The Sunday Times - UK (2022-04-24)

divergent young artists, the sort of
company that had never been part of
the old NSDF. It was a work of joyous,
life-affirming anarchy that ended with

Acting up Audience participation
was encouraged for Reservation,
by the theatre group DadaFest

| INTERVIEW

First book I loved

The Rachel Papers by Martin Amis.

I devoured it because it was set in

west London where I’m from and it

really captured the nuances of my

area in the 1970s. It’s very funny.

First album I bought

When I was 11 my mum’s boyfriend

bought me a stereo and two CDs, by

Boyz II Men and Kriss Kross. I love

Boyz II Men’s vocals and their

harmonies — they are so romantic.

First play I remember enjoying

In my early twenties Simon Amstell

from Popworld and I used to fancy

actors, so we went to the theatre

constantly to see beautiful boys

perform wonderful work. I remember

seeing Ben Whishaw in Hamlet at the

Old Vic. I don’t love Shakespeare but

it was just so gripping. We sat high

up, and I love watching theatre from

high up. I went to see my friend Lily

Allen in a play, 2:22 A Ghost Story, last

year. She was incredible.

First artist I admired

That would be Nirvana. The summer

before I joined secondary school,

grunge music became my life. I had

purple hair, combat trousers and Dr

Martens, and I was bullied for it. I tried

to give it up for two weeks to fit in but

I cared too much about Nirvana. I was

called a “dirty hippy” for six years.

First concert I went to

The Smashing Pumpkins at

Wembley Arena when I was 12. I had

a small group of friends who liked

grunge and were also bullied for it,

and it was so nice to go to this

concert and think, “Don’t worry, there

are other people like us.”

First reality TV show I loved

My friends and I would watch Big

Brother religiously. It was the most

dramatic, can’t-keep-your-eyes-off-it

television I’d ever seen. I loved the

MY CULTURAL

FIRSTS

MIQUITA OLIVER

The Sunday Times

Culture Show presenter,

37, was gripped by the

drama of Big Brother

and bowled over by Ben

Whishaw as Hamlet.

By Jake Helm

psychology episodes on Sundays

where they would take themes from

the past week and dissect them.

First film I saw at the cinema

Jurassic Park at the Coronet Cinema

in Notting Hill. The most poignant

scene is when Sam Neill’s character

is looking out of the window of a

helicopter at a bird. I remember

saying to my uncle, “Why is he

looking at the bird like that?” and

he replied: “Because they are our

dinosaurs.” I still think that when I

look at birds.

First film that made me cry

It was Dumbo, which is just so

heartbreaking. It was overwhelming.

Every time I watched it when I was

younger I remember always getting

to the middle of the film and knowing

that it was all going to get so dark and

sad. It really stressed me out.

First TV drama I never missed

This Life. My mum, Andi Oliver,

persuaded me to watch it. It’s

brilliantly written and I loved that they

didn’t do too many episodes; so

many shows go too far and get

ruined. I’m proud that with Popworld,

we knew when it was done.

First radio presenters I looked up to

When I was hosting an early breakfast

show on Radio 1 I got really

interested in the way radio worked

and became very studious. I looked

up to my colleagues at the time,

Edith Bowman, Colin Murray and

Jo Whiley. They were all terrific.

First actor I loved

I’ve always really liked Jeremy Irons.

Of course he was Scar in The Lion

King and an icon of Nineties films.

The Sunday Times Culture Show is

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the whole company singing a song

called Piss on Pity and the actors

demanding the audience charge on

stage to dance with them. A few stage

lights got wrecked yet something was

illuminated: this was a space for every-

one to come together.

There were pieces by students from

Cambridge and others who’d never set

foot in a university. There was a stark,

devastating examination of British his-

tory from Take a Breath, a company of

brilliant artists from Newham. Stella

Green’s new play, Dull Thuds of Love,

was searching and poetic. There was

stand-up and spoken word from

Bróccán Tyzack-Carlin, Raina Greifer

and Dian Cathal, and a tender, funny

piece about loneliness from Joe Kent-

Walters and Megan Perks.

This was the year of works in pro-

gress: a necessity because the pandemic

had meant young people had little time

in rehearsal rooms. For the first time

this was a festival where things were

made, not just presented. So it was filled

with people making work and trusting

each other to ask how to improve it. We

became better because of each other,

the essential purpose of community. We

had the NSDF Lab: five groups of young

people who had never met, who created

five new pieces of work. Brett Chapman,

a film-maker and NSDF associate made

a film from scratch in six days with a

group of young people, All the Time We

Have. It was a mix of styles and genres;

at points an elegy and reflection on all

the things we had lost and learnt during

the pandemic. You can watch it free on

NSDF Hub.

When I took over NSDF I wrote a list

of principles so we would know what we

were. The principle I always quote is:

“NSDF is kind.” It sounds trite, but I

wrote it down because we forget that

kindness is active. It is empathy and it

sparks both art and love. It’s the fire that

lit up the stage the night the DadaFest

actors demanded that their audience

dance with them.

When I was asked to lead the

organisation three years ago it was not

in great shape financially and I felt the

work came from predictable and privi-

leged places. But if you can fix the

money then you have got a chance. I

decided that I was going to make

every single part of our work free to

everyone. Cash was never going to be

the reason a young person couldn’t

join our family. It is the most controver-

sial of all the many changes I made

when re-founding the organisation. It is

also the most vital.

Despite the challenges that our

industry and our country face, this is

cause for optimism. These magnificent

kids of NSDF ’22 are brilliant and coura-

geous and came from every part of our

country to create a new community —

the kids are going to be all right. c

James Phillips is a playwright and the

director of NSDF — nsdf.org.uk

8 Hand over your baby
Aspiring writers should embrace
shared authorship, Thorne says. “I
respect people who say handing over
a script is like handing over a baby.
But if that’s how you feel, you should
write a novel instead.”

9 Decide if writing is your lover
or your spouse
Prebble says you don’t need to
commit to writing professionally.
Early in her career, writing was a way
of being emotionally open but it soon
became something she had to
deliver publicly. “That’s what I
wanted, but it might not be for some
people,” she says. “Turning your lover
into your spouse is quite a big deal.
Do you want to get up and do that
every day? It’s OK for it to stay as
something you do for yourself.”

Masterclasses are available at
nsdf.org.uk/nsdf-hub

RICHARD POHLE

BEATRICE DEBNEY

24 April 2022 23