Transland

This year, as some of you will know, I wrote, directed and produced a play called Rachael's Cafe. It was, in short, a one hour one-man play created through interviews with its real life protagonist. This protagonist happened to be a pre-op transgender living on the Bible Belt in Indiana, USA where she runs an 'inclusive' cafe. I wanted to write a play, but I didn't set out to write a 'transgender' play.

Admittedly, though not involved in it myself, I have always been drawn to exploring, through theatre, the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) scene. My previous directorial role was for Torchsong Trilogy, and I'm an avid fan of other similarly focused productions, but this is entirely subconscious and I certainly wasn't looking to get further involved when I stumbled across the raw material for Rachael's Cafe.

Transgender is, anyway, quite a step away from the LGB bit of LGBT. While the first three deal with sexual orientation, the latter deals solely with gender rather than with any sort of sexual preference. For this reason it is a little uncomfortably lumped in with the rest causing great disparity in peoples' general understanding of what exactly it means to be transgender.

Having spent hours interviewing the real Rachael Jones, meeting and talking with a variety of transgender people around the UK, shopping for the necessary underwear and make-up, teaching a man to walk in shoes and dealing with a very straight actor's issues regarding getting to grips with his feminine side to such a degree, I have to admit the entire concept still perplexes me a great deal. I completely comprehend that this is not a choice for the individuals involved. Having witnessed the damage it can potentially wreak on an individual, a family, on a life, I know that wanting to change your gender is not a whim, a rebellion or a selfish act, it is for most an entirely necessary act and, for some, a matter of life and death.

I'd only met one transgender person before Rachael. I was 16 at the time and I remember that the main reason this person had been pointed out to me was because she was not passable, she was not the norm and I, in no way, truly got to know her as a human being. Looking back I now wonder how many people really did take the time to get to know her.

As I was working on the play two things struck me:

1. There are a lot of transgender people! Almost everyone I stopped to talk about the play with (whether in London whilst fundraising or in Edinburgh while flyering) knew a transgender person. Last week I took my car into the garage and my mechanic told me his best friend was transitioning, I went to my local pub in Canterbury and one of the regulars confided she used to be a man. Rachael was an anomaly, unique, to me but now I was learning that there were hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the exact same scenario as her.

2. Transgender people were not enjoying the same amount of support or understanding as the Gay community. I think this partly comes back to the fact that transgender sits a little uncomfortably in the LGBT acronym, but it means that people truly do not understand it. From the LadyBoys of Bangkok to the fetishisation of the transitioning body, there is a very small box into which we try to squeeze the entire trans issue and it simply doesn't reflect the majority of these people who are trying to live as an average person whether that be male or female. I found that contacting gay magazines, communities and fundraising centres was easy to do and all above board. I found that there were a lot less of these outlets for the trans community and I found contacting dressing services for transgender people was incredibly difficult. Firstly there are not a huge amount of these services, secondly they seem to be scattered in basements and attics across London, thirdly they seem to open and close at the rate of knots and lastly there is a veil of privacy surrounding everything since so many trans people are 'in the closet'. We went to a wig company calling themselves the best in 'Gender Transformations' and yet the stylist spent the entire time commenting on the size of my actor's head, his large features and the fact he wasn't 'passable' as a woman. He was mortified, imagine if someone desperate to transition was in that chair? In the end, almost everything I managed to organise was done through word-of-mouth. I posted on forums, asked for introductions and people sent me their own clothes, wigs and shoes.

Once back from Edinburgh this year a television programme on Channel 4 suddenly appeared that seemed to change everything. My Transsexual Summer, featuring a host of pre-op, post-op and transitioning individuals, instantly brought transgenders to the fore. Issues such as visiting the local pub, looking passable and applying for jobs were tackled head on and the public started to be gently, and honestly, educated. This was followed up with the BBC's Coming Out Diaries and a flurry of articles in women's magazines as people suddenly rushed to tell their stories of transitioning and get it all out in the open.

