In the Red and Brown Water


The Sunday Times: Tarell Alvin McCraney: Out of the hoods



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The Sunday Times: Tarell Alvin McCraney: Out of the hoods

Hip writer Tarrell Alvin McCraney has left Miami vices behind

October 5, 2008
Tarell Alvin McCraney might be a playwright, but he should really write a manual: How to Succeed, the Faux-Naïf Way. He’s explaining how he put acting aside to write The Brothers Size, one of last year’s critical hits in both London and New York. “I just thought, ‘I wish I had a part where I could bring all of myself to it - not just the proper English-speaking self, but the weird, loony, mercurial stuff.’ I thought, ‘Somebody should be doing this.’ And then I thought, ‘Oh! I should do it!’”
It is a rather simplified take on the route that led Miami-born McCraney to have two more works debut here this autumn: In the Red and Brown Water at the Young Vic, then Wig/Out at the Royal Court, while The Brothers Size returns to the Young Vic, then tours. It also cuts out the award-winning spell at Yale, and mentoring from Peter Brook. Still, in one sense, the speed-up is justified: he turns 28 this month.

In the Red and Brown Water succeeds The Brothers Size in McCraney’s Brother/Sister trilogy - relocating Nigerian myth to the heat of contemporary Louisiana. Spirits and gods become African-Americans at the bottom of the social heap, in the projects. The writing is a verse-like take on modern slang and patois - and the result is poetic, potent and funny, punctuated with music and dance. (Wig/Out, which has just opened to rave reviews in New York, is set in the transvestite ball scene.)


Despite the pressure around him, McCraney is almost unnervingly calm and polite. He answers questions at length and rarely loses eye contact. The only thing that sets him off course is an unfortunate pain au raisin, which has each of its raisins plucked out, one by one. Intense, perhaps, but intensity is sometimes necessary. While, for some, the stage has become a means of supporting a cause, for McCraney theatre itself is the thing to fight for.
When asked who his audience is, he says he writes for everyone - but for him, who grew up in one of Miami’s toughest neighbourhoods, there is a vital elaboration. “It’s important to engage people who feel they don’t have a voice in the theatre - because someone had the wherewithal to do that for me. Someone did something one day on a street corner, and that’s how I got into theatre - I got into a programme for the children of drug addicts. It changed my life, and without that I don’t think I would be here - well, especially not here [we’re in an arts centre off a leafy London street]. To be honest, I might not be alive.” He draws on experience. His mother died a few years ago after battling a serious drug addiction; a younger brother has just got out of jail.
So he moved into doing guerrilla theatre, performing on local streets, before winning a scholarship to study acting at university. Yet, acting isn’t even his real passion: dance is. But his father, with whom he lived after his mother became ill, only allowed acting. How come? “Well, Wesley Snipes was an actor, so that was okay. . . But I didn’t see Wesley Snipes in no pointe shoes!”
Suffice to say, McCraney’s and Snipes’s paths have since diverged. For one thing, Snipes doesn’t claim much influence from Lorca, Brecht or Peter Brook, for whom McCraney auditioned - before sending him his written work, and receiving encouragement. By the time he reached Yale School of Drama, acting had receded, though he’d got plenty of work in the meantime. But as he talks, with the same eloquence and gestures as his characters, it seems logical to ask if he acts in his plays. “I try not to. Sometimes directors woo me, and I’m always on the precipice. But. . . acting is really hard!” And writing is easy? “Not easy, but I have a way of working into it that doesn’t hurt me so much. With acting, you have to bring so much of yourself into the now. That’s hard for me sometimes.”
Yet it’s not as if his writing holds back. It may be stylised, but it relates to something gritty and relevant today: those marginalised by society, and by the theatre, too. Writing plays, it transpires, isn’t merely to exhibit that “weird, loony, mercurial” side of his. Concerning Oya, the heroine of In the Red and Brown Water, he points out the painful truth. “There are tons of plays about kings and queens and people in Russia, but there are not that many about black women - especially dark-skinned black women - especially poor, dark-skinned black women.” It would be great to say he was wrong. Of course he’s not.

