Classically trained with a three-octave range, the genre-exploding performer dissolves her voice into astonishing gasps and stutters to confront the horror of colonial history
Performing her piece Sweet Tooth, Elaine Mitchener’s hands become someone else’s. Flesh is poked, buttocks are slapped, breasts are grabbed. Her fingers reach inside her mouth, fish-hooking her cheeks into a grimace, and she is dragged about the stage by invisible others. Her breath becomes shallow and panicked, in a natural, unperformed response. It is extremely difficult to watch and to hear, and it’s supposed to be: she is evoking a slave inspection. “It’s about: I want you to experience this with me, because we are equal, we are human beings,” she says. “It’s too simplistic for people to say: oh, it’s just provocative work, or she’s just angry and hammering it home. No, we’re talking about humanity and our existence.”
Mitchener is a vocalist (arguably the UK’s boldest operatic voice), movement artist (“dancer” isn’t quite right) and composer whose work cuts across
music, theatre, dance, art and research. Her power is in her ability to generate intense collective empathy in a room. “Coming to see what I do, you don’t sit back,” she says. “People are exhausted afterwards. I ask you to come with me on this journey and we’re in it together. It’s about trust, and I take that trust really seriously.”