Skip to main content

Pickle (Park Theatre – 90 Auditorium)


(seen at the afternoon performance on 17th November 2022)

The Haimisha (Jewish / Yiddish word for “homely, belonging” – ‘hygge’ if you like, but with Jewish Familial emotions) feel of Deli Segal’s one-woman play starts as we enter the auditorium to be greeted by performer and producer (Tanya Truman) offering sweets to a crowd who have already bonded in the corridor outside. For those less familiar with the faith, Ari’s Glossary is also provided as a hand-out, with a long list of helpful religious and slang terms in daily use by Jews of all levels of observance (a handy chart explains this one too).

Andrew Brock’s set is the next revelation. To the uninitiated, a simple curtain with ornate pelmet surround featuring Hebrew letters at the top. To those familiar with synagogues, this is a symbolic Aron Ha-qodesh, (“holy ark”) – the screened cupboard where the most precious items in the synagogue are kept – the scrolls of the Torah. 

Those able to read Hebrew will appreciate greatly a wonderfully affectionate joke Brock spells out, as an even more precious member of the community explores the world defined by its shadow.

Ari herself is 29 and three-quarters, living with her parents in Finchley and searching for love in all the wrong places. We meet her first dallying with Craig. Not Jewish, has seen “Schindler’s List” and Abi’s internal Jewish voice speaks to her about whether this is the right situation for a nice Jewish girl to be in.

Segal’s play addresses an eternal, widely experienced conundrum at the heart of the Jewish single community, particularly for those over 25 who have not yet (like Ari’s brother) found the Jewish partner of their dreams and settled to raising the new generation. At that point many in the community wonder if “marrying out” (intermarriage into the non-Jewish community) is the answer. Ari’s journey is one vibrant young journalist’s personal exploration of the idea.

Without giving too much away, over the course of an hour Ari bounces from date to date, meeting very recognisable examples of men both of her faith and not. Augmented by Emily Rose Simon’s well timed sound cue interventions, each encounter is credible enough for us all to join her parents in hoping the Jewish ones are “the one” and that the non-Jewish ones will at least leave no lasting emotional scars.

Just when the play is veering towards the episodic, Segal widens its scope to include her character's secular schooling and explain much more about how Abi’s sense of self evolved. A devastating zinger of a line elucidates searingly everything before it; a coda explains the title with a final realisation and a little work for Laurel Mark’s automated lighting design.

Segal’s writing and performance are largely consistent, truthful and amusing - director Kayla Feldman balancing deftly the pace as required. Opening on an ancient Jewish joke is as good a starting point as any, but a smoked salmon event feels over-written given her ability to extract considerably more humour from far less in the rest of the piece. As for Amy Winehouse, that is really up to Simon Cowell to decide.

Certainly an absolute “must see” for the Jewish community and those who are “pro-Semitic.” Others who are willing to invest time in understanding other cultures and study the glossary pre-show will also find Ari’s resilient spark a pleasure to share, illuminating a little corner of life for women in one of the UK’s smallest global majority communities.

4 stars.

Photo credit: Danny Kaan. Used by kind permission.
 

Back To Top