Following a critically-acclaimed run at Brixton House in London, Black Power Desk took to the Quays Theatre of The Lowry for a three-night run between 16 – 18th October. The musical, set in 1970s London, follows two sisters and a group of friends at the heart of the British Black Power Movement facing police investigation; a story of resistance, heartbreak, and love unfolds over the two-hour run time.
The majority of Black Power Desk takes place at The Drum, a café-restaurant-bar where local British Black Power Movement meetings are held, owned by Carlton (Gerel Falconer) and his wife Maya (Chanté Faucher). It is at The Drum where we watch the relationship between Celia (Rochelle Rose) and Dina (Veronica Carabai) deteriorate as they are driven apart by their differing priorities and Dina’s relationship with Jarvis (Alexander Bellinfantie).
It is here that we watch Dina and Colin (Fahad Shaft) fight over the leadership of their local movement, as well as watch their friends and family face police violence and institutional racism when The Drum is raided for the group’s alleged illegal activity.
The second act narrows the focus of the story as we watch a trial against Dina, and other members of the movement, unfold.
Accused of inciting violence that was in reality started by Colin’s fringe group at the urging of the police, Dina steps in to defend herself while simultaneously dealing with the distance growing between her and Celia. A drama that begins to feel like it took on too many dramatic storylines at once as we near the interval, comes into clear focus in the second act.
The balance of political and legal tension is well-contrasted with the more personal scenes as we travel back and forth between courtroom raps (full of energy and momentum) and quiet scenes between Celia and Dina, Dina and Maya, and Celia and Jarvis. A clear picture is painted of the way that the police force’s brutal approach violates not only the Black community’s civic rights, but their livelihoods, homes, and even their intimate relationships.
It’s a moving and heartfelt tribute to a close-knit community fighting against violent oppression, in particular the insidious Black Power Desk: an initiative launched by the Metropolitan Police to infiltrate the Black Power movement.
Officers would work undercover; at times – as shown in the play – unlawfully forming intimate relationships with unknowing members of the movement, to undermine and sabotage their campaign for equal rights. As explained by writer Urielle Klein-Mekongo, it’s an underexplored area of British history: our education on the civil rights movement is focused on America, and it is only now, with productions like this and the Steve McQueen’s recent series Small Axe on the BBC, that we’re seeing it be explored more fully.
The highlight of the musical is undoubtedly the soundtrack, which brings to life the story through RnB, Soul, Reggae, and Ska developed by Renell Shaw (The Crucible, Othello) and Gerel Falconer (Tones A Hip-Hop Opera). Whilst the ensemble musical numbers (such as the eponymous ‘Black Power Desk’ performed by Colin, Jarvis, and Carlton, and ‘Because I’m a Woman’ performed by Dina, Celia, and Maya), are brilliantly powerful and entertaining in their own right, it is the solo performances that stand-out in Black Power Desk.
Celia’s solo at the start of the first act is a notable highlight — a tear-jerking performance that sets the tone for the rest of Celia’s heart-breaking story. Rochelle Rose’s voice is enough to give anyone goosebumps when given the chance to, and even manages to elevate weaker numbers like her romantic duet with Jack (Tomos Eames); a tongue-in-cheek moment of sappy infatuation that is a little too on-the-nose to be free from second-hand embarrassment.
Where Black Power Desk sometimes fell short was with the dialogue, which at times lacked the nuance that makes visual media so beautiful — it is often what is not said that is the most powerful. As though they had little faith in the audience’s inference capabilities, the writers slipped in occasional lines to add context, which instead made the dialogue seem somewhat elementary.
Unfortunately, this seemed to be most prevalent in the emotional and heartfelt moments of Black Power Desk, which diminished their power; whilst these scenes were incredibly important to ensure that each character had their own individual identity and storyline, the weakness of the dialogue in these scenes often made them boring. In this sense, the dialogue failed to do the characters justice.
In regards to the larger picture, however, Black Power Desk is anything but a failure. It feels particularly timely to be giving tribute to a community told time and time again that they were not “British” enough, who endured immense discrimination and oppression, and have long been owed recognition as a hugely important social and cultural influence on modern Britain.
Now more than ever, it is important to learn the lessons of the past, and to remember the necessary values of equality and advocacy.
