No, it’s not one of Brecht’s Lehrstucke; The Lesson is the opposite of didacticism, it is an elusive exploration of language and learning by Eugene Ionesco.  In entering the Corpus Playroom, a Cambridge student will readily recognise the setting of an archetypal supervision room with books and numerous tea cups dispersed around the space, and a pretentious poster on the wall.  Even the Professor with his eccentricities does not seem that unfamiliar (at first anyway) with his softly spoken voice and social awkwardness. Yet this familiarity quickly, and increasingly, mutates as the play progresses, with a twist right at the start that challenges our preconceptions, strengthened by the intelligent preset action taking place as the audience arrives.

The Pupil (Hannah Blakie) is instinctively curious as she awaits the arrival of her Professor, taking the liberty of examining books, and sitting in what is clearly her teacher’s chair. Her child-like naïveté is heightened by the innocent and monochrome school-girl outfit which she wears.  When the Professor arrives, after being initially amazed by the Pupil’s abilities in basic arithmetical addition, he becomes increasingly angry at her inability to understand what he tries to teach her. Mark Fiddaman in this role captures the introverted essence of the academic, and observes the subtleties of Ionesco’s dialogue.  Blakie plays her character in a smiling and simple manner that manages to adhere to the unsettling ambiguity of the text, and reflects her character’s by-rote learning.  Just as in Beckett’s repetitions, her parrot-like reiterations in protesting about her tooth-ache later on in the play, complements the unsettling tone that the Professor adopts.

Vocally, Fiddaman’s dynamics are perhaps not varied and fluid enough, and the shifts in volume need to be more carefully considered. At times as well, there is a slight artificiality to the posture and hand gestures of both Fiddaman and his Butler (Iain Blackwell);  they need to be more comfortable in fulfilling the movements the director has prescribed, and commit to them. Of the cast, Blackwell gives the least accomplished performance, but is suitably menacing and enigmatic.

Joe Pitt-Rashid’s production is well-staged, and the increasingly stripped-down nature of the lighting transforms the familiar room into a nightmarishly isolated world for the climax, which would make Pinter proud.  It is only a shame that there were so few people in the audience the night that I saw it. Go see this bizarre and brilliant piece.