Paper Swans

Paper Swans draws on absurdist theatre, visual symbolism and the playwright's personal experience as a woman from a post-Soviet country coming to the UK. A one act play set in a closed park at night. A security guard finds a young woman in a ballet dress sitting on a bench making paper swans. As he tries to find out what she is doing and why, he locks them in a continuous never-ending loop of having to encounter each other again and again. However, each time they meet, there is a slight change in the situation from the one before. This work draws on absurdist theatre, visual symbolism and the playwright’s personal experience, as a woman from a post-Soviet country (Lithuania) coming to the UK.

The direction took some bold swings, though many missed. The opening and closing five minutes were restrained, purposeful, and genuinely affecting, offering a glimpse of what the production might have been. Sadly, the material in between struggled to maintain that clarity. The repeated robotic movements felt disconnected from the otherwise emotive tone, more like an earnest experimental gesture than a meaningful storytelling choice.

Choreography leaned heavily into abstraction, but often felt untethered from any emotional or narrative grounding. While there’s certainly space for unconventional physical theatre, much of the movement here seemed arbitrary, as if the performers were solving a puzzle the audience hadn’t been given the pieces for. The paper swan-making sequence was a rare moment of calm and coherence.

Valentina Turtur’s set design was a relative bright spot. The birch trees offered atmosphere, and the scattered paper swans added visual poetry. But even here, coherence was in short supply. The tarpaulin sheets may have been metaphorical—or they may have been left over from a tech rehearsal. Either way, their purpose remained elusive, and not in an intriguing way.

Costume design offered little to anchor the characters. The park guard’s outfit was serviceable. The ballerina’s costume, however, seemed to exist in a vacuum, giving no real indication of who she was or why she was there. If the intention was to keep the audience guessing, it succeeded, though not in a way that felt particularly satisfying.

Lighting design by Henry Maynard flirted with effectiveness before careening off-course in the final moments. What began as sensitive atmospheric work devolved into chaos, as if the lighting board had been taken over by a philosophy major having a breakdown. Rather than elevating the ending, the frenetic changes undercut what little emotional tension had been built.

Nick Hart's sound veered between effective and overwhelming. Some musical choices clashed with the scene’s emotional tone, creating an odd sense of dissonance. While there were moments of subtlety, they were too often undercut.

Vyte Garriga’s script clearly has ambition, and there’s a compelling idea buried beneath the surface. Unfortunately, that idea never quite takes shape. The middle third, in particular, meandered without clear direction or emotional through line. It often felt like multiple plays overlapping without fully integrating.

There were redeeming features: some genuinely slick scene changes, clever use of props, and some great performances that suggest there’s talent and vision here—just perhaps too many ideas vying for space on the same swan-shaped paper boat.

"Paper Swans" runs at Soho Theatre Upstairs until Saturday 3rd May. If you're curious (or in the mood for something a little different), ticket details are available here: https://sohotheatre.com/events/paper-swans/