He claims, however, that any political dimension is incidental. You can well believe him: he is mainly preoccupied with his craft, “obsessed” with Shakespeare, reading “tons” of Chekhov, making all those kings and queens and Russians inform his own characters. The problem is, this doesn’t bode well for his personal ambitions - he would, he says, put it all aside to have “like, 90” children. True, perhaps, but it’s so patently at odds with all he’s set to do. “The theatre I write has to have a necessity,” he insists a little earlier. It’s a necessity, it seems, that has entrapped him - until the next happy career change, that is.



Time Out: Tarell Alvin McCraney: interview

By Tamara Gausi

Monday 29th September 2008
Time Out looks ahead to Tarell Alvin McCraney’s unofficial London takeover as the Miami-born star reveals his hopes to get more black punters into theatres.
If necessity is the mother of invention, then exasperation is clearly the stepfather of Tarell Alvin McCraney’s artistic endeavours. The American playwright, who turns 28 this month, spent several years as an actor before the artistic glass ceiling had him lunging for his keyboard. ‘I was doing fine, but every year there were more and more black actors being trained, and less and less plays being produced for us,’ he says. ‘I mean how many times can we do “A Raisin in the Sun”? It’s a great play, but Jesus Christ…’

McCraney was studying at the Yale School of Drama when New York’s Public Theater put on ‘The Brothers Size’, a glorious exploration of brotherhood set in modern-day Louisiana and steeped in Yoruba mythology. Evangelical praise and worship followed: the New York Times welcomed the ‘thrilling sound… of a new voice’; its UK premiere at the Young Vic last October won an Olivier nomination. This week it returns with a new cast to the Maria at the Young Vic, while ‘In the Red and Brown Water’ makes its European premiere on the main stage, starring former So Solid rapper Ashley Walters, Ony Uhiara and American jazz trumpeter Abram Wilson.

The unofficial McCraney takeover continues at the Royal Court in November with ‘Wig Out!’ a riotous drag-queen drama with Danny Sapani. ‘I’m really excited,’ says McCraney who’s also just been named as the RSC’s new International Playwright in Residence. ‘The Young Vic has shown so much faith in my work, and the Royal Court seems to be ready to go all out, so it should be a lot of fun.’ Just what ‘all out’ means in a theatrical exploration of the African-American ‘ball culture’ (think cult documentary ‘Paris is Burning’), resplendent with candy-coated sexual euphemisms and a neck-snapping Greek-style chorus cross-pollinated by Destiny’s Child, only God knows, but if McCraney says it’s going to be ‘fierce’ then you better believe it.
While ‘In the Red and Brown Water’ retreads the same rich, lyrical waters as ‘The Brothers Size’ (both plays are part of 'The Brother/Sister Trilogy' which ends with ‘Marcus; or the Secret of the Sweet’, also optioned by the Young Vic), the focus shifts from an all-male trinity to the story of Oya (loosely based on a Yoruba deity of the same name), a young woman who faces insurmountable obstacles in her quest to become an athlete. ‘Wig Out!’, however, is a complete change of pace, indicative of McCraney’s free and dexterous hand which paints age-old vistas of love, longing and belonging on fractured, urban tapestries. Even if the stories aren’t new, the means is. Where else in theatre would you find Jay-Z lyrics alongside Viking mythology and Essex Hemphill-inspired explorations of same-sex love carved with the tools of poor theatre, African rituals and spoken word?

McCraney’s unshakeable sense of purpose probably owes to his tough upbringing in the Miami projects. His mother, a drug addict, died some years ago of an Aids-related illness and, as a teenager, McCraney joined a community theatre project led by Teo Castellanos, which introduced him to the works of Augusto Boal, Jerzy Grotowski and Peter Brook (who later became his mentor following a workshop of ‘Le Costume’ in Chicago). This period left him acutely aware of the political potential of theatre: ‘I remember one time we performed a piece about a crackhouse in a women’s rehabilitation clinic and these women just burst into tears. They had never experienced anything in art that showed them what their children were going through while they were strung out on drugs. I remember thinking to myself: This is what theatre’s about. It’s good to be entertained, but it’s also important to recognise self.’

He’s also deeply passionate that theatre tells all kinds of stories to all kinds of people: ‘Look, it’s never my happiness that the homogeny of American theatre is old, white people. Not that I want them to go away, but if I could also get a few more black butts in those seats, a few more Latino people and a few more young people, that would be nice. Because of working with people like Peter Brook, and because I’ve spent all my life in the arts, I know theatre is a community event. There must be a dialogue between the audience and stage otherwise we might as well watch television.’


