Don’t Call Me Blondie is a new show from Echoism Productions. Artistic director and writer Belle-Ann Daly-Morgan tells us more about this “bold and captivating collection”.
“Six monologues. One hour.
Love, heartbreak, and lust are – arguably – some of the most relatable yet alienating feelings a person can experience.
These emotions are riddled with contradiction: pushing us to our limits, unearthing our deepest insecurities, and often leaving us unsure of who we are.”
Where: Canal Cafe Theatre
When: 12 – 13 Aug
Ticket link: https://camdenfringe.com/events/dont-call-me-blondie/
What is your show about and what inspired it?
Don’t Call Me Blondie is a series of six monologues exploring heartbreak, love, and lust in all their messiness.
The pieces range from a teenage boy’s fumbling attempt at a love confession, to what it means to be “the other woman” in someone else’s affair, to oversharing half-drunk about a situation you’re not quite over.
The first piece I wrote was the titular Don’t Call Me Blondie (performed by Lillie Barlow). It began as a semi-therapeutic scrap of writing, inspired by an old relationship.
An ex-girlfriend used to call me “Blondie” – a nickname that sounded affectionate, but was often used to deflect or dismiss her wrongdoings.
I’d confront her with proof of infidelity, and she’d say I’d broken her trust, but that I was “still her Blondie.” At the time it felt romantic… looking back, it was far from it.
Barlow’s character, Ari, explores how people repress the trauma from
previous relationships in order to move onto new ones – despite the fact that they aren’t emotionally prepared for this.
Some of the monologues are rooted in my own experiences, while others are based on conversations I’ve had with friends based on their own experiences.
Never a God (performed by Pia Marr) draws from a friend’s past ‘situationship’, and first queer experience.
An Ode to The Other Woman (performed by Sophie Macnair) was written after I realised I’d unknowingly been pulled into someone else’s romantic drama.
I wasn’t complicit in the way
Sophie’s character is, but it made me think: if I had known, how would I have reacted? And for those who are complicit – what are they really getting from the situation?
White Noise (performed by Lily-Jo Walters) explores the raw emotional aftermath of infidelity. There’s Always the South of France (performed by Reece Marshall) flips the usual cynicism around dating apps and focuses on their hidden comforts.
And Pick Me, from Over Yonder (performed by Luiis Rouf) centres on a teenage boy whose defences get in the way of expressing something real.
This show is stitched together from pieces I’ve written about the romantic lives of myself and my friends.
Even if the specific situations aren’t directly relatable, the grounded nature of the writing means that people will see themselves in this eclectic cast of characters.
Why should people come to see your show and what might they expect?
Come if you’ve ever been on a bad date. Or a mixed one, where you left feeling too
much – or not enough. Come if you’ve been in a toxic relationship, or if you’re wondering if you’re in one.
Come if you’re empathetic, or curious about other people. This is a play that
doesn’t see people for what they are, rather, what they experience and how they react. I can guarantee that there will be sharp writing, gutsy performances and tonal shifts that keep you
on your toes.
One moment you’re laughing in recognition, the next you’re uncomfortable and completely immersed in the life of this character.
I’ve never been interested in smoothing the edges of human nature in my writing. If you want to watch something that makes you feel seen, this is it.
How did you make a start in the business?
I’m currently studying playwriting (Writing for Performance) at the Royal Central School of Speech & Drama, heading into my second year 1 but I’ve been a keen writer for years.
I attended Elstree Screen Arts Academy, where I found my love for writing for audiences – whether that be screen or stage, but I’ve been coming up with performances since I was a child.
I’d make my mum watch my one woman plays (occasionally featuring a nensemble of teddies), which were babbling and structurally, probably awful – but it was the start of a lifelong passion.
I’ve found myself being in various environments where my voice wasn’t always valued or heard, so theatre is my way of getting people to listen.
This is my first piece under my new company, Echoism Productions – which I’ve launched in the hopes that other young theatre
makers will have a place where their voices are valued and appreciated.
Do you have a favourite type of venue to work in?
I’ve always leaned towards more intimate spaces, where the audience are five feet away from the performers and everything is on show.
The Canal Café Theatre is perfect for this. It suits monologue work perfectly: the immediate intimacy, the vulnerability, the overwhelming sense that the audience and actors are sharing the same air.
It feels more like you’re observing people in crisis than watching a performance.
What’s next for you and the show?
Some of the characters in Don’t Call Me Blondie were incredibly fun to explore – namely, Marie (Sophie Macnair). I’ve always leaned towards ambiguous characters, and she’s the mostmorally grey in the show.
Inspired by her monologue, I’ve started to write a one woman play about sex, affairs and the overwhelming feeling that you are, in fact, a bad person.
Ultimately, though, my goal is to platform new writers and directors through Echoism and collaborate with performers who want to tell raw, defiant stories.
I’m eager to achieve this via
scratch nights and workshops.