them supporting and commenting whilst the other suffered their personal indignities and triumphs. 

    From there flow set pieces, including a mother’ death, one finding out that she was pregnant after she discovered couldn’t get pregnant, an abandonment by a partner – or two, the opening run of that Proclaimers’ musical, the name of which she doesn’t want to mention and so on. 

    Williams and Gilmore’s relationship is wonderfully creative; friends who share a passion for their art forms. Chunky Jewellery is a theatrical joy as it combines a love of movement and dance with theatre and music. Each perform in the other’s artform – Gilmore is the Artistic Director of Barrowland Ballet, whilst Williams is an actress with musical theatre running through her veins – and so Williams dances and Gilmore sings. The narrative is beautifully enhanced between their verbal exchanges and physical interpretations of the drama. How they developed the show is also told as they found they had little time to rehearse, as they would traditionally, in a single block of several weeks. They had to fit around each other’s schedules. That may be a lesson for other creatives as this has taken time to gestate and develop and is much stronger for that. 

    You can feel how that struggle is not only “real” like a contestant would exclaim on a reality TV show but also part of the strength of the women now relaying that message from their stage. Gilmore and Williams are saying that we need to find the time to exchange and work on each other more. 

    What works really well is where there have been missteps or mistakes, ideas that did not pan out, they have been retained and they even include the  discussions themselves. It means that the show has woven into its fabric, the idea of serendipity and forgiveness for yourself. What it does not do, however, is fling open the door or pull back a curtain on creativity, to show what happens when the audience has gone home, like some over indulgent drama exercise. This is much more about women celebrating being women, being around women and the network of their support. There may even be a song to go along with that thought – fortunately Willaims and Gilmore find one that avoids any cliches.

    Of the stories told, things are at their best when there is the tragedy juxtaposed with comedy – Gilmore reliving her breakup and Williams telling her mum she was pregnant. Both are dark, but hilarious because we get the rehearsals, the directions given and the seriousness of being performers getting in the way of the deep emotion contained in each poignant scene. In both scenes there are tears. Dark humour helps unleash the underlying pain and that is not avoided. 

    Perhaps the most iconic moment, however, is towards the end, where the goddess, Natasha, is adorned with huge amounts of chunky jewellery. I am quite sure someone spent hours finding these magnificent and gaudy looking pieces of jewellery. It is a beautiful physical riposte to those people who had seen her pigeonholed in a place that nobody fits, by giving her the first piece of chunky jewellery. The image states clearly that she doesn’t fit their vision of her, and by the way neither does Williams. Between the two of them, they stand loud and proud and cry out – stand up, and count not the jewellery you have, but by the qualities you possess. 

    This is a triumphant piece of theatre. It is simply two women telling their tale, but elevating it by using theatre in a highly creative manner, with a story that could only be told on a stage with two very skilled practitioners. 

    Chunky Jewellery. Assembly Rooms. 1st August – 24th August. 13.30. 

    Review Date. Friday 22nd August 2025.