Who is Claude Cahun? tells the story of Claude Cahun (Rivkah Bunker) and their partner Marcel Moore, also known as Suzanne Malherbe (Amelia Armande). The story of Cahun and Moore and their contribution to the resistance against the Nazi occupation is an important one, and is very rarely told, making a play like this essential viewing in this day and age.

Claude was born Lucy Schwab, and wrote regularly about their struggles with gender identity. Their most famous quote is from an old diary that was recovered where Claude states that ‘there are men and there are women, but Neuter is the only gender that always suits me’, leading us to believe that today Claude would likely identify as trans/non-binary.

The story plays through a series of flashbacks, giving insight into Claude’s difficult childhood, and the abuse they experienced at the hands of their mother until she was institutionalised and meeting their life partner through both their involvement in the Surrealist movement. After Suzanne’s father passed, her mother and Claude’s father began a relationship, it is suggested that this may have been a front to allow Claude and Suzanne to live together in non-suspicious circumstances.

When Hitler rose to power, Claude and Suzanne moved from France to the island of Jersey under the names Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore, and lived together as sisters. In 1940 the Nazis occupied the island which drove Claude into hiding due to their Jewish heritage. Claude and Marcel began to resist the Nazi occupation through their art, with Claude posing as ‘the soldier with no name’, and although they were eventually caught, narrowly escaped execution.

The presentation of the story was powerful in its simplicity. I felt that they did a lot with a very intimate space, creating multiple locations which were mostly distinguished through the use of lighting (Matthew Bliss) and video projection (Jeffrey Choy).

Throughout the show I watched with a feeling that Claude came across as rather selfish and Suzanne wasn’t given much of a character arc or credit for her part in the work they did together, which falls into place at the end when the final line describes her as ‘the artist with no name’, a powerful way to explain her lack of identity. Amelia Armande does a beautiful job of creating their character as strong and powerful and portraying her in such a way that the audience care for her and feel empathic, all the while making her voiceless and unimportant next to Claude, despite all their efforts being collaborative. Amelia somehow made Suzanne interesting by making her dull and uninteresting which worked incredibly well and served as a fascinating take on such a character.

Claude and Suzanne’s photographs were only exhibited once in their lifetime, in 1930. It feels really special to have them displayed once again, video projected onto the set as part of the production. This play is an incredibly important and scarily relevant watch, and pays a lovely homage to our soldier and artist with no name.