A single candle flickers in the darkness, soon joined by others, illuminating a niche in which stands a pale statue of the Virgin Mary. She holds a stuffed toy lamb, her halo spinning gaudily, her heart glowing with a kitsch electronic light. The stage is black marble, ringed with a velvet rope. A single chair and a cardboard box are the only furniture in this sombre space.

Slowly, the statue moves. A porcelain hand is discarded, giving way to a human hand, as the Virgin Mary sheds the symbolic trappings that history has bestowed upon her. Robe, wig and mask fall away to reveal a woman – played by Alison Whyte – dressed simply in pants and tank-top.

^{Alison Whyte in Sydney Theatre Company’s The Testament of Mary, all photos by Lisa Tomasetti}

It is Mary’s humanity, rather than her divinity, that Colm Tóibín explores in his monologue (also a novella) The Testament of Mary, brought to life in this production by Sydney Theatre Company. Tóibín’s Mary is a political refugee living in hiding in a foreign land, forced to flee Jerusalem after the death of her son. She is hidden by – or...