I can only imagine the collective sigh of relief that transgender people all over the UK breathed as this series aired. And people being relieved, relaxed, feeling 'right' can only be a good thing.

Twitter: @rachaelscafe1
Facebook: rachaelscafetheplay
www.littleflytheatre.com

Why Realistic Fiction is My Genre...and a Worthy One at That

Ever since I can remember I've been crazy about fiction. From the first time my parents pointed at a yellow puppy and read out 'This is Spot, See Spot Run!' I was hooked. The books I grew up reading now make up a major portion of my childhood nostalgia. I'm still an avid reader and can devour whole novels in days, sometimes even hours, often illiciting anguished pleas from my mother to 'please pace yourself...make the book last!' as I hand her a dog-eared copy of a book that's been everywhere with me -the bath, the toilet, bed- in the 24 hours since we've purchased it at WHSmiths.

Stories are at the heart of what I love about working in, and experiencing, the arts. I spent four years at university shuddering through classes on performance art, descriptive novels and abstract theatre pieces. If it didn't have a narrative it rarely touched me. I needed the story as a structure on which to hang the emotions and/or techniques of the piece, to make them make sense to me.

I'll read most types of fiction whether it be sci-fi, the classics or something downright farcical. However, what really strikes a chord in me is realistic, contemporary fiction, whether this is in a book, a play or a film. I know that many people find it boring and pointless to while away the hours plowing through a stranger's descriptions of and points of view regarding family life, work problems, romantic crises and more, when the majority of us could just step outside and experience them for ourselves. I understand why many can't see the reasoning in reading about the world's issues under cover of fiction when they could research them more accurately in a non-fiction paper or book. I comprehend all these views and, for a while recently, they consumed me as I wondered what exactly I thought I was doing by wallowing in this genre. Was I really doing anything worthy in the Arts by fabricating people and situations, by adding more emotions and confusion and nonexistent events to those already piling up in the real world? Perhaps, I thought, I should be reading political journals, economic papers and case studies of domestic and worldwide events?

For me though the existence of fiction makes perfect sense. So much of the media we're confronted with on a daily basis is contaminated in some way. The newspapers all have their own angle, as do politicians, and any interview you read/watch with a celebrity, actor, musician etc. will almost always be tweaked to ensure it promotes their brand rather than their truth. Every quote, every expression, is carefully placed to alert the reader that this is a cool person, a good person, a sexy person etc. I find it less honest than fiction. For me fiction is the genuine communication of an author's feelings, ideology and experiences. Working through the filter of a fictional narrative means that concerns and emotions can be shared almost anonymously, being contributed to the story and/or the characters rather than to themselves. For this reason, for me, this kind of fiction represents the most truthful medium through which to study our world, because it's never promising to be the truth, only one person's truth, and that's a reflection of the way our world works.

The celebrated Sixties photographer David Bailey once said that 'It takes a lot of imagination to be a good photographer. You need less imagination to be a painter, because you can invent things. But in photography everything is so ordinary; it takes a lot of looking before you learn to see the ordinary'. I feel this way about literary realism. Though it may seem unimaginative and banal to rely on what's already here to create art, there are so many people in the world and so many situations, that there are never-ending opportunities to combine actions, reactions, opinions, situations, values, character traits and more. Each author brings a fresh perspective, perhaps taking the same sorts of characters and situations, but filtering their behaviours and outcomes through their own personal viewpoint and experiences. For example, if you're the parent of a disabled child and you read The Memory Keeper's Daughter you might find that the terrible words and behaviours of some characters in the novel are relevant to you, but are rarely communicated by people in your real life due to the nature and sensitivity of the situation. You could then pick up The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and come across an entirely different look at the topic.

