I
was covering the Edinburgh festivals in August when rioting and looting
began in my home neighbourhood of Tottenham and spread first to other
areas of London and then other cities in England and Wales.
Consequently, this is not that awkward instance of reviewing a
dramatisation of events I know first-hand. But I am familiar with the
landscape depicted through much of the first half of Gillian Slovo’s
verbatim-based piece, with the community voices recounting their
experience of those occurrences, and also with the unarticulated and
intangible dimensions behind them. I know when Slovo has conflated or
ellipsed matters, when looters appear onstage with plunder which,
modest though it is, is still too upmarket for Tottenham High Road. And
we are all too accustomed to the plethora of voices passing comment on
the overall phenomenon throughout the second half of this two-hour
evening.
In a venue as steadfastly
socially engaged as the Tricycle it was shocking and even a little
disgusting to hear on press night a few examples of the kind of
response that comes from middle-class spectators who think themselves
safely insulated from the world depicted onstage. When one character
mentioned at the beginning of his testimony that he lived in a flat
above CarpetRight (the store whose blazing shell provided one of the
iconic images of the riots), the scattering of chuckles were not merely
at the dramatic irony. The isolated snicker that greeted the mere
appearance as a character of Diane Abbott MP was simply knee-jerk
prejudice. Elsewhere, though, the laughter of derision is well
deserved, especially as Tory minister Michael Gove (played with
confusingly Tony Blair-like hand gestures) seems to deny any political
responsibility for the social and economic backdrop to the chaos. And
it testifies to the venue’s reputation in this field that a number of
the voices onstage are those of folk who, having heard about the
project, initiated contact themselves to give their own testimony.
The
Trike’s outgoing artistic supremo Nicolas Kent directs with the skill
he invariably brings to such verbatim productions, and a 14-strong cast
including Steve Toussaint, Cyril Nri and Dona Croll represent a range
of figures in politics, policing, community and sometimes just in
hoodies. Each interviewee is asked to characterise the rioters in three
words: “opportunist” crops up more than once, but so does “frustrated”
and above all “lost”. As regards efforts to reclaim them, the still
gap-toothed High Road speaks to me of that continuing deficit every day.
Written for the Financial
Times.