30 minute read
Jewel of the South Downs
exploits inspired the sexual revolution of the 1960s, while the bohemian interiors of Charleston went on to inspire many designers. As you’re taking a tour around the house, you’re seeing the original vision that would go on to add a splash of colour and character to homes all over the world. The style of the property is timeless.
Alex Klineberg gives a tour of Charleston, the Bloomsbury Set’s glamorous country retreat near Firle
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) One day, when we emerge from lockdown with terrible hair and depleted social skills, booking a trip somewhere will be at the top of my list. While travelling abroad might be off the table for the foreseeable, staycations and day trips might be the best we can hope for. One of the best day trips you can take from Brighton is to Charleston in Firle, which was the Sussex home of Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. It became a country retreat for the Bloomsbury Set, which was a group of writers, artists and intellectuals, many of whom lived in Bloomsbury – yeah, that’s where they got the name. The London properties of the Bloomsbury Set were destroyed in The Blitz. Charleston is the only Bloomsbury property to survive with the original furnishings intact. And what lovely furnishings they are. Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant were both great designers and artists. Charleston became a life-long artistic project as well as a home. They painted everything themselves, from the fireplace to the dining table. The property has been preserved exactly as they left it. It’s now managed by the National Trust.
The Bloosbury Set is credited with helping to eshaping the culture we live in. Their sexual Beyond the charming furnishings, the stories of what went on in the house are quite something. Your tour guide will fill you in on all the details. Although Duncan Grant and Vanessa Bell lived together and had a child, Grant was openly gay. Social and sexual experimentation were the order of the day among the Bloomsbury Set. Such behaviour was not only allowed, in many cases it was encouraged. The columnist Peter Hitchens has credited the Bloomsbury Set with giving us the liberal sexual politics of today. As Quentin Crisp said, he came from a time that was so conservative, if a girl wanted to wear nail polish she had to leave home for good. The Bloomsbury Set changed all of that.
Another Bloomsbury and Charleston luminary was economist John Maynard Keynes. He was also gay, although he would later marry Lydia Lopokova, a Russian ballerina. One day, while sitting on a bench in Charleston garden, he wrote arguably the most important letter in British history. In the letter, he pleaded with the Americans to send financial and military aid to support the fight against Nazi Germany. The letter yielded the desired result, but the British government wouldn’t finish off paying the debt until Gordon Brown was prime minister. This is one of endless Bloomsbury anecdotes you might
hear as you explore the house. You can even take a selfie on the bench looking all pensive. Virginia Woolf was Vanessa Bell’s sister. She lived in Monk’s House just outside Lewes. She used to walk to Charleston and join her sister’s friends in their bohemian exploits. If you’re really looking to expand your Bloomsbury knowledge, you can also take a trip to what was Virginia’s house, which is nowhere near as interesting as Charleston. If you’re feeling a little morbid, you can retrace Virginia’s final steps to the River Ouse where she ended her life – it’s just ten minutes from Monk’s House. Anyhow, back to Charleston. As you’ve gathered by now, many of the most influential British figures of the 20th century were regulars at Charleston. Towards the end of her life, Virginia Woolf said to her sister that while she had the fame and the career, Vanessa Bell had the family and the beautiful home.
DUNCAN GRANT'S BEDROOM. PHOTO: PENELOPE FEWSTER You can still see the faded paint on the kitchen table made by decades of elbow marks. It’ll make you wonder about the marks you’ll leave behind. While few of us can hope to leave a mark like the luminaries of the Bloomsbury Set did, visiting Charleston will inspire you to up your game. The Bloomsbury Set may have been overachievers, but they also mastered the art of friendship and good living. “Only connect,” Bloomsbury author EM Forster famously said. And as Virginia Woolf discovered at the end, although she became a legend, she’d probably have traded it all in to live the life her sister had at Charleston.
After lockdown, book a trip to Charleston. The guided tour will take just over an hour. You’ll feel very sophisticated. D www.charleston.org.uk
How has the campaign grown since its inception?
