Emily Howlett: Review of ‘Self Raising’ by Jenny Sealey (BSL)

Generally speaking, I really don’t like theatre shows that expect audiences to participate; I figure I get enough of being a performer in my actual life (both as an actor and as a parent). But I have to say, Jenny Sealey’s new solo show, ‘Self-Raising’, contains audience participation that did nothing to harm, embarrass or spotlight anyone, but simply melted my cold, stone heart. All she asks of a few audience members is that they look after her babies; bags of flour which we have to hold and occasionally rock if they’re restless… All of which are ultimately very important to the story.

Self-Raising, which Jenny is currently performing for Edinburgh Fringe Festival, at the Pleasance Dome venue, is an autobiographical one woman show (although she is accompanied onstage by a terp, sorry, BSL interpreter). It has been co-written with Mike Kenny, and from the moment you enter the space, to be welcomed by Jenny cradling a bag of flour like a baby, time flies in a blur of washing up, secrets, photographs, pain, and love.

Jenny’s personal story is the core of the play, around which she twists a commentary on growing up deaf in a hearing world, disability politics, family politics and great literature (if you don’t recognise the book ‘Flour Babies’ which is referenced in the play, you’re both very young and very lucky, as you now get the chance to read it for the first time).

As someone many people associate with being a director, and lynchpin of Graeae Theatre Company, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Jenny knows how to hold an audience’s attention. It’s also no surprise, considering her work, that the show includes many access elements; not just BSL and captions, but also audio description for blind and visually impaired audiences, and the venue is wheelchair accessible. Being able to see a show on any date is always a lovely treat for me as a deaf person, and while the show is entirely Jenny’s, about her life, there’s also a lot to empathise with for someone who is disabled, trying to get along in this disabling world.

The images and captions were created by Jenny’s son Jonah, who also voices over any words which appear. This is just one lovely personal touch in a production that has showcased, instead of hiding, bonds of love even within tricky family relationships, hits and misses and questions never quite answered. The set is simple, but effective, and really allows the story and its telling to be the focal point.

The personal facts of this story would pull in any audience member, because the story is simply so fascinating and so familiar. But the performance from Sealey is genuinely captivating; even when she’s merely washing up, you can see the thoughts flickering across her face; can she say this? Should she say this? Should she say it to us?

Jenny says it is easier to tell your secrets to strangers than talk to the people who you really should be talking to about it. This show scatters photographs, memories, secrets and feelings like flour dust, and just like flour settling on clothes, we can’t help but carry them away with us. But very lightly, not a heavy weighty thing. Which is an amazing personal and theatrical achievement. And I hope Jenny knows that.

By Emily Howlett