TRAPLORD | ROADNAISSANCE
Walking into the dark room in which ‘Traplord’ is set is like stepping into the unknown. The audience is welcomed into the BLOK dance space without any lights on, and is led into what can only be described as a giant cage. There, one patiently awaits for the show to begin, lined up along the walls in the dark…
Article Alice Tchernookova | Photography Shokirie Clarke
After a few moments, lights start flashing around the ‘cage’, and it suddenly hits you: a role reversal has occurred. You are not the one watching – but the one being watched, as the nine performers that make up the cast – Brnsright, Stefano Addae, Kyron Jake, Warren Gordon-Powell, Renkah, Underwaterkash, Chaldon Williams, Kofi Mingo, Magero – walk around, torches in hand, randomly flashing their lights at audience members.
The whole experience creates an uncanny atmosphere, where seemingly anything can happen and one isn’t quite sure where to look.
The performance then begins in earnest, as the artists get into a formation on the other side of the cage (as if behind a blurred screen – the screen of the mind?) and start dancing, acting, rapping. The striking thing about Traplord, is the rawness and immediacy of the performance: there is no such thing as a “stage” here. The cast simply walks around the room among audience members, who in turn are free to decide whether or not they want to follow along.
Mixing spoken word, movement and music, Traplord navigates the themes of masculinity, mental health and racial stereotypes – all with a gripping sense of realism. All barriers are broken: the proximity of every single performer makes you experience their feelings and emotions first-hand – almost as if you could hear the voices in their head.
This is one of the key themes explored in the show: how to keep going when the demons in your mind are possessing you, talking to you, trying to drag you down. This inner dialogue is so authentically conveyed by Stefano Addae in one of the first scenes, when he creeps around the room – hissing and contorting his face as he responds to what looks like internal torture. One could almost envision Gollum from Lord of the Rings – eternally battling between his good and bad side, and eventually losing out to the bad.
This motive is further reinforced by the appearance of a pig’s head at some point during the show: a reference to Lord of the Flies, in which it represents the embodiment of evil, and the dark impulses of humanity. In the book, one of the characters understands that the “beast” (the pig’s head) cannot be killed, as it is inherent to human beings.
Another striking moment is when show creator and choreographer Ivan Blackstock performs in front of a mirror, facing his own reflection – a moment that so clearly evokes the daily struggles that artists confront with their self-image and self-esteem.
But the pinnacle of the performance – and one which most definitely brought me to tears – is the moment when spoken word artist Magero delivers a monologue, reflecting on Black male identity. He is surrounded by four other performers, who at that stage are all topless, flexing their muscles – further playing into the stereotypes commonly associated with the image of the “Black man” in the Western world. He utters words such as “Play your role, nigga”; “No pain”; “Shut the fuck up”; “Get the fuck up”; “Keep going”… All as violent and pressuring as one another.
We clearly understand what’s happening here: this is a young Black man pressured into staying strong, unshakeable, unbreakable… Who must weather societal pressures and expectations no matter what. He intermittently falls, but gets picked up by his fellow performers – which seems to depict the internal struggles he’s enduring, and is also a metaphor for the fact that no matter how many times life knocks you down – you are always expected to get back up. No space for sensitivity or weakness here: you are a “strong Black male”, and have to behave like so – relentlessly.
The character finally finds relief when a white-winged angel comes and takes him by the hand to lead him out of the room. We are then left wondering: is he dead? Is death therefore the ultimate liberation and only remedy to one’s pain and suffering? Or – is this a message of hope, and is there a path leading towards some form of rebirth?
This will be for the audience to decide.