Football v Homophobia has been going for years now, but FvT only really started as a specific campaign in 2019 with the first week of action scheduled to coincide with Trans Day of Visibility. That year we did a few small awareness campaigns, some social media, and some clubs got involved with some designated fixtures, including football league match day programmes. Last year we had bigger plans, but of course the pandemic intervened, forcing us to do most of it online. This went a lot better than we could’ve imagined, as our #bintransphobia campaign got loads of people excited about filming themselves finding imaginative ways of getting a football into a bin during lockdown. This year we’re still doing the vast majority online, but hopefully next year we can have more actual football in the campaign.
Has trans representation in football improved in recent years?
Trans people have always been in football, but in recent years we have seen some first steps towards greater representation. We have some great trans football writers emerging, and there are a good number of trans footballers playing at a grassroots level, with one or two at a really competitive semi-pro level in England. We’re seeing trans people taking their places in the LGBTQ+ supporters groups, and beginning to feel safer to be visible in stadia (when we can go to them), as well as in administrative and support roles on and off the pitch. There’s a long way to go but seeing players like the Canadian international player Quinn being open about their identity is a huge boost. Trans people still face real barriers in getting into the game, in many countries being restricted to their sex assigned at birth, and in the vast majority of cases there is little or no provision for non-binary people. We hope by continuing to celebrate trans and non-binary identity in the game, and by providing resources to help clubs and administrative bodies to be more inclusive, that we can move in the right direction.
Football v Transphobia
The #FvT2021 campaign kicks off the week leading up to Trans Visibility Week on March 31. Natalie Washington, campaign lead, tells us more...
) Organisers of Football v Transphobia (FvT) are putting the finishing touches to plans for this year’s week of action, which takes place the week leading up to Trans Visibility Week on March 31. Natalie Washington, FvT lead, shares what they’re working on and answers a couple of questions. To keep up to date with plans, visit www.footballvhomophobia.com or follow @FvHtweets on Twitter. • Podcasts with some trans people in football – focusing a lot more on their actual involvement in football than gender stuff, with the idea of inspiring trans and non-binary people, but also portraying us as fully rounded people with lives in the game. Hoping to have players, supporters and people involved in administering or covering the game. • #TransFootyAlly campaign asking for wider participation on social media around the value of allies, and how the game is enriched by the presence of trans and non-binary people. Idea is to get people to share videos, images etc on social media talking about who they are, what they do in football, and, if they’re an ally, how trans people being in football has enriched their experience, and if they are trans, how being in football has enriched their life. To get involved in this part of the campaign, tweet #TransFootyAlly during the week of action. • We’re looking to share something on the Pathway to Play – outlining the rules for gendered participation, highlighting the difficulties this poses to the non-binary community, and giving a spotlight to the LGBTQ+ and gender inclusive leagues and teams in the UK that welcome trans and non-binary people to play. • Some sort of fun event to get some trans and
FvT KIT
Get Involved
The FvT week of action will take place the week leading up to Trans Day of Visibility on March 31. During the week of action, use #FvT2021, and/or #TransFootyAlly, and tag @FvHtweets.
Photography & words: Liam Campbell, editor & chief photographer of Elska magazine
Although I had suspicions about Northern Ireland being a conservative place, I kind of assumed that this was more just a stereotype. So I wasn’t prepared for how difficult it would be to find guys willing to take part in my Elska magazine project when I arrived in Belfast. I decided to reach out to the local drag scene, figuring that drag queens are often some of the most bold, brave, and activist people in any city. One of the first people I spoke to was Marcus, aka Lady Portia Di’ Monte, who quickly got on board, and also helped spread the word to some other Belfast guys, as well as offering me a place to crash if I needed it. It was all and more that I expected from probably Northern Ireland’s most legendary queen. Funnily, Marcus was pretty nervous during our shoot, that is until he put on this dress. I suppose he’s more used to the camera when in drag, and even though our shoot was ‘untucked’, a bit of drag helped give him some of the courage and fierceness he needed.
