Camden People’s Theatre’s SPRINT Festival returns with a packed programme throughout March. London’s “best-established carnival of new and unusual theatre” features artists with bold ideas, artists who don’t play by the rules, and artists, in many instances, making their first professional work.
This is the sixteenth of a series of interviews highlighting artists and work within the Festival, as I chat with performer Stoness Verda about their show, That Song From Rocky Horror (Toucha Toucha Touch Me).
An hour-long version of this notesapp entry: “Everyone on the bus was obsessed with me (we lurched around a corner, I almost fell, and two people tried to help me. Basically group-sex). It was the most touch and genuine concern for my well-being I’d felt all week.”
Part community gathering, part pole performance, we dance with acts of care, community building and the commodification of intimacy. Stoness uses their past and ongoing experience with sex work. They speak candidly with ex-girlfriends, future wives (friends), family, other sex workers and explore relationships with clients, working together to answer the question: is sex work care work?
We parse the qualities of intimacy, comparing the nature of self-care post session to that of the care extended to clients, friends, the audience. Ultimately asking; how do we care for each other in an increasingly lonely and digitised world?
Absurd humour twirls alongside earnest moments as we build a profile together, taking promo photos, hearing about Stoness’s entry into the industry and cheering their pursuit of an extended butterfly (which hasn’t happened since they were 18) on the pole by the end of the show.
Where: Camden People’s Theatre
When: 20 Mar, 7.15pm
Ticket link: https://cptheatre.co.uk/whatson/That-Song-From-Rocky-Horror-Toucha-Toucha-Touch-Me
Your show That Song From Rocky Horror is part of SPRINT this year. What can you tell us about it?
The show uses sex work as a jumping off point to discuss intimacy, and loneliness, and the various of forms of care we employ as antidotes. The audience and I work together to answer, is sex work care work? It is heavy on audience participation. One of the themes is community building, and that’s physically echoed in how involved I’m asking them to be, in creating a space together as we go.
You use your own experiences in sex work in the show, exploring issues around touch and care. How do you think attitudes towards people in your industry has changed or is changing?
I think in many circles we’ve moved past this sort of ancient “harlot” perception. But I think people prefer bigger sweeping narratives over reality. I think they picture Fantine in Les Mis, selling her teeth on the street or OnlyFans creators making millions from their bedroom.
They struggle to accept that the truth actually lies somewhere in the middle, that the people doing it are just people, and the personal negotiations necessitated by capitalism aren’t exclusive to SW. The labour issues of SW align with those of most professions. Generally, I’d like to contribute to a more nuanced dialogue around it.
How did you come to gravitate towards theatrical performance?
Probably exposure to Susan Sarandon too young…I grew up doing community theatre, transitioned to a couple more producorial roles, then fell away from it a bit. But I’ll always come back to live performance. Not to be so Nicole Kidman “we come to this place for magic” but, I think being in a room with strangers, all there together to support something that someone worked on is one of the only things giving me hope.
Almost everything encourages isolation and individualised convenience and I think it’s cool that we have something getting people to go out and be in physical spaces together. Basically you go to a theatre and more often than not you get to see a beautiful women singing a song. What more could we ask for?
What message would you like your audience to take away from the show?
I’d like them to value growth and process; around their own conceptions of sex work, of how we relate to each other, and organise together to improve the collective human experience. Audience involvement is a huge part of the show. I’d like them to walk away feeling like slight inconvenience and effort are worth it to build something together – both the set piece in the show, and broader political movements. I’d like them to think about the dynamics of interpersonal interactions in sex work and beyond.
And what’s next after SPRINT?
We are talking to a couple theatres in England for possible re-mounts in the future. We’re also looking into short runs in Melbourne (where the director Kerensa Diball is from) and Toronto (where I grew up). Otherwise, continuing to support people working towards de-criminalisation and workers rights like SWARM, ECP and THORN.