Full English, by Bent Architect and Natalie Davies is a remarkable production. The story is based upon the personal history of Natalie Davies whose Nan, in the late fifties fell in love with one of the first migrants from Pakistan. Their family experienced racism and their mixed race* children struggled with their identity as they tried to work out where they belonged.
The story is both beautiful and challenging: Beautiful in that it draws upon and glories in the strength of women who banded together, and challenging in the language and attitudes of the times in which it was set. An experience of a holiday in Blackpool which began as joyous turned into a terrifying experience and was so raw, it must have been drawn from a lived experience.
The play spotlights a moment in history from a unique perspective. It reminds the viewer, intensely, of the hideousness of racism, and invites the suggestion, perhaps, that we have grown and moved forward. But before we are too self-congratulatory about how liberal we have become the production also reminds us of how rarely we see such narratives on our stages.
This blog post is an unashamed fan piece – I loved this production. I grew up in the 70s and 80s and spent time in the Bradford/Manningham areas in which it was set. There were queer pubs in the Manningham area – marginalised people of different tribes find peculiar safety in their marginalisation, if not their differences. I remember the riots (the queer pub I went to burned down). I remember the tensions and the hate of the NF bigots and thugs. I felt a connection to the history but the stories in this piece took me on such a journey of perspective. Despite my Anti-Nazi League badges and attendance at demos, my memories had little rooted understanding of what black and brown communities were experiencing. I felt awestruck when I left the theatre. The play was funny, sad, uplifting, thought-provoking and so beautifully crafted. The writing of this piece is extraordinary – the flow of movement between generations and memory is done so well and the stage direction of how it is delivered is a lesson in which less is so much more.
The play ‘Full English’ is honestly fabulous, amazing and wonderful. If you get a chance to see it, you should. Listing of dates is at this link. I really hope this is picked up for film or TV – it should be.
Shout out to the cast who oozed talent. Faye Weerasinghe (Natalie); Lucy Hird (Cath/Nan); Kamal Kaan (Sohail/various).
*I am aware the term ‘mixed race’ is contested. It is used both in the play and on the information sheet provided by the production team and so the terminology used in and by the production team is used in this blog.
Thanks to @BentArchitectCo for images. Apologies I do not have info to credit the photographer.
I’ve previously blogged about my experience of writing and performing a monologue as part of a Roots Touring production of ‘Queer Spaces’. The production was staged at The Stephen Joseph Theatre and also the York Theatre Royal.
The Assistant Producer and Literary Coordinator of the Stephen Joseph Theatre, the talented and lovely Fleur Hebditch (@Fleurhebditch) saw the production. She subsequently Directed the performance of my script again as part of the SJT’s ‘Second Stage’ which is described as a showcase for new writing talent.
My monologue was performed (beautifully by Jacky Naylor) alongside excerpts of scripts by Annie Fox (@anniekathfox) – ‘The Sleepwalkers’; Elizabeth Godber (@elle_godber) – ‘An Unexpected Birth’; Cara Christie (@CaraMChristie) – ‘Influenced’; Jingan Young (@jinganyoung) – ‘Hong Kong Tragedy’; Steven Bloomer (@stevenbloomer)– ‘The Burn’ and Sadar Mohammed’s ‘Ducks’.
After the performances, Annie, Elizabeth, Steven and I were invited to participate in a Q & A session with the audience. We had loads of astute questions from an enthusiastic audience and it was a warm, fun experience. It was also affirming to gain the support and encouragement for my writing.
And that is the point. The excerpts of plays showcased were without exception seriously good. Each touched on some thought-provoking themes including loss, dementia, and abuses of power. I personally hoped to be able to see each and every script fully staged and performed and from the audience reaction it was obvious others hoped for the same. But as any writer will confirm, it is ridiculously difficult to get one’s work noticed and scriptwriting has a difficulty niche all of its own.
The Stephen Joseph Theatre – in addition to being a pioneering theatre, film, and music venue with a reputation for delivering a marvellously diverse and entertaining programme also has an extraordinary participatory ethos. Its outreach programme involves all ages and communities, and actively seeks to encourage and support new writing, acting and performing talent and I cannot state strongly enough how important I think this work is.
I know from personal experience that freeing imagination is liberating. Through a process of enabling communities to represent their own experiences, the process of identity formation is strengthened and a sense of belonging and contribution can be facilitated. Moreover, the opportunity to present new voices means the opportunity for different life experiences to be seen and heard. Theatre outreach is progressive, arguably political, and has huge potential for the generation of positive and respectful approaches to social coexistence.
I am hugely grateful to the team at the Stephen Joseph Theatre for showcasing my work and for their dynamic approach to ‘theatre in community’.
I can’t end this post without giving a big shout out to the fabulous cast. Andrew Dunn (@theMr Andrew Dunn); Siu-see Hung (@siuseehung); Sarah Pearman (@_sarahpearman); Chris Jack and Jacky Naylor. They were amazing.
I am immensely proud of this contribution to Queer Spaces – a production produced by @Rootstouring. It is well written and I am no performer but I wanted to give it a go. I didn’t do bad all things considered. Mostly though, I am proud of making a small contribution to a dyke history archive which is, of course, a part of the LGBTQIA history archive. We were there, we were queer and we weren’t going shopping 🙂
In a previous blog post I pondered on what ‘queer spaces’ are
My contribution to the Roots Touring production of ‘Queer Spaces Live!’ was a reflective piece on, specifically, dyke bars I frequented in my younger days. I spoke about how the UK community/communities of queers fought so hard for the right for any and all spaces to be inclusive but we hadn’t, arguably, considered what we might lose once they are.