Hope & The Glory
The Glory is the place to party in East London and is one of the most popular LGBTQ+ bars in the country. But then the pandemic came along and it was forced to close. Colin Rothbart, a co-founder of The Glory and TV director, tells us of its origins, how it became so popular and the nature of running a bar during a pandemic
) Colin dated performance artist Jonny Woo for several years. One day, they decided to open a bar together. Colin explains: “While we were together, I had an informal club in my garden called The Shed. We had big after parties. It became quite well known in East London.” The Shed still pops up every once in a while from Colin’s garden. Well, it will when venues can reopen. “I’m a TV director; Jonny’s a performer. Opening a bar made sense, although venues are really expensive in London and it took us years to find one we could afford in the right area. We went into business with John Sizzle and opened The Glory in December 2014.” While it all happened quite quickly, taking over the bar came with considerable risk. “I was nervous. My whole life savings went into it. My dad told me not to do it. Haggerston, where the pub is, is called the Bermuda Triangle – not quite Dalston and not quite Shoreditch. It has to be a destination venue. Whereas Dalston Superstore gets lots of passing trade due to its location.
“At the time, The Black Cap, The Joiners Arms and various other gay bars had closed – it seemed like the time to do it. It was originally going to be called The Hackney Carriage; we also considered Her Majesty’s Pleasure. The Crown and Glory was also in the offing, but that sounds like a dentist so we called it The Glory.” The venue has been a pub for around two centuries and it was called The Victory. The building itself dates back to around 1815, so ‘The Glory’ is also a reference to the Napoleonic Wars. East London queers dancing the night away. Nelson and the Duke of Wellington would be proud! “We wanted somewhere with a performance space,” Colin says. “It’s an alternative gay bar – not your mainstream West End gay bar. It’s somewhere that gives stage time to someone who might not normally get it. We want it to appeal to the whole spectrum of the LGBTQ+ community – from gay to non-binary and trans. That’s why I think it works; it’s fun for everyone, regardless of sex, race or gender. We do collaborations with performers and promoters. We’ve collaborated with clubs in NYC and Berlin. We did a Jewish gay club night called BUTTMITZVAH. We’ve done Polish, Latino, Afro-Caribbean and Spanish gay nights. We’ve done lesbian nights, including a super-popular drag king competition called Man Up.” The pandemic has brought life grinding to a halt, as if you needed reminding. The effect has been especially extreme for the travel and hospitality industries. Successful businesses were forced to shut and watch their profits evaporate. And then came the tiers system that even government ministers struggle to clearly articulate. The Glory was able to open with restricted capacity and table service in Tier 2. The Culture Recovery Fund proved to be a lifeline. “We’ve been very lucky, not everyone got grants. The furlough scheme also helped. The government could have done more, of course. We were one of the last countries to lock down and our borders have been open. London is very much an international hub. There has been help, but hospitality has been hit the worst. Amazon and the supermarkets have seen their profits increase. There are winners and losers in a pandemic. It’s accelerating the move to online shopping and online everything. People are using apps more, from Deliveroo to Grindr,” says Colin. Tier 2 was only just profitable. Overheads remained just as high but profit margins were dramatically squeezed. People were queuing up to get into The Glory, but the venue was forced to turn people away when it reached capacity. “Historically, pandemics seem to last for 18 months to two years. Societies tend to go back to normal after pandemics. After the Spanish Flu in 1918 you had the Roaring 20s. It was a boom time. Hopefully, we’ll have another Roaring 20s. Make out on a dancefloor, go see live shows! For the few months when things reopened in summer, we were packed. The demand to go out was still there.”
