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Liz Ryan of Yorkshire Playwrights on 'Writers in Chains', the Amnesty International / Yorkshire Playwrights conference of 31 March 2001...
The British are good at censorship. In the absence of the keynote speaker (Sarajevo's Dr Aldijana Sisic, who was being towed by the AA back to London in her broken-down car), Dr Steve Nicholson of Huddersfield did us proud. In a better-ordered state, his talk on the history of the Lord Chamberlain's Office would have been videoed by the security services and made part of the core curriculum for trainee secret policemen. If you want to censor the theatre, avoid international embarrassment by doing it the British way. It's vulgar to lock playwrights up -- it makes people think you don't stand for free speech and fair play. Better by far to present the issue as one of taste and decency, to lean gently but firmly on the theatre manager and order an artistic death by a thousand cuts.
I would not wish to downplay the creative contribution by Peter and Laura Johnson which launched the day's proceedings, the experiences of Malawian poet Jack Mapanje (non-violent, non-political and imprisoned by his government for reasons he could never quite fathom) or those of Indonesian playwright and human rights activist Ratna Sarumpaet (unable to be with us in person but whose words were spoken at the conference by actor Vanessa Rosenthal). Yet it was, time and again, reports of the British experience that brought us up short with new ideas, taught us something we didn't know and justified our entrance money. There was, for example, Arnold Wesker's truculent creation Whatever Happened To Betty Lemon? -- a short play which he aired at the conference. It wasn't, in the strictest sense of the term, "about" censorship: it was a physical demonstration of something else, the vacuum of silence into which we in Britain drop the elderly, the disabled, the frankly-a-bit-loopy-and-embarrassing. But if you really want to gag somebody -- another lesson for the secret policemen's college -- give them a 'gong' or a patronising award.
John Arden's contribution was different -- a personal history of his wife, Margaretta D'Arcy, who protested a civil rights issue in Northern Ireland and was branded an apologist for terrorism. This made it difficult for the pair of them to get plays on -- even the liberal arts establishment steered clear. Don't enquire, he urged us, into the guilt or innocence of a writer in trouble. That is doing the work of the security forces for them. Just go to the writer's aid and leave it to the government to prove its case.
A day overstuffed with, well not exactly delights, came to a close with contributions from the floor. Novelist Heather Stroud told of her experiences with the Vietnamese Boat People in Hong Kong. Actor Steve Huison (of Full Monty fame) wondered why such a talented concentration of people -- speakers and audience -- didn't just storm the Playhouse stage. And finally somebody asked -- what won't get on, in Britain, now? John Arden said the IRA, or anything that makes a bunch of theatre people nervous. Arnold Wesker said false memory syndrome (the therapist not as hero but manipulator) and a positive portrayal of Jews. Trevor Griffiths had the most chilling answer: BSE.
