My day #1 (the festival's day #7) of this whirlwind schedule saw me out in the far east
of London, visiting the newly-minted Applecart Arts for the first time.
The theatre has an interesting recent history. This year,
the former Stratford community centre transformed from its roots as a Methodist
Church, opening with a new lease and an arts-focused agenda. It’s not an
uncommon story for London – a former church turned community centre, no longer
profitable due to its surge of Olympics money coming to an end, then goes to
tender to try and find a new buyer. Inevitably, property developers swoop, and
the church must choose between profit and community.
This time, they chose the latter. Applecart theatre is the result
– a hybrid of community centre and theatre, housing many of the former
non-profit activities and housing a loosely curated program of festivals,
events, and one-off shows.
Voila!, I’m reliably told, is its first major event hosting –
and it’s a great way to plant seeds, both for the future of UK-European collaboration. The venue
has seen several performances as part of the festival, including a British collaboration about Goethe,
and last night, two monologues from women about immigrating to the UK – Expat
Underground (UK/ITA) and Rootlost (POL/UK). I’ll focus on the former, although
Rootlost, professionally performed by nomadic world citizen Magdelana Krohn, contains
some interesting crossovers with its preceding show.
Unless you happen to be not human, it’s hard not to love Expat Underground. Developed in the wake
of the UK’s referendum on European Union membership, the show is an
autobiographical retelling of performer Cecilia Gragnani’s 9-year emigration to
London. Beginning with naivety, the show traipses through the struggles and disappointment
of menial jobs, to her romantic encounter with a British man and feeling like a
foreigner in her own country. All the time, London speaks to her – literally,
in golden BBC voiceover by Steve Wickenden – explaining to her the hidden rules
and regulations of being a Londoner.
Image Credit: unknown
It’s admittedly a somewhat cliché premise, that could be the beginning of any number
of shows on the subject. But Gragnani’s charismatic personality, expert
management, and openness as a performer, as well as some great writing by
herself and compatriot Jvan Sica, more than overcome any lack in originality in the premise. The dramaturgy and direction from Katharina Reinthaller arrange
her personal account into chapters that weave together beautifully – from the
opening interrogation by a imaginary Border Agency officer (“but what if we
got married? What do you mean, it’s too late?”) through to Cecilia’s personal
experiences, to the finale which contextualises the struggle within a political
situation shared by countless others currently in the UK.
Of interest to me here is the particular way Gragnani
negotiates the dominant system of social relations. As an Italian originally, she is characteristically
optimistic and social, her misunderstandings arising from the bittersweet articulations
of her neighbours (who say a Wildean ‘lovely’, when they in fact mean quite something
else) and who stare at the ground as they walk past (reminiscent of another
Italian actress expressing to me her amusing distaste of German social relations – “They don’t look at
each other! They fuck with the app!”). Her own performance is tinged with a
British politeness, with criticisms introduced carefully, and the performance
itself obedient of the best British theatrical traditions of farce, as though
pulled from the boards of Cambridge Improv Club. This form makes it a useful vessel
for exploring these issues – but it’s not without its limitations. Gragnani’s
story is one of despair and struggle told by lovers of London, but with a
probable (I imagine) happy ending of some sort – for countless others, the situation is much more
bitter, and much more angry.
“There’s an army of us” says Gragnani at the piece’s end.
And that is indeed my understanding. The personal circumstances of recent
immigrants to the UK from Europe need to be heard, and their rights need to be
listened to in the process of leaving the EU. The New Europeans I have written about previously – mobile, multi-lingual, and often extremely talented (by, the way, Expat Underground is also performed in Italian) – must be
acknowledged as human beings with rights to share in mutual prosperity, a
direct benefit of the UK’s participation in the EU for over 40 years.
Far from a generalisation suggested by its premise, Expat Underground is a particular show
trying to say a particular thing, to a particular set of people, at a specific
time. Sure, part of me wishes it had come before the EU referendum. Nevertheless,
there are still stakes here, notably livelihoods, as Gragnani points out, and her
chief complaint – which I think could be usefully summarised as “I came here
with an understanding, and you have changed the agreement”, holds true under any interpretation
of fairness that is not outright xenophobic.
It’s a show that puts a human face on the consequences of Brexit, and needs to tour beyond its upcoming appointment
at London’s Tristan Bates theatre, and into Sunderland, Birmingham, the West
Midlands, Yorkshire, Wales, and others. It’s a charming appeal to basic human
decency that needs to be heard at this time, and a resounding acknowledgement
of Voila Festival’s decision to expand beyond French language.
And within this giant, dominant superstructure of social
relations, politics and economics, what will become of piccola Cecilia?
UK, lovers of reality TV: it’s for you to decide, and decide
well. We are in the real world now. We want our lives back.
Expat Underground
Applecart Arts
With Cecilia Gragnani,
Steve Wickenden
Writers Cecilia Gragnani & Jvan Sica
Director & Dramaturg Katharina Reinthaller
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