By Rory McAlpine
What is love? What is this mystifying, often elusive force, shaping and impacting so much of our lives? After Taste, by Katie Procter, is an hour-long performance infused with humour, joy and moments of deeper vulnerability, grappling with this question and offering a moving commentary on love, heartbreak and human connection.
Juniper (Isabel Bainbridge), in the aftermath of a breakup and with her ambitions to pursue a career as a writer faltering, is feeling lost and lonely in the vastness of the city she has moved to post-university. Her nights see her attempt to fill this void by bringing men back to her room, found on dating apps, club floors, and even introduced by mutual friends. Yet, the sexual encounters that Juniper seeks never come to fruition – instead, she finds herself conversing on love and unpacking its meaning, contemplating on the patriarchy and her struggles transitioning from university life into the world of work. Waking up with the inevitable hangover after these failed flings, Juniper is always met by her best friend Maddie (Robyn Bradbury), whose concern, encouragement and care for Juniper proves to be the much-needed cure.
Juniper and Maddie are opposites. Juniper’s life is directionless; she feels stagnant, while Maddie, in contrast, is put together, preparing for her morning yoga or discussing the latest health crazes. When Juniper lies hungover in bed, Maddie is bustling around the room suggesting hangover cures and radiating an invasive positivity that initially irritates Juniper but quickly brings a smile to her face. The intimacy of Juniper and Maddie’s friendship is at the centre of the play and is conveyed on stage through not just dialogue but body language, movement and physical touch, with moments of female friendship and care such as Maddie combing through Juniper’s hair or cleaning up her room and bringing her food, taking on the role of a motherly figure.
Each man brought back to her bedroom exposes Juniper to a different view of love. One awkward encounter ends up with her playing scrabble and discussing the view that love is a talking quota, that your relationship lasts only as long as you have things to say to one another. Another night, an overconfident, narcissistic man talks about how monogamy is outdated, whilst a man with a particularly mathematical mind talks about the probability of finding love in a room full of people. All these conversations ultimately converge on the question of whether they believe in soulmates, and all try to disabuse Juniper of this notion, claiming: No, there is no single person for someone, no fated love in the stars. Yet that is ultimately Juniper’s view of love: the existence of soulmates.
All these different views of love are brought up when the final man she meets in her room is her ex-boyfriend, and they talk through what led to the disintegration of their relationship, with Juniper subconsciously slipping into conversation the ‘talking quotas’ and mathematical probabilities. Against this backdrop of men that come and go with divergent views on love, there is a constant – interwoven through these episodes is Maddie and Juniper’s relationship. One that is genuine and built not on romantic love but deeper friendship. If one believes in soulmates, Maddie and Juniper exemplify this. This realisation is one that Juniper gradually comes to understand.
The performance incorporates sparing but thoughtful use of props, lighting, and set. The passing of time is effectively indicated by characters changing the pages of the calendar in Juniper’s room, while scene changes are accompanied by purple lights and pulsating music, marking clear distinctions between different moments. The use of a screen to project a montage of photos and videos documenting Maddie and Juniper’s friendship is a particularly moving moment, intensified by the differing medium.
After Taste is a delightful original script that holds at its heart the powerful message that life and love are messy and complicated. Yet, we should not allow this fixation on romantic love to cause us to lose sight of the fact that love has many guises and that the love born of friendship can be equal, if not more fulfilling.