17. NEWSPAPER INTERVIEWS WITH ASHLEY WALTERS, ACTOR PLAYING SHANGO



The Independent: Ashley Walters - The Road to redemption

He's shaken off his wild past in So Solid Crew to reinvent himself as a serious actor. Charlotte Cripps joins Ashley Walters at the Young Vic.



Tuesday, 7 October 2008
The actor and rapper Ashley Walters, 26, has been rehearsing for his new role at the Young Vic theatre in London in a tank of water. The former So Solid Crew member, who spent seven months in jail for carrying a gun in 2001, has, along with the rest of the cast, taken to wearing Wellington boots to fend off colds and flu while wading in the wet. Now they are moving to the stage of the main auditorium, which has been flooded with water from a shower in a dressing room to give the sweltering ambience of the Louisiana bayou – a mission that took six hours. "It slows down your movement as you don't want to splash too loud over someone's lines," says Walters.
In the Red and Brown Water is the new play by the 27-year-old American playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney, whose debut, the Olivier-nominated The Brothers Size, opened at the Young Vic last year only months after he graduated from Yale School of Drama. McCraney is also the international playwright in residence for the Royal Shakespeare Company, and another of his plays, Wig Out!, is to open in November at the Royal Court.
Walters – who is best known for playing Ricky in Saul Dibb's film Bullet Boy in 2004 – could not have landed this lead role at a better time. He wants to prove himself as a serious stage actor, and to shed the whole Asher D alter ego of his So Solid Crew period. Next spring he is releasing a new album, Ashley Walters, and distancing himself from other grime artists such as Chipmunk and Wiley. "The hoodies and the tracksuits... I'm wearing suits now. The lyrics represent me and who I am now as a person," he says. "I do a lot to help against gun and knife crime."
These days Walters is a family man who is more likely to be found doing the school run with his three kids in Catford than he is playing with fire – he's an hour late for this interview not because he's playing the star, but because he's been taking his five-year-old son Paniro to the dentist. Since his sojourn in jail he has transformed himself from bad boy to golden boy. "I realised what was important. I was there as a father but not there in spirit. I wasn't taking my responsibilities too seriously. When I went to jail I lost my house, my cars, my record deal. Hardly anybody wanted to work with me. I'd gone from the top to rock bottom. In jail you realise who your real friends are. My girlfriend, my kids and my family were still there for me. I realised I'd neglected them all. To be a role model and an inspiration to others is now more important to me than being famous," Walters says.
As he sits in the Young Vic café he radiates the kind of dynamic energy that makes it seem feasible for him to hold down three jobs and a family. Not only is Walters an actor and a musician, but he also runs his own independent music label and production company, AD82 Productions, and he is now itching to direct films: "There are plans for me to direct a new film, Full English Breakfast, a spin-off of The Breakfast Club."
In the meantime, in In the Red and Brown Water Walters plays fiery ladies' man Shango, with music performed live by New Orleans jazz trumpeter Abram Wilson. The play follows a star athlete, played by rising star Ony Uhiara, who has put her dreams on the back burner to care for her sick mother. She is in love with Shango and wants his baby, but he won't commit. Walters says: "I'm playing him very charming. He is going up the ranks of the army but when it comes to women he has a weak spot. He is very direct and abrupt at times. I have the most candid lines and the most swear words throughout the play."
Walters' first big stage role was in the National's Sing Yer Heart Out for the Lads in 2004, a play about football and racial tension, followed earlier this year by Oxford Street, a Royal Court production of a drama about underpaid workers in London's shopping district. "Not to say the other parts were a walk in the park," he says, "but playing Shango is a lot harder to relate to as he is from a fictional place in Louisiana and the Southern accent is very Forrest Gump. We have to get the tone rounded so we all sound the same. And the stage directions in the characters' speech are meant to be said as well as played, which I'm not used to either."
Born in Peckham, south London, in 1982, Walters attended the Sylvia Young Theatre School at the age of six and then landed parts in Grange Hill and the BBC film Storm Damage. After Bullet Boy, for which he won a British Independent Film Award for best newcomer, he got roles in the Hollywood blockbuster Get Rich Or Die Tryin', the story of US rapper 50 Cent's life, and Sugarhouse, in which he played a crack addict. He also starred in the BBC hit series Hustle as Billy Bond the pickpocket, and plays a bank robber in Sacha Bennett's low-budget heist movie Tuesday, released this Friday. Moreover, Walters is also about to be turned into an action star, in what could be a seven-part movie deal, starting early next year with Fight Back. "I've got three months' training with an ex-marine until the film starts as they really want to bulk me up. Basically, it's about a guy who goes to prison and has come out and becomes a vigilante and rids his community of bad elements. It's not that deep but it's a very popular genre. I think I will take it in my stride."
Walters, who joined the garage band So Solid Crew when he was 17, has since turned his life around. "There was a lot of fast living and I was doing things to be accepted by my peers rather than doing what I really wanted to. This resulted in me going to prison," says Walters. "Behind bars I was so depressed because I thought everything was over. I think in some ways it was meant to happen. It was a positive experience because I learnt from it."
Whatsonstage: Brief Encounter With … Ashley Walters
Roger Foss

