NIUSIA *****

Beth Paterson delivers a memorable, intimate and nuanced performance in NIUSIA, drawing on her family history to recount a story of survival, legacy and identity.

When Beth was a child, she resented visiting her grandmother, Niusia, at the weekends, when her friends were having fun. It would have been easier if she actually enjoyed her company, but she makes her feelings about Niusoa clear in forthright terms.

But after her grandmother’s death, she starts asking questions about her life – one containing desperate challenges, overcome through determination. She begins to understand her grandmother’s legacy, and in so doing, not only her familial storyline but a more profound insight into what it means to be Jewish.

Beth pieced together Niusia’s story through research, inherited stories and speaking extensively with her own mother.

She was a Polish Jew when the Nazis invaded, relatively few of whom survived to tell their tale - especially those sent to the death camps. Niusia was forced to work with Josef Mengele at Auschwitz, performing medical experiments, surviving perhaps only because her own medical training made her useful. She would have endured unimaginable hardships, yet was one of the fortunate ones when liberated by the advancing Allies, although food intake was initially very difficult as her stomach had shrunk so much. Formidable and ambitious, she emigrated to Australia, putting down fresh roots.

The holocaust, torture and Nazis make for sobering material.

However, Beth’s show sidesteps any descent into indulgence or sentimentality. She does not seek to sanctify her grandmother – in fact, her character assessment is withering - “bitter, cruel, angry”. But Beth’s journey to uncover Niusia’s story enables her to understand herself, the contradictions of love and her cultural inheritance.

Paterson’s performance is remarkable. Across the production she demonstrates an impressive emotional and theatrical range. She is in turns engaging, charming, playful, petulant, uncertain and remorseful. We see her comic timing, her storytelling, her singing, her character work, her stagecraft. She holds the audience, easily and empathetically, and when she breaks the fourth wall, it feels natural, obvious even. She glides around the stage, her eyes alert and drawing you into her story; but in those moments of stillness, you could hear a pin drop.

By the end, the audience have felt the full force of the shared stories, survival and cultural memory. Powerful, intimate, funny and moving – see it if you can.

Roger Kay, May 2026

Photo credits: Mayah Salter