Reviews

Curried Goat and Fish Fingers and Check the Label Bristol Old Vic theatre review

Posted on: 2016-02-28

I don?t care what colour someone is, I don?t believe it to be any indication of whether they are a good or bad person, honest or dishonest, clever or stupid, a good or bad dancer, or whether their preference will be for the music of Marley or Mahler.

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Vivienne Kennedy reviews Curried Goat and Fish Fingers and Check the Label, a spoken word double-bill presented in the studio at Bristol Old Vic on Saturday 27th February

“To inform, educate, and entertain”

Lord Reith’s famous summary of the BBC’s role neatly sums up what I hope to get from an evening at the theatre and last night’s two shows in the studio at Bristol Old Vic certainly provided all three elements in abundance.

First up was Curried Goat and Fish Fingers, written and performed by Edson Burton and Miles Chambers, two friends who met through the Bristol Black Writers Group. The hour-long piece explores and celebrates the quirks of Black Britishness and gives the audience plenty to think about, challenging some preconceptions. It’s interesting to hear both men talk of their experiences of being black in the UK but also of being instantly recognised as Englishmen when they visit Jamaica.

I Wanna Be Treated Normal by Miles Chambers is perhaps the piece that will stay with me the longest. He doesn’t seem to be asking for much, just for people to all be treated the same, not to be given more or less because they’re black or white. He wonders whether he’s being realistic or whether the colour of his skin is always the first thing we’ll see – “what was it that you noticed when you first looked at me?”

It made me wonder how many people can honestly say that the colour of someone’s skin isn’t the first thing they clock, closely followed by whether they’re fat or thin and the colour of their hair. I am white, fat, brunette (grey actually, but, y’know, there’s dye to fix that), but my appearance doesn’t tell you anything about who I am.

I don’t care what colour someone is, I don’t believe it to be any indication of whether they are a good or bad person, honest or dishonest, clever or stupid, a good or bad dancer, or whether their preference will be for the music of Marley or Mahler. It’s certainly not a basis for forming judgements, but can I put my hand on my heart and say that I don’t notice? No, I can’t.

Check the Label, written and performed by Eno Mfon and directed by Tanuja Amarasuriya, was in some ways more disturbing to watch. It explores colourism within the black community, looking at a beauty ideal that declares paler skin and “relaxed” hair to be more acceptable than dark skin and natural afro-textured hair. It looks at sisterhood and the gaps that grow once the colour of a sister’s skin begins to fade.

The show, which, like Curried Goat and Fish Fingers, is an hour long, is punctuated with video clips. One shows young children being interviewed by a researcher working on Tyra Banks’s show. They are talking about whether they love or hate their appearance, one donning a blonde wig to say that she feels people like her more when she has Hannah Montana hair.

Another shows a clip from the show itself, a beautiful black lady talking about the damage she has done to her skin by using domestic bleach in an attempt to lighten her skin colour. Tyra looks aghast that anyone should do that to themselves, but I couldn’t help noticing that her own hair has been relaxed into long waves.

Playground songs and clapping games; the sharing of memories of quality time spent with her sister; and an audio recording of a black man describing his ideal “baby mama” illustrates that the pressure to conform...the pressure to change...starts young and continues always. Eno finishes with the repeated recitation of the ingredients that make up a “relaxing” solution, the names of the chemicals not sounding as if they could cause anything other than damage.

Check the Label has been developed through the Bristol Ferment programme, proof once again that if you are hoping for excellent writing it’s the brand to look out for.

As we left the theatre I commented that the phrase “check your privilege” seemed particularly appropriate, an hour or so later my +1 used the same expression in her, very complimentary, Facebook status about the evening (she may also have remarked upon Miles Chambers being the sexiest man she has ever seen). Until there is no longer a reason for that phrase to exist, I guess we will still have problems.

4/5

To see what’s coming up next at Bristol Old Vic, visit www.bristololdvic.org.uk.

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