The internet cannot act as a substitute for real life, as we’ve all discovered during lockdown. Scrolling through Instagram and watching YouTube videos doesn’t match making out on the dance floor of a packed club. “We’re hoping we can open around April – fingers crossed. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with the vaccines. Do we need vaccine passports? Will low-risk people be vaccinated last?” The Glory’s patrons are generally in the low risk category! “Our capacity is 250 people and we had to go down to around 80 in Tier 2. It’s stressful for bar staff, cleaning the toilets every hour, everyone wearing masks. You go along with it because you have to. We want to be open but we have to do it in line with government guidelines. The key is to stay in business, we got support but many gay venues didn’t.”
The Glory has a devoted following and it’s a truly unique venue. One thing is for sure: if the vaccine programme succeeds the new Roaring 20s will be in full swing at The Glory. D For more info on The Glory, visit:
www.theglory.co
#BeMoreJill
Brian Butler catches up with Jill Nalder, the inspiration behind the central character from Channel 4’s It’s A Sin
) Jill Nalder has had a distinguished and wideranging stage career, but I guess nothing could have prepared her for the amazing AIDS-era TV series It’s A Sin, where she plays opposite a fellow actor, Lydia West, who is playing Jill’s younger self. And creator Russell T Davies adds another spin – Jill plays TV Jill’s mother in the Channel 4 series. How was that I ask her – coming face to face with her younger self? “It was very surreal – more so off the set in discussions rather than during the filming. Once you are actually acting you are so concerned with the job and making the scene work, you forget the real-life story.“ Her long connection with Russell started when they met at West Glamorgan Youth Theatre as teenagers. “It was a county drama course. We loved it. We had such a laugh, a lot of crazy times and we – a small group of us – have been friends ever since.“
Central to the story of It’s A Sin is the Pink Palace where five young friends set up home initially unaware of the tsunami approaching. “The Pink Palace was our nickname for our flat when we were in drama college. It was seriously pink! The furniture – sofa and chairs – were dusky pink dralon. There were long pink velvet curtains, dark pinky/purple wallpaper and sort of dark pink carpets. It had many chandeliers and solid silver cutlery. It really was a palace. We had the best flat ever,” she tells me. The staggering central theme of the series is the nature of the illness and its painful untreated spread, leading almost always to death. Jill says: “The loss of my friends has left a big gap in my life. I feel so sad that they have missed so many years. Sadly someone who was part of the Pink Palace did die in the early 1990s. In It’s A Sin the characters are a mixture of the personalities of many of my friends and of Russell’s. “My time visiting hospitals on a regular basis spanned the best part of a decade. In the early years I went as a volunteer just to help fight the stigma and then in a more intense way when people very close to me fell ill”
”My feelings at the time were fear and confusion – fear of a mystery illness and, much like now, confusion and misinformation or simply lack of information. The stigma and prejudice then was very different though.” Her parents were extremely supportive although they didn’t march as in the TV episode depicting a demonstration. “However, they did come down from Wales many, many times to all our fundraising events’ “ Jill says. “I didn’t get arrested as Jill Baxter does. I’m not that brave. Russell has definitely added his own imagination to that part of the story.” What is true to life is the depiction of the young Jill visiting patients with AIDS – often their only visitor. “My time visiting hospitals on a regular basis spanned the best part of a decade. In the early years I went as a volunteer just to help fight the stigma and then in a more intense way when people very close to me fell ill. I was always in a hospital ward, it seems.” ”My feelings at the time were fear and confusion – fear of a mystery illness and much like now, confusion and misinformation or simply lack of information”
Jill has kept involved with AIDS-related fundraising with the charity West End Cares, and over the years with some fundraising for The Sussex Beacon in Brighton with David Raven, aka Maisie Trollette. “Now our theatre charity is called Theatre MAD – Make A Difference – and we are right now planning our next fundraising event in the West End when we finally come out of lockdown.”
Jill’s theatre career has been heavily populated with musicals since she left college – Annie, Gypsy, Godspell, Oliver! and Les Mis as well as extensive UK tours – a total of eight years in the West End. “That was joy. Recently before It’s A Sin I was in a film called Finding Your Feet and I also work with my own theatre company, set up with fellow Les Mis performers Linda Jarvis and Jon Osbaldeston, together with lifelong friend and West End MD Jae Alexander. The company – WestEnders – performs staged musical concerts everywhere from Brighton to the Amazon.”
