★★★★
Opening with projected documentary-style footage of Aretha backstage, speaking candidly about her life and her anxieties, we quickly transition into a burst of excitement, as Aretha Nortey takes the stage. She’s direct and funny with the audience in a way few performers manage authentically, there was an immediate rapport and intimacy that matched the narrative. The staging included Ghanian and British flags which Aretha draped on herself, showing us the intersection of these identities.
Aretha talks about her Erb’s Palsy, with an educational slideshow (a clever reference to way disability is usually talked about in clinical impersonal terms) but Aretha underpins this with a personal ‘high-five’ and ‘try to tickle my arm, there’s no feeling’, this rare element of touch between audience member and performer was revelatory for me.
Victoria Evaristo as producer, writer and director has managed to convey Aretha’s experiences with a clear intention. The direction is vibrant and dynamic, the writing alive with emotion. We see Aretha’s life always on her terms, in her words. She’s funny, she’s real. From going out clubbing, to ‘being healed’ in church; to Ghanian celebrations, Aretha shows her family with excellent characterisations.
The filmed elements return maybe a few too-many times, but they all served a purpose. The scene at the hair salon a particular favourite. As we move into an era where disabled representation isn’t hampered by ‘inspirational’ narratives; we get real narratives, own voice narratives, these are essential.
The whole show has this concertina energy, of each element unfolding perfectly in to the next which showed a British Ghanian perspective and a disabled perspective and how they intersect. This is vital theatre, but also a fun, enlightening experience.
