African-American actor Ira Aldridge (1807-1867) left segregated New York in the mid-1820s to perform Shakespearean roles in England. His long-forgotten story is memorialised by British-born actor Lolita Chakrabarti in her first play, Red Velvet , which saw her hailed Britain’s “Most Promising Playwright”. Adrian Lester, her Black actor-husband, plays Aldridge. Directed by iconic Sri Lankan-British director Indhu Rubasingham, Red Velvet won plaudits galore in London and Brooklyn. Excerpts from an interview with Chakrabarti…
Talk about your play.
As a playwright I was an unknown quantity. I never assumed Adrian would act in Red Velvet because, if it’s not brilliant, being in your wife’s play could end your career. Adrian has a great reputation and Indhu’s a famous director but, in the theatre, you’re only as good as your last job. They’ve shared my journey but no theatre wanted Red Velvet . It was a big risk for us to do it at the Tricycle, a small off-West End theatre, because nobody knew what to expect. Fortunately, it sold out, won prizes, got fantastic reviews. Amazing articles about Aldridge discussed why he’s forgotten, talked about race, theatre and how far we’ve come. From my dentist to my accountant, everyone went to see it.
How did you come to act?
Acting found me at six when I told an improvised story at a school assembly. I walked like a bent-over old lady laden with plastic bags filled with empty boxes and tins and talked about “my old bones”. I didn’t know then that was drama. Later, I had a fabulous drama teacher. She encouraged public speaking, took us to [local] plays in Birmingham, even to London. I was in the National Youth theatre, ran drama clubs, did mime and elocution. I was immersed in theatre.
You studied at London’s Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, didn't you?
My teacher recommended Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) as a top drama school. I fell in love with it at my first audition; we had to do one classical piece, one modern. My dad, who wanted me to be a doctor like him, said, “What’s drama school?” (My sister had gone to Oxford.) When his nurses were impressed that I’d got into RADA, he let me go!
And then?
I moved to London and had the best time at RADA. I had no idea how theatre worked. I’d done it instinctively without knowing the technique. I learned so much in three years — improvisation, voice work, movement. It’s classical training: Shakespeare, Chekhov, Shaw, weighty serious theatre, not musicals. RADA has three theatres in London where students get to act. Professionals pick stars of tomorrow from those shows. Adrian, whom I knew from Birmingham’s drama circuit, was a year ahead. We worked together on speeches, fencing, movement; ours was a college romance. My parents knew him as my Jamaican friend; 10 years later, when we decided to marry, they were delighted. Adrian’s so knowledgeable about Shakespeare, he’s got honorary doctorates!
Coming out of RADA, did you have instant success?
I did lots of theatre and TV — nice parts in good plays — but it’s never easy. Indhu says, “You were the new person to watch,” but I went from job to job with months in between. It was never enough. To keep busy, I studied pottery, literature, and playwriting. I’ve worked consistently. Now, because of age (44), gender and race, it’s harder to get roles.
How did you transition to writing?
I’d been writing short stories between jobs. A company that gets actors to read to hospitalised stroke patients bought 40 of my stories, dealing with Indians, Blacks, and Whites. My five-part adaptation of Satyajit Ray’s Devi ran on BBC Radio 4. I wrote and acted in a story for the Almeida theatre’s “promenade performance”: starting in the theatre, you take the audience out, around streets where other actors are planted to jump out. The actors were miked; the audience wore headphones through which the story unfolded in a magical performance. I danced in the park with an actor who leapt out of the bushes to tango with me! The public saw it all but had no idea what was going on. Along the route, ushers ensured everything went smoothly. It was storytelling on the street.
You’re juggling theatre, TV, films, writing...
Even though my writing’s taken off, I love acting. Unfortunately, the opportunities don’t come often enough. In film, I play doctors, lawyers, detectives — Indian authority figures. I love both TV and stage though they’re such different disciplines. Telly is collaborative work, exciting when everyone’s pulling together. Now, it is TV’s golden age, cable series are replacing theatre. Going to the theatre, you’re never sure it’ll work; with a boxed set, you’re guaranteed great TV, the hit stories sustained over 20 hours. Television offers me a welcome change of pace — I went from doing four months of serious acting in The Great Game: Afghanistan to TV.
Was it hard to move from short stories to playwriting?
No, I deal constantly with scripts as an actress, analysing how one line leads to the next, or, why it does not work. I throw myself in and think I can do anything.
What’s next?
My dad told me a fabulous story that he was involved in, as a doctor in the 1960s. It became a murder case that went to the Old Bailey. I wrote it and did the rounds but nobody picked it up. Like Red Velvet , it sat in my drawer for 10 years. Now, I’m turning that into a three-part TV serial. As a producer, I’ve started a fledgling film company. I produced a 20-minute film that Adrian directed. It won prizes on the international circuit. I’m writing a feature film that I’ll produce, Adrian will direct, we’ll both act in it. I’m starting a play about three generations of women for Indhu who’s now Tricycle’s artistic director.
