At the Royal
Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow, Lynda Radley is sitting beside
a group of American exchange students who have just spent the morning
taking part in a workshop led by theatre-maker Kieran Hurley. After
lunch they'll be getting on with rehearsing Radley's new play, The
Interference, which was written specifically for them.
As Radley talks, their voices rise and fall behind her. They could be any students from anywhere, with all the excitement and high spirits being abroad brings with it. When these young people from the Malibu-based Pepperdine University step back into rehearsals, however, they will be squaring up to a troublingly prescient issue issue which could conceivably affect every single one of them.
“I was also thinking of what happened at Glasgow University Union,” says Radley, of the institution that only admitted women in 1980 after a long campaign, “where, at the debating society, women debaters were shouted down with sexist comments.”
Radley's story about a woman called Karen who experiences something similar may be fictional, but even though her writing predated the the Brock Turner case, its shadow looms large. The case went viral, not just because of the sentencing, but for the victim's 7,000 word courtroom speech which explained exactly how Turner's actions affected her.
As Radley talks, their voices rise and fall behind her. They could be any students from anywhere, with all the excitement and high spirits being abroad brings with it. When these young people from the Malibu-based Pepperdine University step back into rehearsals, however, they will be squaring up to a troublingly prescient issue issue which could conceivably affect every single one of them.
The Interference
is set on an American university campus, where a female student is
raped by a sports star. While her predator is clearly guilty of the
crime he has been accused of, it is his victim who is treated as
though she is the one on trial in a damning indictment of privilege
and institutional complicity in the demonising of the sports star's
victim.
This sounds
frighteningly familiar to the recent real life case in which
Californian swimming star Brock Turner was found guilty of three
counts of sexual assault on another student, but sentenced to just
six months confinement followed by three years probation. If this is
a frightening coincidence, Radley's initial inspiration for the play
came from much closer to home.
“There was a
video of Stirling University hockey team,” Radley says of a
notorious incident which happened in 2013. “They were filmed on a
bus singing these incredibly misogynist songs, and everyone around
them being incredibly intimidated.”
As can be seen in
the video, when a woman stands up to the hockey team, she is rounded
upon and told to get of the bus. An elected member of Stirling
University's student union stands by. The video is still freely
available online.
“I was also thinking of what happened at Glasgow University Union,” says Radley, of the institution that only admitted women in 1980 after a long campaign, “where, at the debating society, women debaters were shouted down with sexist comments.”
Then there was the
St Andrew's University student who was jailed in 2015 after being
convicted of on-campus sexual assaults, and the thirty-four per cent
of female students who indicated in a newspaper poll last year that
they had experienced sexual assault or abuse.
“At the same
time I was becoming aware of these things,” says Radley, “I also
became aware of incidents in America of women who were raped at
universities more interested in protecting their sports stars.”
Radley's story about a woman called Karen who experiences something similar may be fictional, but even though her writing predated the the Brock Turner case, its shadow looms large. The case went viral, not just because of the sentencing, but for the victim's 7,000 word courtroom speech which explained exactly how Turner's actions affected her.
“When you're
writing something for twelve young performers,” says Radley, “you
want to write something that is relevant to them. Of course, we
couldn't have predicted the publicity that the Brock Turner case was
given, but because of the woman's letter and her extraordinary
courage in the courtroom, it went viral.
“What's tragic
about it is that, although it's unique, there are lots of cases like
that, and the story we're trying to tell echoes that. This is
something that goes back generations in terms of rape and sexual
assault on campus, especially where the attacker has a talent or is a
star, and how that skews justice.
“I think that
sort of thing is ingrained in culture in general, and one of the
things we've been looking at is the risks we all carry round with us,
when people ask what the woman was wearing and if she'd been
drinking, so there's this ingrained form of victim shaming going on.”
The Interference
is the latest fruits of Pepperdine Scotland, an ongoing cultural
exchange between the Malibu-based Pepperdine University's Department
of Theatre and Scotland's theatre community led by Playwrights'
Studio Scotland and the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. While
Pepperdine has been bringing work to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe
since 1985, the exchange began in 2012 with the Peter Arnott scripted
Why Do You Stand There in the Rain?
Like that play,
The Interference is directed by Cathy Thomas-Grant, who has been
working on Pepperdine shows for the last sixteen years. Her
production here features sound and music by composer Michael John
McCarthy, who is also Radley's partner and a creative collaborator
dating back to Radley's solo show, The Art of Swimming, which was
first seen at the Arches in Glasgow a decade ago.
The Interference
grew out of an initial development period with Radley working with
the students in Malibu.
“There are lots
of different voices in the play,” says Radley, “and that makes
for a real cacophony of sound. There are teachers and parents and
lawyers in the story, and there's a whole online section as well.
Some of these are trolls, and some are Karen's friends instant
messaging each other, and you see all the things that might
discourage someone from coming forward and telling their story.
“We're telling
Karen's story, but we're also trying to show that a rapist isn't
necessarily who you think it is. It's not the guy in the ski mask,
and when it's someone who's held in high esteem, and is someone who
we might like, it becomes difficult, and that's reflected back on the
victim. It goes back to when you're kids, and when people say, oh, he
was only pulling your hair because he likes you. In the American
situation, there's an economic imperative as well, and it's slowly
coming to light that these things have been kept quiet to support
campuses.”
Highlighting such
institutional complicity in warping justice in this way is
educational on every level.
“One of the
things I feel strongly about,” says Radley, “is the need to teach
consent to young people from an early age. It doesn't have to be
heavy, but I think we need to do that, not just because we want young
people to understand the law, but so we have responsible juries, and
parents and teachers who are going to deal with incidents of rape
compassionately instead of victim blaming.”
At the play's
heart, however, is a painfully recognisable
human tragedy.
“The most
important thing for me is to tell Karen's story,” says Radley. “And
for the audience, instead of having that thing that it's nothing to
do with me,to sit back and think about this. Because victims of rape
are anonymous, it's important that they're given a voice. It's
extraordinary when you read the young woman's letter in the Brock
Turner case. The power of having a voice really matters.”
The Interference, C Chambers St,
August 3-16, 3.45-5pm.
www.ctheFestival.com
The Herald, July 12th 2016
ends
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