Solo shows are interesting things, aren’t they? I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the term ‘solo show’ or ‘solo performance’ and the images they conjure up in peoples’ minds.
N*gger is my first solo show. It’s all about language and power, and it’s a show which (hopefully!) challenges us to think about our word choices, whatever they may be, and why we choose to use the language we do. On the surface, the premise was simple. Come up with a concept, find a wonderful director (which I did, in the form of Sammy O’Byrne!) and put it on! And actually, yes it was and is that simple.
But my understanding of what it means to create a ‘solo show’ has grown more complex.
Firstly, the term is totally misleading. Solo performances aren’t always solo, like the definition would have you believe: “A solo performance, sometimes referred to as a one-person show, features a single person telling a story for an audience…[Some solo shows] may utilize directors, writers, designers, and composers to bring the piece to life onstage.”
Okay fine, this definition is from Wikipedia (I can already hear the collective groan of all my past teachers and lecturers…I’m sorry!) but you’d be surprised by how very few people provide a clear definition of what a solo show is. The fairly pedantic World Book Dictionary defines solo as: ‘anything done without a partner, companion, teacher or aid’ and performing as ‘the act of carrying out, doing; performing; execution; accomplishment; the act of giving a play, concert, circus or other show’.
It almost feels disingenuous to call N*gger a ‘solo show’ because Sammy and I have worked collaboratively from the outset – the show itself is devised. And so the piece has evolved through constant duality.
But more interesting is the format of the show itself. N*gger utilises the audience as performers, and so, technically, there is more than one performer onstage. Yet it is still considered a solo show. Why? Is it because I am the one who has put in hours of rehearsal? I am the one who knows the format, the background, the overall plots and twists. Yes, that holds a lot of weight, but when does a solo show cease to be a solo show? If I give my audience a prop to hold, we could probably agree to simply call this a moment of interaction. What if I give my audience a place to stand onstage? What if my audience are assigned a character? Lines? The freedom to improvise and affect the narrative as and when they choose?
It gets a little more complicated…
When do the audience stop being the audience and start becoming contributors? Participants? Fellow actors? Directors, even?
A lot of solo shows use participants, or at least other people present on stage. Let’s take Tim Crouch’s An Oak Tree, for example, which absolutely requires a performer onstage other than Crouch himself. Without this secondary performer, the show wouldn’t function. And yet An Oak Tree is still a solo show. Perhaps this is to do with consistency. The piece doesn’t exist without Crouch and it is Crouch who will tour to several venues. However, the piece can use a different performer each time it is performed.
A slightly different, but still a valid example, I think, is Notes from the Field, performed by solo performer, Anna Deavere Smith. Throughout the performance, Smith is both aided by people who help her with her many costume changes, and accompanied by a live musician. Even if we were to just simply look at the musician’s role…aren’t there now at least two, active, intentional, consistent performers onstage? Are we to define the genre by who conceived the idea? (Smith conceived the entire show). Who has the most lines? Whose presence is felt the most onstage?
I would like to say that a show should be ‘solo’ if simply one person is telling the story. But if that were the case, many spoken word sets I’ve seen function more appropriately as solo performances than solo theatre shows. Yet both are valid!
I guess I just struggle with the term, and I don’t really have a solution (I apologise again; it’s never good to pose a problem without a solution. Gosh, I’m really breaking all the rules today).
I recognise that ‘solo show’ is a catch-all phrase for what, on the surface, appears to be unaccompanied storytelling. I also recognise that a more nuanced definition would have to define each show individually, based on a number of factors, not least of all by clearly defining who is and who is not, a creative contributor to the given piece.
In any case, until we have a better name for it… N*gger is my FIRST EVER solo show, and I’m super happy and excited to perform in it this week!
Catch Nicole Acquah’s first solo show N*gger at Engine Room on 27 Jun.
Engine Room is a platform for dynamic, emerging theatre makers to present brand new works in progress, and they want to hear want you think! Put yourself in the heart of the creative process – grab your tickets HERE
Photo credit: Christina Bulford Photography