In my life time so far I have come across so many wonderful people who have been partly or wholly inspired, affected or comforted by the fictional literary realism that they hold closest to their hearts. Whether it's music, art, acting or singing that's involved, the medical and psychological industries are becoming more and more open to utilising therapies that deal with their patient's truths through artistic mediums. Obviously, there is something about being able to filter reality through a fictional construct that can help it make sense or become digestible. Jodi Picoult is an author who deals with the difficult moral and ethical dilemmas so many come across in modern day life and her devoted readership reflects the effect her books have on so many. George Orwell's 1984 is a book wholly relevant to today's Western society as a whole, expressing disdain, warning and concern in a way that has retained its power over many years. Kafka's The Trial is still oft quoted as a true reflection of 'the system', the phrase 'Kafkaesque Nightmare' most recently used in an online forum to describe a frustrated woman's dealings with London Underground. 'The Colour Purple' lets us experience the emotional effects of being a black woman in the Deep South and, though humorous, Pride and Prejudice gets right down to the bones of the Victorians' preoccupation with wealth and status.

Some fiction is just that. Pure fiction. And some is simply the ramblings of a warped mind. Read intelligently, don't cut yourself off from the real world (e.g. the social miscreants who seem to read Catcher in the Rye as a call to commit misdeeds) and understand that you're reading fiction. But always be open to catching the message of the author, understand how human this character is, how wise that comment - enjoy the fiction and digest the truth.

Actors Vs Comedians: Finding Work is No Joke

Everyone likes to laugh. Well, not everyone. I’ve met the odd few who prefer to sit miserably sulking in a corner but, for the most part, laughing is a particularly popular pastime. It expresses happiness, it works those ab muscles and, doctors tell us, it’s fantastic for our health. So it’s no wonder that during these past few war-themed, politically murky, recession filled years, stand-up comedy has wriggled its nimble little self into almost every facet of the creative entertainment industry. Switch on the television and, within minutes, you’ll be faced with a grinning comedian headlining a campaign for insurance. Stephen Merchant for Barclays, Jason Manford for Churchill, Omid Djallili for MoneySupermarket.com. Comedians also have sitcoms covered (Ricky Gervais The Office, Jack Dee Lead Balloon, Simon Amstell Grandma’s House, Hugh Dennis Outnumbered, Miranda Hart Miranda),theatre (Lenny Henry Othello, Comedy of Errors, Matt Lucas Prick Up Your Ears, Omid Djalili Oliver) and even television dramas (Miranda Hart Call the Midwife,Peter Kay Doctor Who.)!

So where does this leave actors?

We’re all realistic enough to appreciate that getting your face on the TV often makes you a much more desirable casting option to a theatre. From my first foray into this industry I learnt the importance of actors putting aside their pride for a day, bagging a commercial and then flitting back to the theatre whilst living off the advert’s repeat fees. With this base covered, comedians are now in the front line for much of the subsequent TV, film and theatre casting plus continue doing their live work.

The differences between the working ways of actors and comedians are the basis of why this is becoming an issue. Many actors just act. They form part of a chain,becoming the characters visualised by another craftsman, a writer, and are shaped by a director. Actors audition for roles and, when they’re not cast in something,they’re generally, uh, ‘resting’. They have a branding, a USP, to some point, but really their job is to lend themselves to whatever character or situation they are playing and assimiliate into the production. Comedians, providing they’re proactive,can perform, paid or unpaid, every night of the week around the country, accessing new audiences and building up fans continuously. Comedians are very lucky in that they develop a persona and brand that defines them throughout their career, and gives casting directors a much easier job of comprehending where they might fit into a production.

My concern is that the appetite for the fast, easy, recognisable appeal of the stand-up and the attachment of their name to a project will reduce the opportunities for actors to hit our stages and screens with subtle, developed and moving performances. Perhaps its time for the actors themselves to fight back? Maybe its time for them to adapt their way of working, promoting and branding to compete with the new kids in this brave new world? Only time will tell.

Happy New Year - The Scene at Home

The scene: Mum has put the household on a New Year's Diet.

Dad: Did Mum explain this diet to you? I don't know what I'm allowed to eat now.
Lucy: You may have an oatcake. Or a piece of fruit.
Dad: All day?
Lucy: No. At lunchtime you may have a salad.
Dad: A chocolate salad?
Lucy: No
Dad: That doesn't count as salad?
Lucy: No.
Dad: I don't like this diet.