Perhaps one of the most brilliant performances I have seen in recent months, Magic Maids rides on the broom of medieval European witch-hunt traditions to reveal the spells of exploitation cast upon contemporary women of the Global South. Eisa Jocson designs a production that is simultaneously clever, evocative, and comedic. A cauldron of clear and mesmerising shifts of flavours, marked by the falling of the brooms, the performance takes audiences on a journey through distinct phases — trance, seduction, disobedience, comedy, haunting, havoc, and finally, reordering.
Magic Maids first captivated me in the vast promotional catalogue with its use of witch imagery. The history of European witch-hunts has long fascinated me and continues to inform my engagement with the world: the misogyny of the Middle Ages serves as a persistent mirror to contemporary society, and the figure of the witch symbolises the aspects of womanhood considered unsettling and strange within distorted societal frameworks. I’ve always found it entertaining and informative to research the impacts of amplifying such aspects of womanhood. Artists Eisa Jocson and Venuri Perera dismantle the prejudices by analysing the relationships of power within the global division of labour, the sexualisation and objectification of migrant bodies, the shifting of blame, and the direct confrontation of the ways we participate in and even support chains of exploitation.
Filipino artist Eisa Jocson is somewhat of a witch herself in her creative expression. Traversing various art forms and subjects — from pole to macho dancing, hostess to Disney princess, Superwoman to zoo animals — she exposes the body politics of migrant women in the service, labour, and entertainment industries, disrupting the power dynamics driven by capital. In this piece, the rebellion against exploitative structures that render women of the Global South as lifeless machines is presented both symbolically on stage and through direct interference. “Do you have a Filipino?” Jocson asks an audience member, who gradually folds her arms.
Amidst horror tales based on real incidents and cunningly crafted discomfort, the performance is occasionally punctuated with cutting humour. Britney Spears’ Baby One More Time will never sound the same to me again. Through incantations of “I really want to like you want me to” boiling into “I really want to which you want me to,” the performance fledges into monstrosity and reclaiming power by overtaking the phallic object of the broom. The audience is enticed into becoming a Renaissance painting altogether — horrified faces with hands over mouths, stoic awkward smiles, and twinkling grins. The defiant and cathartic conclusion is deliciously sealed with the two witches’ division of labour directed at the audience.
This short article cannot fully capture the enchantment and deviousness of Magic Maids. Having closed for SPRING in 2024 and opened for the festival this year, Jocson’s possible return to wreak necessary havoc on the dominant narrative in another creative way is one that I look forward to. Rosina LUI 24th May 2024
