ASK | Tristan Niemi

Highly provocative and original, this show is a wild ride, so if you get to see it, I suggest you strap on your seatbelt. On arrival at the door of the theatre, I was immediately intrigued when given a flyer with information for the evening. It seemed sort of like the rules in a game, but that’s where the similarities end, for this is very much about Tristan’s personal life as a queer artist with a disability, amongst other things.

The Artist will not speak unless spoken to
You must not touch the Artist without their permission
The Artist will not hear you unless you sit in the asking chair
There are no limits to what you can ask the Artist
The Artist must answer you with complete honesty
You must refer to the Artist by name when you ask your question
The artist will not respond to statements
You may only ask the Artist one question at a time.

Entering the darkened space was a sublime experience, with black curtains and soft ambient light. Before the show even started, Tristan was sitting in the centre of a crescent moon of seats the audience had almost filled, reading a book. Their energy was regal, simply holding space, not registering the people in the room at all. It felt sacred. There was an empty chair directly in front of them.

The start of the show was signified by a change in energy with the soundtrack suggestive of a mysterious timer, or a ticking clock. And bam, it’s on for young and old. Question time with no holds barred, and the promise of absolute truth. It feels like the audience is playing it safe, but Tristan certainly isn’t.

The very first question and answer: “Why did you decide to do this show”? “I’m angry”.
The second: “What are you angry about”? “The public feeling that they deserve access to my pain”.
The third: “Was there any inspiration for this work”? “Marina Abramovic”.
The fourth. “How long have you been working on this show”? “Since 2020…”.

Straight off the bat, I felt like the audience were grappling with preexisting notions of politeness playing out in this alien context of brutal sincerity. I was just as guilty. Despite this, Tristan was boldly consistent to their own concept of subverting the usual theatre expectations.

“What do you want people to take away from this show”? “Discomfort”.
“Can you expand on this discomfort you want us as an audience to feel”? “I want them to feel uncomfortable because they felt the need to ask me questions”.

You could absolutely feel the tension in the room, it was palpable. I felt the recognition of my role as a voyeur in this maelstrom, and my heart started to race. It was thrilling. I felt compelled to keep asking questions. In fact, I asked questions through the whole show, for various reasons. Originally it was curiosity, and even partly some sort of weird benevolence towards the artist in the beginning. This was killed off by of an uncontrollable desire to hear as much of their story as possible. The investigative side came out in me too. It also seemed to bring out the interest in some audience members to see what happens if you prod the experiment. In essence a group interrogation.

Let me make it clear, this was no witch hunt. This piece is not about revictimizing or inflicting trauma onto others. It has been very carefully crafted and was handled with sophistication. Tristan did not shy away from the promised truths, however they did so with grace. They ensured this was possible by taking time if needed with certain questions. They felt comfortable in that silence and so did I.

It was refreshing that they weren’t rushing against a literal clock, or to a foregone conclusion that the show must always end in. In some ways, it felt like time had frozen. Interestingly, when one thinks about it, the audience tends to drive the pace of the show by their response to Tristan’s concept e.g., how quickly they ask questions.

ASK was drenched in humour, with clever one liners on the fly, left, right and centre. It was also highly effective that Tristan’s answers were often one sentence only. Maybe even one word, but I was hanging off them. I think it worked well to leave us wanting more, just as only being able to ask one question at a time ensured the audience had to work together to extract any kind of coherency or greater meaning.

I can’t help but think of the whole ‘intervention’ scenario that family and friends sometimes pull from pop culture and a warped sense of Psychiatry. But there was no intervention needed here. In fact, this was someone showing those of us that might be wondering, exactly how to survive.

“What are you most proud of”? “Breathing”.

Way, way back, before the show even started, I found myself reacting to the promotional info about it. I decided it was a bold premise, but a little self-indulgent. I asked myself if there’s any reason, I would deem that acceptable and my answer was if it’s entertaining. So, was it worth it? Absolutely.

This was very much entertainment, don’t get me wrong. But it also managed to be a case study in disruptive theatre. Theatre that questions itself. Theatre that leaves you questioning yourself. I left questioning myself just as much if not more than the artist. The way I view things, and the way I have allowed myself to be viewed. Just like Tristan, “I don’t want pain to be my legacy”.