Playbill from Alleluia Pork Chops. Adapted from the work of Barbadian writers Kamau Brathwaite, Austin Clarke, Timothy Callender, and John Wickham by L. Amanda Cumberbatch, and also directed by her, the play was first performed by The Gap Theatre in 2014. Ayesha Gibson-Gill played Beryl, among several other characters.
WHENEVER I'M ASKED, What is the current climate in Barbados (and beyond) for writing and producing plays? Are you hopeful? my reflex answer is, Don’t ask me, because I am super jaded. Really, can’t you see my cape?
From where I stand, and please don’t take me as typical, the climate for “writing” is fraught. There’s material, people have ideas and thoughts, but will they be realized as scripts for stage plays?
The social media phenomenon and the embarrassment of tools for video editing have had a profound and increasing impact on how and what is written and how it is produced. Stage isn’t going anywhere, but the people watching and writing for it are firmly steeped in the digital media storytelling paradigm.
This is likely not just a Barbadian or Caribbean phenomenon. From my experience and vantage point as a playwright critiquing her own work, and what I’ve seen as an arts administrator for over a decade—and as a writing contest judge, script consultant and actor—so much of what’s written seems made for jump cuts, screen titles, location, and drone shots. A lot of the work we are seeing begs the question: How can this be staged?
This development seems a clear indicator that our talented, eager, would-be playwrights lack exposure to frequent and varied live theatre, at prices they can afford, and are under aware of the realities of staging. Scripts span decades or jump through four nations. (No, not those nations, but big-up Uncle Iroh.) These elements are not impossible to stage, and we quite love the creative challenge, but the financial realities of production in Barbados, for most of us, elevate challenges into existential threats.
Can We Afford to Say It Like That?
Over the years, I’ve observed a tension between the types of stories we tend to want to tell—epic, communal, choral, cast heavy—and what is financially feasible to produce and tour (because remounts and tours are where you’ll make your money IF you make money). Individual dramatic storytelling is expressed in spoken word poetry, or by a single “storyteller,” like a social media comedian. For plays, though we aren’t a “two-hander,” one-wo/man-show culture by nature, by financial nurture we are forced to try to be.
As a result, the play space is reduced to skits, or one-off, sponsored, intensely rehearsed, second- or third-draft productions, with short, hyped-up runs that then disappear off the face of the stage forever. I am referring to original and not licensed work. Play development, multiple rewrites and remounts are so very rare, while being so very crucial to the actual creative and financial development of the theatre community.
Reinventing Wheels
Am I hopeful? I asked some others in the field how they felt, and after they hedged their answers to figure out where I was coming from, we all ended up with the same sentiment. We’re not optimistic, but we’re not pessimistic. Those in the theatre community for over three decades have seen the wheel turn, the surges of production and stage activity, the creation of platforms fuelled by the short-lived availability of funds, and avenues (competitions, incubators, festivals, residencies, foreign folks with literal white-saviour complexes—g’head, ask me how I know) that pop up and then disappear, leaving memories but no sustaining physical infrastructure.
A long-time practitioner I know decided that FILM was “it,” citing better audience access, the portability of the medium as well as love for the format as reasons he chose that storytelling channel over the stage. He’s still a theatre practitioner, though (it must be the cocoa tea), and incorporates digital media into his practice in both design and direction.
I bring this up because many of our could-be playwrights end up in film and digital media for similar reasons. After the initial investment in equipment, there’s a lot of do-it-yourself which saves on the massive outlay of capital a play takes and allows them to make money through commercial media work so, you know, they can eat and pay bills.
Contrary to some popular beliefs, theatre practitioners are not intellectual “also rans.” We know about economies of scale and that we have small populations. We also know that nations with thriving stage cultures invest in long-term developmental programs, infrastructure and varied platforms...but that’s the same rant in a different key. We don’t expect to be full-time stage actors or playwrights on this rock without multiple side hustles, but our producers can’t even afford the venue for more than one weekend, our cast members work shift or are only available on weekends, and some sponsors want to know whether you have to pay the actors. We don’t have a clear path to sustainable income generation or even consistent platforms for the exhibition of our work.
Resisting That Jade Green Cast
Theatre practitioners are not pessimistic, but we’re not optimistic. Because our challenges remain the same and unchanging: short runs, because capital investment is barely enough to pull it off but never enough for all the incidentals of a long run; lack of storage—my queendom for organized, accessible storage! Fewer schools are having dramatic productions. Churches have some of the biggest and most anticipated dramatic productions, and, yes, we have at least two youth-oriented performing arts organizations that, along with Barbados Community College, the University of the West Indies and Laff-It-Off, are nearly guaranteed to have yearly offerings. The truth? The ecosystem fizzles when it comes to any semi-professional layer.
There’s the occasional talk of a National Theatre Company. Meh and stuptch to “talk.” Professional, permanent, national performing arts institutions have been undeniably foundational to the craft and the professional community in other parts of the world. I’m not saying we don’t need one; just remember that if it’s government run, it’s run by government, not some idealized, objective, nonpartisan organization. Such an arrangement could mean decisions flow from political expediency rather than developmental vision.
Another truth is that our community of theatre practitioners continues to exist on the indulgence of patronage, be it private or governmental. What can be done without the large cash investment is and continues to be done. But if the audience platforms that do exist, the festivals and commercial seasons (tourist, Christmas, etc.), invested in the preproduction phases and had accessible, properly equipped venues and clear avenues for production on a consistent basis, work could be mounted far more regularly. There’d be a target to hit, maybe even a contest to win or a development stipend to live on.
In the meantime, the social media comedians will likely be the most visible practitioners of what could be our theatre for a while to come. They get seen, heard, sometimes paid.
Ayesha Gibson-Gill is a Barbadian producer, actor, writer, and director. She cofounded and manages the interactive literature design company Story Shyft, which created the audiobook for the award-winning story collection In Time of Need by Shakirah Bourne. She is co-producer of one son.
Last Modified: April 4, 2024
