A Thing Called Joe

Billie Whitelaw in the UK premiere of Samuel Beckett’s Not I at the Royal Court Theatre in 1973. Not I calls for a mouth in a black void, disembodied and hovering high above the stage. Accordingly, Whitelaw is swathed and hooded in black fabric to hide her body. The rectangular objects on either side of her head are the ends of a sort of clamp to hold her head in place (Whitelaw said this prevented her getting the shakes). The wire leads to earpieces, so she could be prompted in the text if she got lost.

The strange outfit and apparatus in this photo would not have been visible to the audience, of course; all of its parts are either masking Whitelaw or keeping her oriented and still. Her lower face was covered with black makeup so that the mouth itself, lined in red, was the only visible part of her body, illuminated with a miniature spotlight. All elements of the physical and lighting design were executed by Jocelyn Herbert.

“Every night was like falling backwards into hell, there was no way round and it was awful. I still get dizzy just remembering the play and, in fact, the tension damaged my spine and I have had to see a neurologist ever since. I call it raging Beckettitis.” - Billie Whitelaw

I could see you were a tall, creepy monster,

16 years. 16 years of concealed tyranny, of an authocratic leader making the lives of all my compatriots' hell. of taking away rights, shaming and shunning the lgbtq community, of leading the country into economic depression, of intimidaton, of constant election frauds. it ends now.

the situation is still dire, the constitutional rights and polocies are still unclear, but this is a step towards a better a future. a sliver of hope for the hungarian people, where we can finally take a deep breath, celebrate and start to finally believe in a better country, and a better home.

i really hope that the time of always being on one's toes, of living with one foot in the country and the other abroad, of constantly worrying about having to leave the country because it's unlivable, especially as a young lesbian who would like to have a wife and kids someday with a job that pays more than what is needed for rent and food, is over.