Director Nancy Medina talks new London production of ‘Choir Boy’: “The world makes black and brown boys men before they are men”

Following a successful inaugural run at the Bristol Old Vic, the production travels to London’s Theatre Royal Stratford East for a limited run until the end of April. Guillermo Nazara chats with the director to learn more about her approach to the piece and how this 2012 play resonates in today’s world more than ever.

How does it feel to be finally bringing the show to the London stage?

It feels really good! It’s been very exciting to come here. There’s been a lot of enthusiasm from audiences. So many people actually came from London to see it in Bristol. It’s so nice. I feel like we’ve been welcome with a lot of love. And after the Black British Awards, it was obvious the show needed to come over here!

What enticed you to take on the project in the first place?

I read this play a long time ago. After that, I met with the author, Tarell, and had deep conversations about the motherly figure being present in the narrative. He was very interested in a female director finally doing this play. There are no female characters in this piece, but the essence of a mother pervades all of them. I, myself, am mother of two boys. So often, a lot of the work that I do is around vulnerable young boys. It’s really important to see three-dimensional black and brown boys in our stages. That’s why I instantly fell in love with this play, because of its tenderness and gentleness, and because of how it depicts the complexity of our lives.

Has the gap between Bristol and London given the opportunity to make any creative additions?

I don’t often get to revisit my work, so coming back to a story that I love so much is an incredible privilege. The majority of the cast is also back, and we are so grateful to have the opportunity to go deeper. When Tarell first wrote this play, the stage direction says that this play is happening today, in our time. There’s a level of sadness in the fact that this always must be present. These issues and these themes are still as prevalent as when he first wrote about them. However, I think that in the context of where we are now both politically and globally, with the narrowing and minimization of queer spaces, it’s very interesting to intersect that reality with the black and brown experience. It feels incredibly relevant to be doing it today. And I think that our priority is how we are speaking to today’s audiences. It’s not about what the play once meant, but what it means now.

How are the themes of blackness, queerness, and faith explored throughout the narrative?

It’s all about being invited into the complexity of these young boys’ lives. They have a certain responsibility to uphold a legacy at their preparatory school, which has a generation of black leaders. Some of them are family, and they are being educated to be the future leaders. They’re holding a lot of weight as for who they are and who they are meant to be. In the end, it’s the universal theme of young people growing up and finding their own sense of self while understanding the generations that they carry in their shoulders.

What other themes does the story cover?

There’s the story of a mother’s grief. Also, at different moments, we hear about the characters’ relationships with their mothers. There’s also the subject of black and brown boys are not usually allowed to have a childhood.

Why do you think that happens?

The world makes them men before they are men. It projects something on them that feels very unfair and sad.

Is that due to cultural background or racial prejudice?

It’s all of it. It’s a real dehumanisation when you don’t allow softness and tenderness for these boys. I think that’s what this play really allows us to understand. When we speak about the mother figure, we speak about that softness — a place where one is held, where one can lean into emotions and be vulnerable. That’s why the characters rely on each other, because the world doesn’t offer them that.

Is it the same case for queer people?

Any marginalised group that’s put into a certain box and not allowed to be their whole selves faces this. You’re not allowed to be messy. There are so many expectations put upon you. They have nothing to do, they have to do with societal views. Yet, you still need to navigate them, while also understanding how you see yourself. Those two things are always different, and that can sometimes be really exhausting.

As a director, what particular creative challenges have you faced in this piece?

The biggest challenge is how multilayered this play is. You may read the script and understand the story, but the way that Tarell puts in pop culture, literary, and biblical references makes it so rich. Deciphering those meaning is definitely a challenge. Also, a third of the play is a cappella music. These actors make it look so easy, but what they do is incredibly hard. It’s such a joy to watch them. At the same time, showcasing what these spirituals meant when they were first created and what they mean for these individual characters now is also challenging, especially when it comes to communicating them to today’s audiences.

Is there any message you’re trying to convey through this play?

I don’t think I ever deliver messages. Instead, I try to be very clear about what themes of the story are. I prefer to allow people to ponder into thoughts and questions rather than giving them answers. I guess my main intention is for these men to be seen as human, and to make clear that we care about them and about their lives.

Why come see Choir Boy?

It’s gonna make you laugh, and it’s gonna touch your heart.

Choir Boy plays at London’s Theatre Royal Stratford East until 25 April. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara