Leaves, at Dublin Theatre Festival, reflects on care, growth, death and intelligence of nature

Leaves

The Ark, Dublin 2

★★★★☆

Branar’s Leaves may be inspired by Stephen Hogtun’s picture book, but what unfolds onstage feels less like an adaptation and more like a deepening, an expansion outward and downward, into roots and networks and the tender ecosystem of connection. What was once a simple meditation on the circle of life becomes, through Marc Mac Lochlainn’s direction, a wordless reflection on care, growth, death and the quiet intelligence of nature.

From the darkness of soil, a slim green sapling pushes tentatively into a thawing world. Nearby, an older thick-trunked tree protects its fragile beginnings from rain and sun. As it grows the elder teaches resilience, how to bend with the wind and adjust to whatever the elements throw at it.

Deviating from Hogntun’s book, Mac Lochlainn introduces a cast of supporting characters – a curious rabbit and three mischievous red squirrels – placing the tale within a wider and mutually beneficial natural community. They play with the young sapling, helpfully bury acorns and tenderly lay tokens of remembrance on the stump of the old tree after its demise. The additional animals emphasise coexistence and de-emphasise the book’s (not entirely successful) metaphor of the leaves as memories.

Maeve Clancy’s design creates a luscious grassland that changes through the seasons, and at times our eyes are drawn below the soil to reveal the trees’ roots. Brought to life by strings of light by Michael Foley’s lighting design, we see energy flowing between the old and young tree like a mycorrhizal network.