ANDY HEDGECOCK is entertained by a playful novel that embeds a fictional game at its heart
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Dragged into the limelight
MARY CONWAY contemplates a landmark show that raises questions of identity, not class
Cast in-rehearsal
[Helen Murray]
Death comes for Liberals, entitled murder, Vatican hit squads, and fraternising with the Blitz killer
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GABRIELE NEHER draws attention to an astoundingly skilled Flemish painter who defied the notion that women cannot paint like men
The Bard pays homage to Hull’s finest promoter and venue, and awards Douze Points to Laibach
KEVIN DONNELLY outlines how the bourgeois institutions inhibit our ability to to view art in revolutionary ways, and suggests some tactics to overturn it
Sound of the Underground
Royal Court Theatre, London
THE Royal Court still maintains its special, innovative role in the theatre world, though its best new voices now find inspiration from questions of identity, not class.
Sound of the Underground, written by Travis Alabanza, is a theatrical extravaganza fit to blast you into space. Alabanza, who themself identifies as black, transfeminine and gender non-conforming, wrenches this performance art from its more habitual environment of queer clubs, gay bars and lowlife cabaret and parades it with consummate daring on the main stage of the Royal Court. And what an epiphany it is.
At first impression, the audience seem planted, so ready are they to cheer, pantomime-style, at the cast, laugh at the jokes and generally whoop and heckle. Only when the cast thread through the audience with QR cards, and people jump out of their seats with phones to bestow a gratuity, do we see that the auditorium is awash with genuine drag aficionados who’ve come to see their heroes.
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