Thanks to the amazing Tyler Whiting for the photo!
Almost all of the spaces I came out into and grew up in have gone. Some we are well rid of (Wednesday evening community centre women’s discos, bring your own booze, finished at 10:00, dodge the mean feral youths who waited for us on the way out) but other spaces were places of growth and love and fun and adventure. They were places to meet and belong. They were uniquely lesbian and gay spaces – The Alex, Vox and Sill in Hull, The Marlborough, the Candy Bar and Revenge in Brighton. Four of those venues are closed. One is no longer a dyke bar but advertises as ‘everyone is welcome’. Only one specifically identifies as a specifically gay venue.
Does it matter? Should we lament the loss of so many distinctly queer spaces or celebrate that everywhere is potentially our space now?
I don’t know
What was fascinating about the Queer Spaces Live! production was that each of the performers spoke of claiming space in one way or the other, but a thread throughout each was that the spaces needed to be claimed. Whilst people were radically empowered to take the spaces there was a centrality to the essential nature of the spaces as queer; as distinct; as vulnerable.
The performances within Queer Spaces Live! Suggested to me that Queer Space is still, on the one hand contested for its challenge and, on the other hand, a place for forming identity. Queer spaces are still places of resistance. Do they need to be distinctly queer spaces to offer this?
I don’t know – but I think so
The Roots Touring Company created a queer space. It is what it does. For me there was an exciting circularity to the space being created and what the performers did with it – and that it felt like a space of bold activism as well as the creation of beautiful art.
I must give a shout out to the people involved. Oh. My. Days. My colleague performers were extraordinarily talented – and generously supportive of my own lack of performing talent (note: I am now a BAFTA level talent on acting ‘milling about’ thanks to their teaching – I owe you guys 🙂 ).
• Phoenix Andrews • Emma Bates • Joy Cruickshank • Erin Enfys • Arden Fitzroy • Max Percy • Ela Portnoy • Eliza Beth Stevens
presented stories of growth and love and challenge and joy and each were MAGNIFICENT. Keep an eye out for these names because they are uniquely and breathtakingly talented and they are going to take over the whole world. I can hardly believe I had the privilege and joy of sharing a stage with them.
None were forced to be involved in the performance. Like me, they chose to be in it – to invest their time and energy and share their powerful, compelling stories and lay themselves open to critique. It seems fairly safe to presume that also like me, they thought this was an important space to create. Were we individually and collectively invested in the creation of a specifically queer space?
(Eliza and Ela at Portal Bookshop in York. An inspiration for Eliza’s monologue)
I think so
I have to also give a shout out to the team that made Queer Spaces Live! happen. Producer Steven Atkinson, Director Ali Pidsley and Dramaturg Frazer Flintham. Despite the fact that I am literally old enough to be their mother and we play for different teams, I have a bit of a crush on all of them. A magician once told me that magic only looks convincingly effortless with hours and hours of work and commitment to being the best. These three created magic. They held the making of the performance so carefully and safely they enabled us all to grow. I am a better human being, more confident, and proud of myself because of their talent and I will literally never forget them for enabling me to perform
(Steven, Frazer and me after rehearsals).
Queer spaces provide us with places we can be ourselves and lower our defences. They give us a place for celebration and being together – and also places where we can value each other.
Queer spaces are where we are but not everywhere we might be, is a queer space
Until we can be confident about inclusivity, queer spaces have a crucial role in resistance to oppression.
Thanks to Roots Theatre Touring Company for creating one.
I’ve been lucky enough to be chosen as one of the writers contributing to the ‘Queer Spaces Live!’ project. Developed by Roots – the queer Yorkshire touring theatre company and support funded by Arts Council England and The National Lottery Community Fund – the project aims to make collaborative work about ‘queer spaces’. The stories created will be shared at two live performances at the Stephen Joseph Theatre Scarborough and the York Theatre Royal in March 2022.
I don’t struggle to make stories. I have far more stories than I have time to either write or craft. I know exactly which story I want to tell and contribute but the notion of queer spaces is so loaded with history and politics and pain and joy it feels incredibly important to me to tell it right and to tell it well.
I’ve been pondering on what exactly a queer space is
Is it about the environment – ‘in-space’ and ‘out space’? Certainly back when I came out there were very definite places where one could be reasonably safely out, and other spaces such as work where it was critical to be ‘in’ (teacher in 80s Thatcher Clause 28 Britain for example). As I write this I am mindful that there are many places in the world where ‘in-space’ is still the only safe space.
Is it about architecture? Dance floors in clubs, sites of sanctuary and refuge and the unlearning of shame, closets which concealed but also protected us.
I think of queer effort and energy put into constructing alternatives to heteronormative spaces and how over history they have changed from the dodgy, poppers smelling dens of debauchery of my youth to the out-and-fucking-well-proud-get-over-it-girlfriend cruises and high-end apartment complexes. We queers changed space.
I think about how the personal is political and how we inhabited and embodied space, strutted like peacocks affirming ourselves and others and how in the taking of space we didn’t always take enough care about who was taking what from whom.
I think about queer history and experiences of queer spaces back in the day and contemporarily being different for each of us for a myriad of complicated and politically loaded reasons.
And I wonder if I can do justice to all these stories.
Gratitude to Sand Crain for the flag on building and Juliette F for the dancing queens images – via Unsplash. Appreciate your work guys. Thank you. xx