Playwright Ryan Calais Cameron talks about becoming the first patron of Camden People’s Theatre: “If you only invest in what’s proven, you stop discovering what’s next”

With several widely acclaimed pieces to his credit, including Retrograde and For Black Boys, Ryan Calais Cameron has cemented his status as one of the most prominent authors of his generation. Now, the writer reconnects with his roots by becoming a benefactor to the venue that gave him the opportunity to set his artistic path. Guillermo Nazara chats with him about this new initiative and the urge to help an ecosystem in which new creatives face more hardships than ever.

How does it feel to reconnect with the theatre that gave you one of your very first opportunities as a writer?

It feels full circle in the best way. Places like Camden People’s Theatre give you a stage; they give you permission to fail, to experiment, to find your voice without the pressure of perfection. When I was starting out, that kind of space was everything. Coming back now is about recognising that someone opened a door for me and asking how I can help keep that door open for the next person.

What’s prompted you to become a patron now?

Timing and perspective. As you move through the industry, you start to see just how fragile the ecosystem is for emerging artists. It doesn’t sustain itself — it needs people to actively invest in it, not just financially but with time, visibility, and belief. Becoming a patron felt like a way of formalising that commitment. It’s me saying: “I value this space, I believe in what it does, and I want to help protect it.”

Emerging artists are getting fewer opportunities to get their work produced. What do you think are the causes for this decline of support?

It’s a mix of economics and fear. The cost of making work has gone up while funding has gone down. And as a result, institutions have become more risk-averse. There’s a tendency now to back what feels safe (adaptations, revivals, known names) because there’s pressure to fill seats and justify budgets.

But the danger is, if you only invest in what’s proven, you stop discovering what’s next. And that’s where emerging artists get squeezed out.

Are audiences responsible for this situation too?

I think it’s more complex than that. Audiences can only respond to what’s being offered to them. If they’re constantly being told what’s “worth seeing” is the familiar, then naturally that’s what they gravitate towards.

That said, there is a role for audiences to be more curious, to take a chance on something unknown. Because every major voice we celebrate now was once an emerging artist asking people to come and see something with no guarantees.

Why is it important for producers to take risks?

Because culture doesn’t move forward without risk. Every important piece of work, every voice that shifts the conversation, started as a risk.

If producers only operate from a place of safety, then theatre becomes static — it stops reflecting the world as it is now and starts repeating what’s already been done.

Is it viable to put on a show where the return of investment is not a priority?

Viable? Not always in a commercial sense. Necessary? Absolutely.

Not every piece of work should be judged by its financial return. Some shows exist to provoke, to challenge, to discover something new. Those shows might not make money, but they create value in other ways they develop artists, they shift perspectives, and they lay the groundwork for future work that will sustain the industry.

If everything is driven purely by profit, then you lose the soul of it.

What other initiatives could be taken to support the work of emerging talent?

We need more than just platforms, we need pathways. That means longer-term investment, not just one-off opportunities. Mentorship, residencies, paid development time, access to networks. These things are just as important as getting a show on.

And crucially, we need to remove some of the financial barriers. Too many artists are self-funding their early work, which immediately limits who gets to participate. If we’re serious about diversity and inclusion, we have to address that.

What can you tell us about this new season of Starting Blocks?

What excites me about Starting Blocks is that it’s not just about showcasing work is the process. It’s about catching artists at that point where things are still forming, still a bit rough, still alive.

That’s where the most interesting work happens. You’re seeing ideas in motion, not finished products. And there’s something really powerful about being in the room for that — you feel like you’re part of the journey, not just the end result.

Are you planning on running any new initiatives through CPT’s new-talent programme?

That’s definitely something I’m interested in exploring. For me, it’s about how we create continuity. How do we support an artist beyond that first opportunity?

I’d love to look at ways of bridging that gap between emerging and established whether that’s through mentorship, creative labs, or even just creating spaces where artists can develop work without the immediate pressure of production. It’s early conversations, but the intention is there.

Why come to Starting Blocks and Camden People’s Theatre?

Because this is where you see the future. If you want polished, finished and safe, there are plenty of places for that. But if you want to feel something new, to discover voices before the rest of the industry catches on, and to be surprised, this is the space.

Upcoming shows and initiatives at Camden People’s Theatre are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara