Alabanza / Ali / Gordon Contemporary Plays by Black British Writers

1. Auflage 2021
ISBN: 978-1-78850-464-5
Verlag: Nick Hern Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 416 Seiten

Reihe: NHB Modern Plays

'Welcome. Welcome to Bristol in 1963. Welcome to Waterloo Bridge in 2016. Welcome to a house in May 2017. Welcome to three couples and what might be, what once was and what could have been in 2017. Welcome to a West Indian household in 2018. Welcome to London in 2018. Welcome to the past, present and - crucially - the future.' This anthology brings together six plays, all written or performed since 2017, by six brilliant Black British writers - Travis Alabanza, Firdos Ali, Natasha Gordon, Arinzé Kene, Chinonyerem Odimba and debbie tucker green. The plays demonstrate a rich range of settings, forms, styles, locations, scales, contents and concerns - and explore themes including politics and protest, grief and colonisation, relationships and gender. They have been seen on stages including the National Theatre, the Royal Court, the Bush and Bristol Old Vic, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, in the West End, and on tour of the UK. Selected and introduced by leading theatre director Natalie Ibu, Contemporary Plays by Black British Writers celebrates a multiplicity of stories authored by Black playwrights in the UK over the last decade.

Travis Alabanza is an award-winning writer, performer and theatre-maker. Their writing has appeared on the BBC, in the Guardian, Vice and gal-dem; they had a fortnightly column in Metro, and have been featured in numerous anthologies, including Black and Gay in the UK. After being the youngest recipient of the artist-in-residency programme at Tate Galleries, Alabanza's debut show Burgerz toured internationally to sold-out performances, including at the Southbank Centre, to São Paulo, Brazil, HAU Berlin, and it won the Edinburgh Fringe Total Theatre Award in 2019. In 2020 their theatre show Overflow debuted at the Bush Theatre, London, to widespread acclaim and later streamed online in over twenty-two countries. Other works for theatre and live performance include for the Royal Court Living Newspaper, Paines Plough, Free Word Centre, Glasgow Transmission Gallery and more. Their work surrounding gender, trans identity and race has been noted internationally, and they have given talks at universities including Oxford, Harvard and Bristol, among others. Noted for their distinct voice, in 2019 the Evening Standard listed them as one of the twenty-five most influential under twenty-five-year-olds - as well as being listed in the Dazed 100, the Guardian asking if 'they are the future of theatre', and being listed on the Forbes 30 Under 30 List.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Alabanza, Travis

Ali, Firdos

Gordon, Natasha

Green, Debbie Tucker

Kene, Arinzé

Odimba, Chinonyerem

Weitere Mitwirkende

Ibu, Natalie

Leseproben

ACT ONE

Scene One

VIRUS

‘City Creature’

VIRUS
A lot of crazy shit happens on the night bus,
One shouldn’t settle disputes on the night bus,
Shouldn’t settle disputes after ten at night, boss,
It’s only ever gonna end up in a fight, truss.

Here is the city that we live in,
Notice that the city that we live in is alive,
Analyse our city and you’ll find, that our city even has bodily features,
Our city’s organs function like any living creature,
Our city a living creature,
A living breathing city creature broken in to boroughs,
Mostly living creatures are broken in to organs,
For the city creature each borough is an organ,
And if we’re saying that the boroughs be the organs now,
You might liken the borough that I live in to the bowel,
So if boroughs be the organs of our city creature,
Then our motorways are the arteries of city creatures,
The high streets be arterioles of city creatures,
And each road is a capillary.

You’ll notice that travelling down these blood vessels of our living city creature,
Night buses are packed with blood cells, red and white,
Them’s the passengers, you and you, it’s a normal night,
Some of you alight, more of you get on and pack it tight,
But all is well,
Cos blood cell to blood cell there’s nothing to fear,
Not unless something sneaks in through the back door before the driver has a chance to shut it
And it’s pushing

and it’s nudging
and it’s shoving up the place
and you can’t see its face, cos it’s got a
hoodie on its head
but see its waist, cos it’s got its
trousers down its legs,
so you can see its [boxer shorts].
[But of course],
you ain’t judging,
cos it’s nothing
that you ain’t seen before.
You’re just collectively ‘aware’ of him, and nothing’s wrong with that
cos he jumped in through the back,
and blood cells don’t like scraggy surprises coming through the back door in dark baggy disguises,
it peaks the nervousness, the whole blood temperature rises,
and for safety purposes, word to the wise, avert your eyes, and sit in silence.
The doors close, the night bus pulls away, so now there’s no getting off,
And if you’re wise enough! You’ll know not all of us! Aboard this bus! Are blood cells…
Nah,
One of us is virus.
Geh-geh.

Some toxic irreversible shits are bound to visit the night bus,
One shouldn’t settle disputes on the night bus,
Shouldn’t settle disputes after ten at night, boss,
You’re only gonna get infected by some virus.

I jump the night bus,
And it’s packed,
That’s the only reason I came in through the back,
Cos when it’s packed the driver won’t open the front,
But I ain’t gonna stand in the rain like a cunt

As soon as I’m on, I realise I’m the only virus one
Apart from the driver chauffeuring in the front,
But he’s sat there in the glass cage
which implies that he’s had his last days of virus rage
Anti-viral oppression probably rendered him depressed and submissive
bereft of the spirit,
compliant, not a breath of defiance left in him
since they arrested him and disinfected him.

I’m on the lower deck,
The bus is so rammed, I have to stand, by the door,
I keep getting ()
Nudged in the back by this ()
Drunk prick and I swear ()
He nudges me one more –
‘Oi oi oi, watch it yeah. You see ? I’m standing here. I’m already pissed off tonight so – ’ ()

I must look like a pussy,
Because this dickhead pushes me,
The whole bus goes silent,
How can I not get violent?

I look this blood cell in the eye like ‘what’s happening?’
I crack my knuckles, step to him and start cackling,
Other passengers back away fearfully nattering,
I get to happy slapping him, blood cell splattering,
Batter him, nothing else mattering,
Bet he won’t ever, consider, doing that again.

Get off the bus,
Don’t have to run,
I just away,
That’s how it’s done,
No need to panic,
Keep calm and carry on.

Scene Two

RAYMOND ARINZÉ

VOICEMAIL. Welcome to your EE voicemail.

To listen to your messages, press one –

()

You have, one, new message,

left today, at,

6:47 a.m.

MUSICIANS RAYMOND DONNA

RAYMOND. Arinzé, hey dude, tis Raymond here.

Sorry I didn’t stick around last night to give you feedback,

I had daddy duties –

()

She’s been… difficult –

DONNA. Every time I change her diaper she does another shit!

RAYMOND. She’s been driving Donna crazy, so forgive me for keeping this brief.

Bro, I hope you appreciate me telling you this as a friend,

I had issues, with your story –

( DONNA )

I mean, the whole ‘guy beats someone up on a night bus’ thing?

It felt like another…

DONNA. Generic angry young black man!

()

ARINZÉ

RAYMOND. I looked around and most of the audience were… most of them don’t look like us.

DONNA. They seemed to love it!

RAYMOND. As soon we walked out Donna turned to me and said ‘Arinzé sold out and wrote an play.’

DONNA. Nah that’s not what I said. I said ‘Arinzé sold out and wrote a nigga play.’ You wrote a nigga play so your work would get on. Ain’t nothing but a modern minstrel show.

RAYMOND

RAYMOND. Arinzé, I gotta sort this child out, man.

Listen, bro, I’m sorry if this sounds harsh but… () do not have kids, man.

You don’t want none of this.

This will turn you into an angry young black man for real.

VOICEMAIL. To save message, press –

()

Message, deleted.

To return the call, press –

()

ARINZÉ

You have reached the voicemail box, for,

‘’

Please leave a message after the beep.

Once you have left your message,

key hash for more options.

()

ARINZÉ. Raymond.

Donna.

Arinzé here.

Hope you guys are good.

Just got your fucking voicemail.

I don’t know if you guys are aware but…

You’re not writers.

Raymond, you’re a chef.

Maybe you should stick to… fucking chefing?

VOICEMAIL.

()

If you would like to re-record this message please press –

()

Message deleted.

Please leave a message after the beep.

Once you have left your message,

key hash for more options.

()

ARINZÉ (). Raymond! Donna!

I got your message… so lovely to hear from the three of you.

Donna is a joker, that whole ‘nigga play’ thing gave me pure jokes.

I’m still laughing now. Was she joking?

I’ve never heard of that term before.

She joking though right?

Because this ain’t just some nigga play. My nigga characters have well-thought-out nigga story arcs and shit. Haha…

ARINZÉ

()

()… Haha! I’m playing, man.

Anyway broski… thanks for the advice, I’m gonna let it marinate and uh…

We’ll talk soon.

Beaucoup blessings,

Slugs and fishes, hugs and kisses, my bro.

ARINZÉ