female playwrights had been approached for their expertise on themes such as the Windrush, identity and
migration.
Not only is the idea that “anyone can write anything” false in an industry that only trusts white people as
authoritative storytellers, it’s a flawed idea because of the specificity of lived experience, and the unique
knowledge that specific perspectives provide. American playwright Lynn Nottage explained that the default
white male perspective in theatre lacks the impact of historical knowledge of what it means to be black: “It’s
like trying to recount to someone what it’s like to go through war, and you’ve never been in a war.”
Even if white writers somehow know everything they need to in order to write black stories authentically,
the fact remains that they are more likely to have the opportunity and privilege to tell those stories while
black writers are still fighting to get in the door.
The four plays that I’ve brought together for This is Black challenge those restrictions. All debut works,
writers and participating collectives will see their fully realised stories on stage for the first time. They are
varied, unexpected, complex and unapologetic. I also wanted to be able to offer black artists time, space and
resources in an industry where it often feels as though they’re only available to a particular kind of person in
theatre, those who are always given the license to make “edgy”, “radical”, “experimental” work and expand
the canon in whichever way they want.
The rest of us (who are “different”) are shut out of participating. And when we do make work and take
ownership of spaces, it is often branded by some critics as “not challenging enough”. But blackness is not
one-dimensional; it is layered, complex, beautiful, ugly, angry, loud and more. But most importantly,
through festivals like these, it means telling our own stories without restrictions.
This is Black is taking place at the Bunker Theatre from today until 25 August