Was she surprised by the outpouring of feeling over It’s A Sin? “I’m overwhelmed by the public reaction to the series. We all are. It is so, so exciting. It seems we are trending all over social media – unbelievable!“ she says. As the weekly slot of the series comes to an end, it’s obvious that the young Jill is the glue that keeps these friends together and leads to behind-the-scenes work caring for those who suffered the onslaught of not only a then-deadly illness but the public and media ignorance and phobia at the time. And real-life Jill Nalder is still supplying that glue today – some 40 years on. It’s even been given a social media tag – #BeMoreJill. Fabulous lady. D For more info on Theatre MAD - Make a Difference, visit: www.madtrust.org.uk
We chat to two couples from a new project which celebrates those who found love in the decade of social division, Section 28 and the AIDS/HIV epidemic
) The We Found Love In The 80s project, launched to coincide with LGBTQ+ History Month last month and supported by Arts Council England and Future Arts Centres, was created by artist Dawinder Bansal and synth pop musician Martyn Ware (of Human League and Heaven 17 fame). The project is part of the Here and Now celebration of culture, which celebrates couples who met in the era of innovation, social division, Section 28 and the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and explores how they overcame obstacles such as homophobia, racism and class prejudice. D More info: www.wefoundloveinthe80s.com Ian & Ian
Ian Bodenham and Ian Johns had to grapple self-acceptance in a society rife with homophobia, Section 28, prejudice and misinformation about AIDS. They came out to their families 10 years after starting their relationship. They were married in 2014, and now run a vintage shop in Brick Lane.
How did you meet?
IJ: In late 1983 I spotted a cute young man at The Bell in Kings Cross and tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at me. A few weeks later I saw him again at The Asylum at Heaven, still no luck. A short while later I got on a train at Tottenham Court Road and he was sitting directly opposite. He still would not look at me. A week or so later at Asylum he was there again – one last try and if it doesn’t work that’s it, I thought. I was in luck! He smiled at me and we finally met. I found out he had seen me too but was just too shy to reciprocate.
What do you remember of the AIDS epidemic?
IJ: The first time I heard about a strange new disease affecting gay men I clearly remember. It was in 1983 and I was talking to friends in Heaven nightclub. Someone was speaking about herpes, saying it never goes away. Another friend said there was a new disease that gay men were catching in America, you got flu and then died. It just got closer and closer until it was a friend of a friend, then a friend and ex-partners. It was terrifying, there was no test and I thought I was going to die. For a while I tried to block it out but that changed a few years later when I felt I had to learn as much as I could. I did a lot of training around HIV/ AIDS and became a volunteer at Switchboard in London.
Tell us your coming out story.
IJ: I was sexually active from a very early age but didn’t come out to family and friends until I was 22. To my astonishment I had no problem with anyone, in fact most people I told said they thought I probably was anyway. My family, especially my sister, was very supportive; I was very lucky, I felt so much more confident and happy living as an openly gay man. IB: In 1981 I moved into a flatshare in Camberwell with a flamboyant girl called Fiona, to whom it was fairly easy for me to come out, initially as bisexual – not that I was, but back then it was a way of testing the waters, perhaps it still is for some. Through Fiona early in 1982 I met a gay friend of a similar age and he took me to the RVT, then clubs like Bang, Cha Chas and Heaven. Gradually I built up a network of friends with whom I could be myself. I’d dropped out of college and was doing casual jobs where there was no pressure to hide my sexuality. London was becoming an exciting and varied scene around then with places like The Bell in Kings Cross and The Asylum at Heaven catering for a pretty left-field crowd of underground sounds and styles, which is where I felt I fitted at last. “My family, especially my sister, was very supportive; I was very lucky, I felt so much more confident and happy living as an openly gay man”
There was a strong political element to life, not confined only to LGBTQ+ issues, but galvanised by the acts of a very right wing Tory government led by Thatcher, who was almost universally despised. By this time we were beginning to appear in the media, but in the most horrific way – represented as freaks, monsters and pariahs. Some of the coverage was so extreme, some were calling for draconian measures like exile and quarantine. This in turn emboldened an already hostile minority to attack individuals and venues. Public services were also affected by the paranoia – some healthcare workers refused to treat HIV+ people, or even anyone gay, police conducted raids in PPE style protective gear. But this hostility just brought us together even more, lesbians were particularly supportive and tireless in helping their ailing gay brothers.
