Saturday 3 November 2018

Across the great divide

Cross Golden Lane from one side to the other and you step over the line. The west side, the estate side, is in the City of London, less a London borough than a super-rich enclave of business and finance within the capital, a sort of mini-state, like the Vatican is to Rome, but without the Pope. The east side of Golden Lane  is in Islington, a proper London borough that shares many inner-city characteristics with its neighbours Hackney and Camden.

So there is a physical and a political split down the middle of Golden Lane. Not that anybody pays much attention, apart from the road cleaners (they wash the City side). City of London and Islington residents around here have lived in each other’s pockets for years. Golden Laners use Fortune Street Park (Islington) and Islington children use the Golden Lane Estate (City) as a cycle park. I sometimes think Golden Lane gets the best of the shared deal, but it hasn't always been the case.

Recently I was loaned a copy of an unpublished memoir by Pat Moriarty, a former resident of the nearby Peabody estate off Whitecross Street (Islington). In it she describes life in our neighbourhood in the 1950s and 1960s. The area was razed beyond recognition by German bombing during the second world war, but what Pat describes is an area pulling itself together again. The picture she paints is best described as grim with a grin, a proper black-and-white story of enduring hardship, where the Peabody's women took turns daily to boil up a copper cauldron in which they did the family laundry, while the men scratched around for a bit of portering work and hard drinking at the local Whitbread brewery. But at the heart of these memories is a warm smile and a gentle hello from a rich cast of local characters. This is post-war Britain at its best.

One of the great moments of relief for young mothers from the Peabody back in the 1950s and early 1960s was to wheel their young children over to the newly constructed Golden Lane Estate, where a sunken lawn provided a ready-made open-air playpen. While the children ran free, the women bonded to form what might be described as an early feminist club, a kind local social sisterhood born from the rubble of international conflict.

Sometimes it looks like history is repeating itself. Nearly all of the activities and events that take place today on the Golden Lane Estate are the work of women. Our estate manager is a woman, our community centre manager is a woman, our community engagement officer is a woman. The only councillor who lives on the estate is a woman. I cite these examples only because nobody ever does.

Two women I was pleased to introduce to our newly redesigned Golden Lane Estate community centre not long ago were the actors Rachael Spence and Lisa Hammond. Both are accomplished board-treaders and regulars on film and TV. Lisa is probably best know for her work as a cunningly perceptive detective in TV’s 'Vera' (starring Brenda Blethyn) and as Donna Yates, a market stallholder in 'EastEnders'.

But Rachael and Lisa have together been carving out their own theatrical niche for more than 10 years. It started, so the story goes, one day while they were trying to write parts for themselves (as young actors inevitably do). They were lost for words, didn't know what to say or how to say it. So they took to the streets they knew best, their own neighbourhood, and asked people what to write about and in what words.

Out of this gonzo exercise came ‘No Idea’, a stage show that defined their cluelessness. They found a spiritual home in this method of “verbatim theatre” and, between regular acting jobs, kept the idea of going. Sometime last year I reported on ‘Old Street New Street’, a show they put on at Shoreditch Town Hall, in which a group of local teenagers performed words lifted from interviews Rachael and Lisa had done with old people from the area. In the process of mouthing the words, the young actors became so absorbed in the voices of their surrogate oldies that they slipped into character and began to mimic them, often in hilarious caricature.

Now Rachael and Lisa are at it again, in a 10th Anniversary reworking of the 'No Idea’ idea, in a show imaginatively titled 'Still No Idea’ at the Royal Court theatre in Chelsea. They cut a curious comedy double act. Rachael is tall and leggy, Lisa is short and compact, whizzing around in her wheelchair with characteristic abandon. But they make the most of the contrast and play it off against one another. This softens the edges of what can sometimes be squirmingly hard material that skates the thin ice of bad taste and taboo.


still-no-idea-hammond-spence-royal-court
Lisa Hammond and Rachael Spence in 'Still No Idea'
They were visiting our community centre because next year they fancy reworking the 'Old Street New Street’ idea by putting the words of teenagers into the mouths of old people. That’s where I came in. They were trying to use me to entice unsuspecting old folk into talking like da kids. I think they probably overestimate my pulling power with the pensioners, but they also wanted to have a look at the community centre's refurbishment as a potential space for rehearsals or workshops.

It didn't take long for reminiscence to kick in. Rachael currently lives off Whitecross Street and Lisa grew up in the neighbourhood. Both recall the old Golden Lane community centre and the pleasures of performing on its stage. The newly remodelled community centre offers fabulous views of the estate's fish pond, where Lisa would play as a child, and inevitably fall in.

Their attachment to the area seems genuine, and in their self-styled theatre work they are looking to explore the changes wrought on this part of London and its residents from its earlier identity as part of working-class Finsbury to the aspirational, gentrified habitat of middle-class
 modernists of Golden Lane and the brutalist poseurs of the Barbican. 

Interestingly, the very southern tip of Islington, south of Old Street towards St Giles and the Barbican, still retains much of its working-class kudos. The social housing is still there, the street market thrives. The street signs still declair them as part of Finsbury. And you can't move in Kennedy's fish and chip shop for gobby taxi drivers.

It is a Whitecross Street Pat Moriarty and her first generation of exotic locals would recognise. Much has changed, but some things also stay the same.


'Still No Idea' is at the Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square, Chelsea, London SW1W 8AS, until November 17.

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