Isabel Azar’s Clare, centre, with her family servants, Clare Meadley’s Peppa and Emily Hansen’s Alma, in Black Treacle Theatre’s Poor Clare. The bowl containing her hairpins will reappear later in Jim Paterson’s production as a begging bowl. Picture: John Saunders
FIRST, the history bit. The Franciscan order of the Poor Clare Colettines was based at St Joseph’s Convent, in Lawrence Street, York, founded in 1865 by nuns from Bruges. Where once it housed 40 nuns, now the site provides student accommodation. How very York in 2026.
The original Poor Clare is the subject of American playwright Chiara Atik’s 2021 play, premiered in Los Angeles and given its European debut at the Orange Tree Theatre, London, in 2025.
Black Treacle Theatre founder and director Jim Paterson read a review and then the script ,“intrigued by the description of the play’s deliberately anachronistic use of modern, ‘Gen Z’ dialogue and attitudes in the telling of the lives of these religious figures in 13th century Italy.”
Hot on the heels of York Settlement Community Players’ staging of Sarah Gordon’s irreverent re-telling of the Brontë Sisters’ literary lives, Underdog: The Other Other Brontë, with its frank and fruity language and modern sensibilities, Theatre@41 plays host to another conflation of old and modern in its York premiere. This one, however, is as much reverent as irreverent.
PJ Gregan’s zealous but never pious Francis in Black Treacle Theatre’s Poor Clare. Picture: John Saunders
Paterson’s cast is in medieval costumes, complemented in Richard Hampton’s design by a plain white backdrop. Then, the first time you hear each and every actor speak with an American accent straight out of Hollywood’s rom-coms or Frank Zappa’s satirical song Valley Girl, you will be puzzled.
Think Legally Blonde. Every second word, like, is ‘like’. Hey you guys, give us a break. But wait, Atik’s script is so smart and sharp and wise that you are soon wholly on board.
As it happens, Clare is played by an American actress, Isabel Azar, from Memphis but now extending her studies in York to opera singing with a view to a career embracing acting, writing and opera. She is Catholic too, drawing her even closer to St Clare, founder of the Poor Clare order of nuns.
In Atik’s faithful re-telling, Clare is a young noblewoman in 13th century Assisi, where she is preparing for marriage to an aristocrat and a life of even more wealth and privilege than she has already as part of the second most wealthy family in the central Italian town – even if younger sister Beatrice (Eleanor Stephenson) and their mother Ortolana (Victoria Delaney) will argue over whether they are rich or not.
Isabel Azar’s Clare in her putative wedding dress with her high-society mother, Victoria Delaney’s Ortolana. Picture: John Saunders
Yes, of course they are: at the start, Azar’s Clare is idling the day away with her droll servants, Emily Hansen’s Alma and Clare Meadley’s Peppa, endlessly titivating her hair. Stephenson’s Beatrice cares only about clothes. Such superficiality is rife in this high society.
Yet the presence of Ben Reeves-Rowley’s Beggar, bowl in hand, is a haunting reminder that poverty besets Assisi too. Into the town strides Francis (yes, that Saint Francis of Assisi, played by PJ Gregan), who has turned his back on his privileged upbringing to campaign tirelessly for the poor and the redistribution of wealth. A man of bare feet and facts laid bare. Zealous, yes, pious, no.
Azar’s Clare finds herself drawn to rather more than the beautiful robe and golden locks of Gregan’s Francis, as he sets her on her way to a life of devotion to the cause of caring for the needy. Yet she has a long way to go when she initially assures him she will still give to charity after her marriage.
Eleanor Stephenson’s Beatrice, left, Victoria Delaney’s Ortolana and Isabel Azar’s Clare looking delightedly at one of her wedding presents, a book, in Black Treacle Theatre’s Poor Clare. Picture: John Saunders
Atik’s play moves with such pace and vigour that past productions have eschewed an interval, but here the break was a perfect chance at Wednesday’s performance to ask each other questions. “It’s not what I expected,” was the most common reaction, but uttered with approval and excitement at what was to follow.
Reeves-Rowley will reappear in modern clothing, linking with the modern world, as he begs for money from the front row while spinning his life story.
Azar’s Clare will find herself in discussions with bewildered sister and bemused mother and Gregan’s Francis alike. The more the two converse, and indeed clash in the high point of Paterson’s production, the more she feels compelled to reject aristocratic airs for service to the poor. By now, she is wearing a scratchy hair shirt to remind her constantly of the suffering, while his robe is no longer ostentatious blue but dull brown.
Come the finale, Azar’s Clare is in nun’s habit, addressing the ills of the modern world directly. The play was doing that already, albeit indirectly, but this monologue seeks to trigger more to follow Clare’s lead.
Eleanor Stephenson’s Beatrice, Victoria Delaney’s Ortolana and Isabel Azar’s Clare bathe their feet in the company of servants Alma (Emily Hansen) and Peppa (Clare Meadley). Picture: John Saunders
Paterson’s cast all enjoy the wit and fizz of Atik’s dialogue. Stephenson’s Beatrice is a riot, spoilt, blinkered but amusing; Gregan’s Francis has weight and authority but boyish charm too. Azar’s Clare combines impish humour and quiet intelligence with rising defiant steel as radiance settles on her.
Azar’s mother was in Wednesday’s audience, all the way from Memphis. She was not the only one whose face was wreathed in smiles after encountering such a bravura play.
Black Treacle Theatre in Poor Clare, Theatre@41, Monkgate, York, until November 7, 7.30pm plus 2.30pm Saturday matinee. Box office: https://tickets.41monkgate.co.uk.
P.S. Should you be wondering, if you attended Poor Clare, in keeping with the play’s meeting ground of modern and medieval, director Jim Paterson chose “medieval bardcore” renditions of songs by the likes of Lady Gaga, performed by such artists as Hildegard von Blingin’ and Beedle The Bardcore, each as magical as a madrigal, for the scene changes.
PJ Gregan’s Francis and Isabel Azar’s Clare finding common ground – and clothing – on Richard Hampton’s set, with its wheel-on chapel, in Black Treacle Theatre’s Poor Clare. Picture: John Saunders