6th October 2008


Ashley Walters achieved fame as Asher D of So Solid Crew (and notoriety in 2002, when he spent nine months in a young offenders’ institute after being convicted of carrying a loaded hand gun) and has subsequently won acclaim for his work as an actor in films and theatre, appearing in the National Theatre’s 2004 production of Roy Williams’ Sing Yer Heart Out for the Lads and more recently in Levi David Addai’s Oxford Street at the Royal Court. His films include Stormbreaker, Life and Lyrics, the BBC drama Hustle, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (alongside rapper 50 Cent) and Bullet Boy, for which he received the Best Newcomer award at the British Independent Film Awards. Walters opens this week at the Young Vic in the UK premiere of In the Red and Brown Water by American Tarell Alvin McCraney, whose debut play The Brothers Size simultaneously returns to the theatre’s Maria Studio.
Why were you drawn to In the Red and Brown Water?

It’s just an amazing piece of storytelling. You’re pulled into the life of a young girl, Oya, who dreams of becoming an athlete but gets torn between her aspirations, her sick mum and her feelings towards this guy called Shengo, who is a negative influence – that’s my part. You follow her rites of passage, but there’s also this community in Louisiana after hurricane Katrina struck which could also be a sort of mysterious place anywhere in the world. I love it as well because music is important to the storytelling and there’s a lot of live jazz involved which is very specific to the area.


What’s unique about Tarell Alvin McCraney’s work?
When you first read the script it’s really challenging. He’s got this spiritual connection with West African mythology which is strange I suppose and mysterious, but you can relate to it because in the end it’s about what ties us all together whatever culture we belong to. Each one of his plays is different but they sort of interconnect. For example, there are characters who also appear in The Brothers Size. He has this strange way of making the actors speak the stage directions as part of the storytelling, a bit like playing two people. It’s been quite something to work out where I am and who I am!
How’s your Southern accent?
I’m okay now but I had to learn how to sustain it throughout the evening every night of the run - so different from filming where you can retake scenes or dub mistakes afterwards. The biggest challenge is the water. We wade around in water during the play so we had to rehearse in a specially made tank in order to find a balance between splashing about and making our voices heard in the theatre.
What’s your character like?
He’s a womanising guy who loves sex, but charming with it. He’s slick, with a silver tongue and his scenes are all about sexual tension, which means I have to create that vibe on stage.
You must be used to that from your So Solid Crew days.
I suppose being easy on the eye was a part of the music scene and, yes, you got a lot of attention from female fans. You just had to tread a fine line and not abuse that position.
What’s it been like making the crossover between music and acting?
I quickly learned they are different worlds, so it’s rare to have the opportunity to do both. I take my acting very seriously. I’ve found that there’s a lot more of Ashley in my acting whereas Asher D has become a kind of music business alter ego. They are both very different people.
Which one takes priority now? Ashley or Asher D?
Ashley most definitely. But when it comes to music, I started an independent label and production company a couple of years back so I’ve been more interested in developing the music talents of other artists rather than pushing myself. I’ve had my fun as a music performer but I’m releasing an album next spring and that will be my last. After that I’m going to concentrate on my acting career.
Was the acting part of reinventing yourself after your term in prison for carrying a gun?
In a way it was. I knew I had to start from scratch. I’d done a lot of acting as a kid, but working at the National Theatre in Sing Yer Heart Out for the Lads was my first stage job after all of that negativity in my life and it made so much difference to me. I’d done films as well, but after Bullet Boy I got the impression that people thought it’s just me telling my own story – black kid out of a young offenders’ institute, and heading home to more trouble. I couldn’t keep sticking to roles that are easy for me to play. People weren’t convinced about my range as an actor. Theatre pushes you and people look at you differently.
Why is working at the Young Vic so special to you?
I live in Peckham so it’s my local theatre. Whenever I go past, I think back to when I was a kid on stage down the road at the Old Vic in Carmen Jones with Gary Wilmot. I had no idea how cool the theatre scene was until I went to the National and Royal Court. It’s the same here where young kids are getting off their bums and coming to see plays rather than staying at home watching films or just hanging around.
How do you look back on your So Solid days?
We got a lot of negativity, but we were raising awareness about what we as black kids were going through at the time. Looking back, we were reflecting the reality on the streets, even if we may not have done it in the best way and my role models then were drug dealers – I wanted to be just as flash. For me now it’s about going back on that negativity and correcting the mistakes and showing kids that you can change your life around. I owe that to a lot of people who grew up with my music and my scene. More than anything that is what my job is now. Making music and all that glamour that went with it in the past is fine, but my task is basically being a role model and trying to inspire kids and making them realise.