Helen & Deirdre
Helen Juffs and Deirdre Figueiredo met in Nottingham while neither were ‘out’ nor had had a relationship with a woman before. Through support of gay friends, they established their relationship and gradually confided in friends and family. They married in 2014.
How did you meet?
H: Deirdre was working in the Exhibitions Team at Nottingham Castle Museum (her first job), and I volunteered to gain experience just after I had left university. The first time I saw Deirdre she was jetting off to Germany to courier a painting and she was wearing gold shoes. Gradually we became friends and found we shared interests. It was very much an analogue world so we left each other handwritten notes and small gifts. Eventually Deirdre summoned up the courage to move things along. When I leant in to kiss her on the check when I was dropping her off at home she moved her head and kissed me on the lips. I reciprocated – a first with a woman for both of us. My head blew off and her heart melted – and the rest is history. “The acceptance of the acronym LGBTQI+ and particularly the reclaiming of the word queer has been liberating and would have made life in the 80s easier”
For those who weren’t there, what was it like living as LGBTQ+ in the 1980s?
H: I came of age in the mid-80s – turning 16 in 1983. Male homosexuality had only been decriminalised since 1967 and the age of consent was 21.
I experienced strong feelings for men and women but lacked the vocabulary and information to know what this meant. Growing up during the AIDS epidemic and introduction of Section 28 set an underlying feeling of fear and shame which was difficult to overcome.
D: I had no relatable role models and there were no positive ones in the mainstream media. I felt different and was attracted to different people not linked to a particular sex. Information was hard to come by. I didn’t feel I could be open with my immediate family or with friends or colleagues so I kept my feelings hidden. If we couldn’t be ourselves with our blood family we had to create new forms of family among an alternative community – what Thatcher’s Section 28 legislation described as ‘pretend families’.
What do you remember of the AIDS epidemic?
H: It wasn’t until 1992 that one of our close friends was diagnosed with AIDS. Even though by then a lot more was known about the disease and how it was passed on, our friend was reluctant to share his diagnosis with even the closest of friends. We went to visit him in hospital, and he was desperate for some sign of normalcy – asking Deirdre to kiss him on the lips, their usual greeting, rather than the hug she tentatively offered, not knowing what was safe.
DEIRDRE & HELEN. PHOTO CREDIT: DEE PATEL OF OUTROSLIDE PHOTOGRAPHY book called Women and Bisexuality – she had a meltdown and didn’t speak to me for some weeks. Eventually she picked up the phone and has been incredibly supportive ever since. D: It has been a cautious and piecemeal process across life, friendship and work. I have always assessed a situation before deciding whether to come out or not. It’s only now in my 50s that I feel l can always be open, but for most of my life this hasn’t been the case.
LGBTQ+ communities have made progress, but do we have further to go?
H: Yes definitely – there is still a legacy of fear, mistrust and unexpressed grief from people who identify as LGBTQ+ from the 1980s, and before. While millennials are experiencing a renaissance in acceptance of fluid sexuality and gender which hasn’t been seen globally for many years (Ancient Greece, trans people in India, etc), the elders of our community are still reeling from their experiences. As we age people generally turn to authorities and institutions to provide extra assistance but for older LGBTQ+ this means either coming out again and again, or having to hide again. In cases where people have dementia this is particularly confusing. Statistics show that LGBTQ+ communities are just not accessing help when they need it. D: The acceptance of the acronym LGBTQI+ and particularly the reclaiming of the word queer has been liberating and would have made life in the 80s easier. I feel like I’m going through a renaissance of discovery and new possibilities for identity and belonging.
