new writing

Body Talk, VAULT Festival

Body Talk

by Grace Bouchard

CW: eating disorders, body dismorphia

Within the first few lines we are promised “fully clothed catharsis”, and for Cameron, Carl, and Phil, this can’t come soon enough. The topics of masculinity and body image within the gay community are rife with misconception and misunderstanding, not least because for decades no one has talked openly about them. Now, in the age of Grindr and Instagram, where men are bombarded with images of washboard abs and profile bios loudly declaring “no fats, no femmes, no Asians”, it’s understandable that gay men are struggling under the weight of the pressure they put on each other and themselves. Cameron, Carl, and Phil want that to change.

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Push, VAULT Festival

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by Bryony Rae Taylor

In my experience of being a woman in her late 20s, I’ve had a boring revelation that some still feel it’s necessary to question whether I’ll have babies. I was almost late to Push as I had to spend some time un-rolling the eyes from the back of my head, as seconds before I entered the auditorium, I’d seen targeted adverts asking if I wanted to freeze my eggs. One moment you’re watching a cat video, the next you’re wondering if you should put the fruits of your ovaries into a big fridge. Not cool.

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First Time, VAULT Festival

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by Bryony Rae Taylor

In a manic pre-show ‘welcome’, Nathaniel Hall greets the audience with recently sniffed white powder falling down his face, dressing gown on, and in a bedroom strewn with the detritus from a recently concluded party. He’s overslept and he’s addressing his post-party headache with a heck of a lot of cocaine. It’s alarming.

‘We’re not in the Vauxhall Tavern anymore are we, Toto?’

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Over My Dad’s Body, VAULT Festival

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by Isabel Becker

What starts off as a razzle-dazzle cabaret musical, full of mockery of his ever-so-gay charm, darling, and name-in-lights showbiz dreams, Simon David’s play soon becomes a deeply personal meditation on life, death and art, often jutting between extremes before we even know it.

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Tarot, VAULT Festival

 

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By Matthew McGregor-Morales

“We’re going to go with intuition”, Ruby Wednesday tells a lady from Chiswick, as ambience-maestros Yoshi peel out the start of a haunting, rhythmic dive into minor keys and mayhem. Returning to VAULT Festival after a break-out 2019 run, The Feathers of Daedalus have taken Tarot up a notch, blending their signature circus and dance performances with audience readings and a soul funk soundtrack with climaxes a-plenty.

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This Bitch Can Heal, VAULT Festival

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By Evangeline Cullingworth

Jack is hurtling forwards, desperately striving to fix mistakes from their childhood, arguments with their girlfriend, and now climate change. This movement needs them, and they need an excuse to keep moving. We meet Jack in the middle of the London Rebellion, the 10 days of peaceful civil disobedience organised by Extinction Rebellion in April last year. They jump onto their bicycle late at night and begin to hurtle forward, away from the scrutiny they’re under at home.

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Sold, VAULT Festival

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by Laura Kressly

In 1831, Mary Prince’s autobiography was the first book published in the UK about a Black woman. Her straightforward, emotive prose shares her lived experience of being an enslaved woman in the West Indies and England in great detail, including numerous accounts of abuse. This two-woman show embraces it all, packing this story of family separation, numerous masters, and a quest for freedom into an hour. Dance, music and ritual are embedded into the dramaturgy, too – this is a dense show, but one telling an important story that’s exquisitely performed.

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Scenes With Girls, Royal Court

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by Laura Kressly

Lou and Tosh aren’t long out of uni. They’re housemates and best friends who share everything with each other, including their rejection of society’s expectation of young women to want a serious, monogamous relationship with a man. However, their opposing approaches cause some friction between them, people grow and change, and friendships between girls and women are extremely complex, so the feminist utopia they’re trying to create may not be as perfect as they hope.

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Faces in the Crowd, Gate Theatre

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by Laura Kressly

A woman informs us that storytelling needs a sustained breath. She’s then interrupted by a crying baby, a young boy who wants her attention, and a husband who points out both but makes no attempt to help. The unnamed translator, who may or may not have lived in New York, now lives in Mexico City. Her days that – remembered or imagined – were once filled with reading and writing, nights out, casual sex and music, now consist of nappies, playtime and housework.

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