★★★★★ Here There Are Blueberries Review: @Stratford East
Play with incredible, historic and horrifying stories
I knew this show involved photographs from the Second World War and the Holocaust, connected to Auschwitz and Birkenau. As someone who has visited these places and watched countless documentaries, I wondered what this production could possibly show me that I didn’t already know. Stratford East, however, has a strong track record for work of exceptional quality, and this production now sits firmly among my favourites.
After the show, I discovered that it transferred from New York, where it was a Pulitzer Prize finalist—something that makes complete sense given what unfolds on stage.
From the opening moments, the play grips you. It introduces a set of photographs from Auschwitz that have never been publicly seen before 2007. These pictures quite incredible, donated to the US Holocaust Museum. What quickly becomes clear is that these are not images of the victims, but of the everyday lives of the people who worked within the concentration camp system. If The Zone of Interest was unsettling in its portrayal of domestic normality beside atrocity, this production goes much further—using real photographs to expose, in extraordinary detail, how disturbingly ordinary life was for those living and working next to a factory of death.
That is the premise of this remarkable play, and it is unfolded with great care and precision. The stage design features a large, beautiful screen at the back, accompanied by smaller mobile screens resembling slide projectors. The space is continually reconfigured as the narrative evolves. The lighting design deserves particular praise: not only is it visually stunning, but it feels absolutely of its time. Images are handled with extraordinary sensitivity—when attention is drawn to a specific detail in a photograph, the rest gently fades away, leaving only what matters. It is genuinely difficult to convey in words just how accomplished this piece of theatre is; it must be seen.
We learn about the album itself and the surrounding areas near the camp, including a social community building that was not demolished until 2007. We see smiling, laughing people—women, teenage girls—who worked within the camp system. We hear about doctors, respected professionals, who decided who was fit to work and who was not. Each individual is responsible for only a small part of the machinery, yet collectively they enable mass murder. These unseen photographs reveal a chilling sense of normality within a system of death.
The play opens a window onto the lives and mindsets of Nazi perpetrators and complicit professionals. During the 1930s and 1940s, German society underwent a gradual but accelerating collapse of ethical and moral values across professions—doctors, lawyers, accountants, and others. Their role sits at the heart of this production and raises urgent questions about professional ethics today.
This is theatre doing exactly what theatre should do: telling stories that matter, with intelligence and restraint.
It is profoundly tragic that, knowing this history, we still witness genocides being carried out in the present day. This production is a stark reminder of why such acts must never be allowed to happen casually or unchecked. It shows not only the horror of the past, but how many people simply returned to ordinary lives after the war.
A small spoiler follows, so stop reading if you plan to see the show.
The play ends with the discovery of another photo album, found when the camps were liberated. After the war, these images became evidence in Nazi trials and a means for survivors to identify themselves or lost family members. In some cases, descendants discovered—through these photographs—that their families had been involved in the camps at all.
This is documentary theatre at its finest: factual, meticulous, and never manipulative, though the subject matter alone leaves the audience stunned.
For me, the combination of lighting and storytelling was absolutely top-drawer, supported by excellent performances throughout. I have no doubt this play will be widely recognised, and for anyone with an interest in history, ethics, or theatre, it is utterly gripping.
