The beautiful writing makes our preconceptions come crashing down
Athena Stevens’ new play Diagnosis is an ingenious use of theatre to launch an exploration of the uncomfortable rollercoaster ride, where people with disabilities yo-yo between being overlooked, ignored, not taken seriously, and being subjected to unwanted stares as unwitting spectacles, writes Mary Bradshaw.
The play is imaginative – the protagonist can foresee the catastrophic injuries of the able-bodied – but the world it portrays is our own: a world where policy and protocol can be more formality than function, protecting policy makers and law enforcement above anyone else. Where difficult voices are silenced by that powerful label of ‘mad’, and anybody that isn’t ‘normal’ is seen as a ‘responsibility’.
‘S/he’ (Athena Stevens) is brought in for police questioning after assaulting a man in a ‘Nitrous Bar’. It’s a ‘bad cop, bad cop’ situation: neither young ‘Rookie’ (Ted Walliker) nor the older ‘Officer’ (Ché Walker, also director) can believe their eyes. The only possible explanation is that ‘this little thing’, in a wheelchair who had hoped that they would be seen for themselves, not as a ‘responsibility’, couldn’t handle rejection on a night out. But this time, listening to Athena is a matter of life or death. Her special powers and her job as a drone operator surveying risk on the London Underground passages (Stevens was a consultant to the Underground for seven years), place her in a position of care and of superior knowledge to those around her. They must listen, to let her protect them.
The audience is the ‘Citizen Supervisory Panel’ in a world where police interrogations of ‘vulnerable people’ are governed by Public Oversight Code 22. Whilst the audience are protected by an imaginary one-way mirror, and the officers safe behind their protocol, Athena is observed like any other police interrogation ‘subject’, but subjected to far harsher scrutiny. The formalities that are designed to protect her appear to accentuate her vulnerability. Every word is transcribed, every movement meticulously filmed (by Rio Redwood-Sawyerr or Lev Govoravski each night) with the live footage projected behind her in such a way that we see her two, three times over.
This multimedia work is strong (with Julian Starr as Sound Designer). Athena Stevens has a tremendous way with words. This does mean that, odd as it may sound, the piece seems at times a little too well-written: the language seeming better suited to the narrative of a documentary interviewee than to a suspect brought in for questioning in the early hours. On the other hand, this might be the very point. The beautiful writing makes our preconceptions come crashing down – even under the over-stimulating glare of the strip lighting, Athena’s unrelenting eloquence triumphs over what Ché Walker’s Officer initially termed her ‘slurred speech’. Will people listen so she can help them save the world?
It is best to read the programme beforehand with its reflections, glossary and map, to make the most of the fleeting 60-or-so minutes of this powerful production and to read more about Athena Stevens’ works.
Diagnosis, at Finborough Theatre, 118 Finborough Road, London, SW10 9ED until 7 June
Booking and full details: https://finboroughtheatre.co.uk/production/diagnosis/
