
Honey Pham, Brenda Kamino, Shiong-En Chan, Tai Wei Foo and Michelle Wang in “Carried by the River”, Photo by Dahlia Katz
Based on the loss of her mother and reconnection to her Chinese roots, playwright Diana Tso 曹楓 has crafted a lyrical work that honours her own experience and betrays research into a culture that has helped shape her. Presented by Red Snow Collective, Carried by the River 流源夢 introduces us to a young Asian woman, Kai (Honey Pham), who travels to her birthplace in China after being called by the river and visited by a series of mystical animal guides. Despite its whimsy and the obvious emotional impulse that drives the work, the production seems burdened by its own intentions. I never quite felt this.
In his direction and choreography, William Yong 楊漢源 provides plenty of suggestive, poetic movement and the production as a whole features a variety of design elements that pop with expressive purpose. Ting-Huan 挺歡 Christine Urquhart’s scenery provides a canvas of paper and cloth draperies that catch Andre du Toit’s colourful lighting; together, they provide a fanciful, evocative landscape. Silhouettes and projections contribute to the low-key and intimate spectacle. Urquhart’s costumes for the animal guides are scrappy and playful, as if crafted spontaneously from found materials; for the human characters, their attire is vivid and effectively establishes each woman’s distinct essence.
And who are these women Kai encounters on her journey? As a spirit, her mother, Rose (Shiong-En Chan), is determined to reach out to her, seeking the aid of an elderly medium, Lao Lao (Brenda Kamino) with a very funny, dead pan response to the ghosts she just can’t seem to be rid of. Ting Ting (Michelle Wang) is a an eccentric and boisterous local entrepreneur who befriends Kai, offering advice and companionship until Kai’s gayness alienates her. Her harsh scolding (“You think you can do whatever you want!”) is one of the more jarring episodes in which she suddenly embodies a traditionalist Chinese culture. Tai Wei Foo 符岱微 completes the ensemble as Mei Shan, Ting Ting’s compassionate and nurturing mother.
All five play variety of other bit parts as Tso’s script touches on aspects of Chinese society and symbolism to add contextual dimension to Kai’s journey. There is reference to oppressive patriarchal control and the devaluing of female children under the One Child Policy that was in effect from 1979 to 2015. In one of the many graceful movement sequences, a red thread appears as a tether that binds them—through generations, across nations and past death—as Kai discovers her deep connection to the land and its people—and, of course, the river.
To come back to my earlier comment about not quite feeling this: Characters tell us the insights rather than allowing us to discover them on our own. The lyrical qualities of the script and the production’s aesthetic help sell this mode of delivery. It is all very pretty; the performances, however, though sincere, are lacking raw, emotive force. The theatrical gestures are striking yet I found it, overall, too timid—and, I suspect, rather under-rehearsed.
Alice Ping Yee Ho 何冰頤’s soundtrack provides some persuasive aural texture to this stylish production that has some cute tricks up its sleeve. That bicycle crash sequence is an especially elegant bit of simple and inventive stagecraft. The heartfelt intentionality here is palpable and, depending on your sensibilities, perhaps more resonant for you than it was for me.

