Imprisoned by the English, unransomed by Charles VII although he owed his coronation to her, the 19-year-old Jeanne d'Arc was convicted of heresy by an ecclesiastical court and burned at the stake in Rouen in 1431. 

From the age of 12, this illiterate girl from a peasant family had had visions of saints urging the expulsion of the English armies from France. Through force of personality she managed to reach the court of the despairing Dauphin Charles, who agreed to incorporate her as a standard bearer and leader in his army. Twenty-four years after her execution, an inquiry authorized by Pope Callixtus III declared her a martyr, unjustly convicted.

That convenient finding, at the end of the Hundred Years' War, meant that the kingship of Charles VII was freed of any taint of heresy. Jeanne has been a powerful symbol for the French people since then. The church beatified her in 1909 and in 1920 declared her a saint.

Daniella Paluselli takes for this one-woman presentation the dark despair of Jeanne's last night in prison. On a bare stage strewn with straw and furnished with only a bench, some blankets and a couple of buckets, Jeanne appears just as the order of condemnation has fallen. She has collapsed, overcome, rejecting the verdict and seized with fear. Over the course of the following 50 minutes Paluselli explores Jeanne and her dialogue with the mute voice of God.

La pucelle -- the virgin -- is bereft of the comfort of the visions of her inspiration. Under the press of intense emotion, she drifts into a sort of delirium in which she tells the empty prison cell of her upbringing and her desires for an ordinary life. Scenes of her battles haunt her, particularly the lifeless corpse of an English peasant soldier, and she wrestles with themes of sin, evil and retribution. In one strong sequence she stands as crook-backed as a hag and verbally hangs sins on each of us, her unseen spectators. Gradually Jeanne comes to calm and acceptance, a soul swimming up from black depths toward a shimmering surface of light.

Joan of Arc, The Night Before. . . . has the naked force of psycho-drama, a quality that is both its strength and its weak point. The audience sees violent emotion and understands the depth of Paluselli's commitment to this vision. In a quiet discussion after the piece, she acknowledged that her exploration of Jeanne arose from unspecified personal circumstances.

The patent sincerity of text and actor are hindered by Paluselli's imperfect theatrical technique. She speaks principally from the throat rather than from the diaphragm, rendering large chunks of emotional text inaudible for me. The vivacious young woman sitting next to me said she'd understood Daniela's text entirely. I meditated briefly on the misfortunes of ageing senses but concluded that my ears were not so far gone as to useless, if the speaker uses proper theatrical force and diction. The Boyd Vance Theatre is a cavernous space; Paluselli's voicing was more suited to a studio or, indeed, to a large living room.

Director Marino Enidos moves Paluselli effectively in that harrowing space, providing imaginative uses of the few props available to the actor. Behind my wall of apparent semi-deafness I sensed that action and scenes were designed in credible beats and interior movement.

Paluselli and her production company Ad Astera provide a small but beautiful, glossy program, and they offer DVDs of Joan of Arc, The Night Before. . . It's unfortunate that their publicity for the general public appears to have been limited. This is a piece that could serve to spur discussion, particularly for a church-related audience or a group engaged in ethical, religious or psychological concerns.

I first heard of the presentation from an acquaintance who'd attended on the first of three weekends. Perhaps clued by him, the producers contacted me before the final weekend. Austin resident Paluselli has no fixed schedule for future presentations, but she remains committed to the story of La Pucelle d'Orleans.

Click to view comments from audience for weekends of September 18-20 and 25-27 

EXTRA

Click to view program of Joan of Arc, The Night Before. . . . by Daniela Paluselli