D: In the early to mid-80s I remember a fear and stigma with terrifying and marginalising adverts on national TV.
What would you say if you could speak or offer advice to your 1980s self?
H: Be confident to follow your instinct and intuition – don’t put other people’s feelings above your own. Don’t try to protect people from the truth. Appreciate what you have – youth, vigour, good health – have more fun and be more outrageous! D: Talk to someone.
Tell us your coming out story.
H: Given the fear caused by AIDS and Section 28, and the generally homophobic society, I was reluctant to come out until I was sure what I was ‘coming out’ as. The first people I came out to were Deirdre’s gay friends, and then some close work colleagues. This just happened naturally – though I did have to take one colleague to the pub and spell it out! I wanted to come out to my immediate family as soon as I felt secure in my relationship with Deirdre – because I didn’t like being dishonest about events. However, my dad was diagnosed with cancer and I just didn’t want to add to the family trauma. After my dad had died I came out to my mum by showing her a copy of a
SKIN. COPYRIGHT MARCO OVANDO
IT TAKES BLOOD & GUTS
Skin, lead singer of rock band Skunk Anansie, solo artist, LGBTQ+ activist and all-around trailblazer, launches her memoir this month in a broadcast event hosted by Southbank Centre
) When Skunk Anansie emerged in the mid-90s, they did so with quite a bang. This was largely due to Skin, the band’s almost impossibly cool lead singer. With her shaved head, big voice and charisma, she became a star overnight. No one else in the music industry looked or sounded like her. They released six albums and secured themselves a place in the Guinness Book of Records as one of the most successful British bands of the 1990s. Releasing their debut record in 1994, they were loosely associated with the Britpop movement. But Skunk Anansie don’t fit into any one category. Led by a working-class, black, British gay woman, Skunk Anansie broke the mould. All these years later they still do. How many successful rock bands have emerged since with a singer like Skin? Her story is unique and she’s decided to tell it from her own perspective. Her memoir, It Takes Blood and Guts, came out in September 2020. “You’ve got to keep moving forward, keep striving for everything you want to be”
According to Skin: “It’s been a very difficult thing being a lead singer of a rock band looking like me and it still is. I have to say it’s been a fight and it will always be a fight. That fight drives you and makes you want to work harder... It’s not supposed to be easy, particularly if you’re a woman, you’re black or you are gay like me. You’ve got to keep moving forward, keep striving for everything you want to be. It’s been a fight, and there has been a personal cost, but I wouldn’t have done it any other way.” Skill will be discussing the book at Southbank Centre as part of the Inside Out literary events programme. The event will be broadcast online on Thursday, March 4 at 7.30pm and will be available On Demand for seven days. She is set to return to Southbank Centre in June to perform at Grace Jones’ Meltdown festival. Naturally, Grace Jones broke the mould in the same way back in the 70s and 80s. The combined force of Skin and Grace will make for quite the post-lockdown treat. According to Skin, Skunk Anansie are very much a live band. In 1999, they performed on the biggest stage in British rock as Glastonbury headliners. Fast-forward 20 years, and Stormzy did the same to great effect. He initially claimed to be the first black artist to secure the headline slot, but when he realised his error he Tweeted: “Skin from the band Skunk Anansie was actually the first black artist to headline glasto she done it with her band in 1999 no disrespect intended and MASSIVE salute to you – my apologies! @skinskinny.” (sic) It’s unfortunate that her groundbreaking headline slot was all but forgotten, but as Stormzy’s Tweet demonstrated, Skin is finally getting the credit she deserves. D For tickets to Skin’s Inside Out literary event, visit: www.southbankcentre.co.uk/
whats-on/literature-poetry/skin-it-takesblood-and-guts
D For more info on Grace Jones’ Meltdown festival, visit: https://www.southbankcentre.
