Helios

We sit in a circle around the centre of the Yurt, which is lit with golden-yellow lamps. It might be firelight or dawn sunlight and listening to Alexander Wright retelling the story of Helios and his sons Phaeton and Atlas; we might ourselves be in ancient Greece hearing the story recited for the first time.

To set the scene, we are asked what we know about the sun. We share what we know – that in Alchemy, the sun represents gold, that it takes sunlight an average of 8 minutes and 20 seconds to travel from the Sun to the Earth, that it’s mainly gas, that photons from the surface of the Sun would have been created tens of thousands of years ago and it took that long for them to be finally emitted. Does anyone know the story of Helios and Phaeton? Yes – that Helios drove the golden chariot that pulled the sun across the sky each day. One day, his son Phaeton drove the chariot, was unable to control it and to prevent the destruction of the Earth, Zeus unleashed a thunderbolt to split the chariot, Phaeton was flung from it and fell spectacularly to his death.

Alexander described the painting The fall of Phaeton by Peter Paul Reubens. The story of Phaeton’s hubris and subsequent destruction is often assigned allegorical and moralizing implications. The Phaeton legend was seen as a parable on the devastating consequences of pride and lack of moderation. But is this always right? Blue plaques aren’t awarded for those who live a life of moderation.

So, with that thought, we were told the story of Helios, Phaeton and Atlas who lived in a small village in north Yorkshire which would be familiar to everyone even if they’d never been there. Helios in this world is an airline pilot and Phaeton imagines that it’s his father at the controls of the first flight out every morning, which he can see from his bedroom window against the rising sun.

It’s a story of boys growing up, tragedy breaking a family apart, coming-of-age, even eventually learning to get on with the school bully. It captures the sense of youth that it’s immortal and capable of anything. Of course it ends badly – we know it will, but we don’t want it to. We’ve been drawn into the narrative by the skill of the storyteller. And yes, there is a falling golden chariot, but you’ll have to go to find out what happens!

The words are spoken by Alexander like an opera recitative or a French chanson – they are fitted to the music by Phil Grainger perfectly, yet it feels like natural speech. From time to time, he has audience members be additional characters and voices. Clever use of microphones differentiates the words of the characters from the narrator. 

Expect to run the full gamut of emotions. This is storytelling at its best.

Helios, a collaboration by playwright, Alexander Wright and musician, Phil Grainger.
The Courtyard of Curiosities until Sunday, 23 March