I know it’s really bad out there from living in Peckham. I have three kids and one of them is a nine-year-old who will be going to secondary school in a couple of years and I really worry for him and about the current climate of knives and violence and gangs. It’s something we can change, but it’s going to take more than jail sentences and money. We need to get into dialogue with these kids and show them certain things about life that they don’t understand. When you’ve got the internet and your Sky Plus and computer games and so on, hardly anyone communicates or has dialogue in the right way. We just need to go back to talking.


Do you have an acting role model?
Adrian Lester. Another big inspiration is Will Smith, who also had a music career as a rapper and went into acting.
You started acting when you were very young. Would you encourage your own kids to take it up?
Yes, if that what they want to do. Because my mum encouraged me, I started at the Sylvia Young stage school when I was seven. I’ve had a good time so far but it’s been hard work. You get lots of highs, but there are no guarantees in this game so maybe they’ll be best to get stable nine-to-five jobs. The fact is that I’m doing interesting things now, but I’m always aware that it could all dry up five years down the line.
Any stage roles you dream of playing?
I’m adamant about doing Shakespeare. I’ve been trying desperately to get into the Shakespeare’s Globe. I’ll just have to keep on at them until they’ll have me.

18. ASSISTANT DIRECTOR’S REHEARSAL DIARY
Week One:
Tuesday 26th August

Rehearsals for the show are being held at the Toynbee Studios in Aldgate East. On the first morning we had a meet and greet where the Artistic Director of the Young Vic, David Lan, spoke briefly about his excitement for the production. The director, Walter Meierjohann, then welcomed everyone and spoke about the amazing journey the play had had to get to rehearsal stage. He said that he’s from Germany, and Tarell [Alvin McCraney, the playwright] is from America, and the Young Vic is the mid-point between the two countries. It was also great to have Tarell with us for our first week so that we could ask him all the questions we needed to. We then went around the group introducing ourselves, stating our names and roles. We immediately all felt part of the Young Vic because all the heads from each department were there.


Then we viewed the model box of the set. Walter and the set designer, Miriam Buether, explained that their ideas for the set design were ambitious as they involved flooding the stage with water. They showed us two ideas for the set – the first model would have the audience in the middle of the auditorium and in the balcony, with water all around them. The second model had the actors and the set alone in the downstairs of the auditorium and the audience in the balcony.
Tarell then spoke to the cast about each individual character because each has a different and unique voice, and gave them ideas of the massive potential each character has in the play. He then went on to talk about Yoruban religion which most of the character names arise from. For example, in Yoruba Oya and Shango are the warrior gods of earth and fire and are very similar to the characters of the same name in the play. Likewise the characters of Elegba and Elegua reflect the gods of the same name who are the gods of the crossroads – they present people with choices but not with answers. The actors had lots of questions for him about their characters.
We finished the day with movement work with the choreographer, Ben Wright, for the community scenes. Each actor had to walk the space as though they were in the Louisiana heat so that they can start to build the prologue and the fell/ambience of the play.
The first day was tiring, nerve-wracking and overwhelming. Everyone was told to go home and think about any questions on the play and their characters.

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