In Search of Goldoni: A Reflection.
Enough time has passed for me to be able to reflect on the recent tour of In Search of Goldoni. Reflection is a key word for the show; from the reflective flooring brilliantly conceived by director Alix Harris and designer Aldo Vazquez which picked up the vibrant lighting and made it dance across the space, to the line in the play about looking in the mirror and seeing my father’s face, to the very nature of autobiographical work.
In Search of Goldoni is my third solo show. In 2012 I wrote and performed The Tiger and The Moustache at the Brewery Theatre, the old Tobacco Factory Theatres studio space. A year later, I toured it around UK theatres. In 2014/15 I toured Strictly Balti for Travelling Light Theatre Company, including playing the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. These shows connect to ‘Goldoni’, they are all autobiographical and, together, they chart a very particular narrative, that of a British Asian story of identity, the challenges of standing out and the pitfalls of perceived assimilation. They tell an overarching story of Saikat wondering about his place in the world. In many ways, they are a distillation of the questions I constantly ask as an actor: Who am I? What do I want?
Whilst I always had sense that there would be three shows I did not know (could not know) that the final show would be concerned with grief. After my father died in 2016, that’s all the final show could ever be. I don’t compare the shows (a theatre maker’s shows are I guess like their children, you love them all and accept that they’re all different), it is useful to look at both how I have changed as an artist during them and also how the experience of making them has been so different.
When I first wrote The Tiger and the Moustache, not only did I not know things, I didn’t know what I didn’t know. My naivety was so all encompassing that when I received my first phone call from a venue asking to take the show and enquiring how much it would cost, I realised I hadn’t given it enough thought. I fumbled the answer, mentioned a figure and they got a very good deal. I eventually secured a decent tour and arriving at the first venue, the Mill Studio at the Yvonne Arnaud Studio the venue technician asked me for the lighting design. As I stared at him blankly and explained I knew what I wanted but it was all in my head, he and I realised it was going to be a long tech session. Actually it ended up being a revelation for me as the technician talked me through how to make a lighting plot, timings, cross fades, snaps, stuff I didn’t know; stuff I didn’t know but needed to learn fast. When I toured my second solo show, Strictly Balti, I had more knowledge but again I mostly toured on my own. I was in charge of everything (working alongside excellent venue technicians). By contrast with Goldoni I toured with a whole team. My only duty as far as the lighting plot in each venue was to stand in the right spot and wait to see if I was visible. Compared to previous solo shows my only consideration by the time we got to performance, was to perform; the freedom to just concentrate on my work as an actor was liberating, especially in a show as taxing as Goldoni was.
There was also a difference in making the work. Beyond Face is a company that specialises in working with global majority artists. From the very first moment of engagement with Alix and the wider company, there was a shared understanding that, honestly, I’ve never felt before. I’ve worked with many directors and companies before that have been great at wanting to understand my perspective as a person of colour living in the UK. They’ve been curious, supportive as I explain the architecture of my mind. My previous solo shows both dealt with my perspective as a British Bangladeshi so such conversations were necessary. However, with Beyond Face, I never needed to explain that particular perspective. From day one, it was understood. It was understood and shared. Having to constantly explain one’s lived experience to people can be exhausting. It’s something many people of colour do willingly but it can come at a cost. Working with Beyond Face meant that such conversations were either not needed or if they were, they were shared together, leaving more energy to work on the play, to work and to have fun.
Considering the subject matter of Goldoni was grief, I have never laughed so much in a rehearsal room. The people were central to that joy, generous spirited who seemed to immediately understand the requirements of the show, the need for joy to radiate throughout the piece, to offset the sadness. In particular, Jihan and Vicki, stage managers, kept the room light, full of jokes (or at least they tolerated my barrage of Dad jokes). Joêl Daniel, movement director, was generous and patient; I always felt supported straying into the unfamiliar territory of full on dance. Aldo Vazquez, the designer, was pure light every time he entered the room, lifting spirits, widening smiles. And Alix. I’m not sure where to begin.
In Search of Goldoni was as much Alix’s show as mine. We shared a common (yet also uniquely individual) experience as we started rehearsing. We both brought ourselves to the process, our own lives, our own losses. We talked about the piece, sure, but we also talked about life more generally and through doing so, I believe, found a connection that elevated the work. Trust was vital and whilst I felt honoured and trusted by Beyond Face in the first instance getting behind the show, hopefully I reciprocated by trusting Alix completely with the material. I knew that she ‘got it’. Granted, some stuff needed clarification during rehearsals but it was never the big stuff. She is also a brilliant director, insightful and sensitive. Alix essentially made me understand what the show was about, the same show I had written and before that lived.
She also tells terrible jokes, something we have in common.
The audience response was also a revelation for me during the tour. One never really knows how an audience will react to a play, especially one so personal and one so eclectic in style. In Search of Goldoni was not only a solo show (not everyone’s cup of tea) but it also used mask, MGM style song and dance, opera, my own version of grammelot (the vocal nonsense of Commedia Dell’Arte) based on Italian phrases yet for all the show’s eccentricities, it seemed to resonate with audiences. There was much laughter and more tears than I expected. I’ve always believed that theatre should help an audience reflect on their own lives, their choices, their losses, their joys. I feel like In Search of Goldoni managed to open that space. I hope it did. It was a privilege to be able to connect with people in a way that felt so meaningful.
There are certainly things about the show I would tweak, lines that after playing them night after night I would change, moments I would speed up, others I would slow down. But for all that, I’m so incredibly proud of the show, of the team and of the whole experience. After over two decades working in theatre, In Search of Goldoni, is the most vulnerable I’ve been on stage. Beyond Face held that vulnerability so sensitively with grace and humour during the making and touring of In Search of Goldoni. I am beyond grateful.
