Tristan Fynn-Aiduenu, 25, is a playwright, director and actor. He grew up in south London, studied English and drama at Roehampton University, and completed an MA in writing for the stage at the Royal Central School of Drama, London. Fynn-Aiduenu won the 2019 JMK award for emerging directors, and directs Arinzé Kene’s 2011 play Little Baby Jesus, which is at the Orange Tree theatre, Richmond, until 16 November.
You’ve said that Arinzé Kene’s Little Baby Jesus changed your life?
It was one of the first plays I saw – I was 16 at the time – and the first that spoke in a language that was akin to what I heard in the playground, but mixed in with the poetry and imagination we’d hear in English. I was like: “Oh my days, there’s someone out there that’s willing to listen to a story how I would say it in my head.” And because the characters were relatable, it made me look at my peers differently: I realised, we all have stories that deserve to be told.
Can you tell us about the play?
It’s a storytelling triptych, of three teenagers relaying to us the times they grew up in. I don’t understand why it hasn’t been more done – the themes are so universal. We need to start archiving the way we speak in London, especially MLE [multicultural London English, a social dialect]. It came at a time of resurgence of this poetic, narrative structure for young playwrights: after this came Chewing Gum Dreams by Michaela Coel [in 2014]. And Sabrina Mahfouz started popping up. It was a renaissance of this kind of style, which should be cherished, because it gives people you wouldn’t expect a voice. This play should be on the GCSE syllabus!
How closely have you been working with Arinzé Kene?
He’s been very connected to the piece, but he’s not put a hand on and said “I do want this” or “I don’t want that”. He’s very open to me just trying out different things.
How important are awards like the JMK award?
Incredibly important. Because it gives me money! Let’s be real – as much as it gives me kudos and standing, it also gives me actual money to put on an actual production to professional standard.
You wrote the 2018 play Sweet Like Chocolate, Boy…
It’s about two black boys, one from present-day Britain and one from 90s Britain, looking at what it meant to be black British. And I mixed in all sorts of music – as it’s named after a garage song, I made sure the garage was flowing.
How important is music to you?
It’s another character in my work. The reason I chose [Shanks & Bigfoot’s 1999 track] Sweet Like Chocolate is because it’s my favourite song. But also the lyrics mean two things to me: number one, I am brilliant – to be black and British is a beautiful thing, even when it’s been hard. But it also made me realise that your identity can very much be consumed and devoured, to the point where you are seen as confectionery.
You’ve worked as an actor too. What prompted the move to directing?
I still love acting, but I feel so in control when I’m directing and writing – and I see the fruits of my labour.
It gives you more control over what narratives you tell, too. Do we still see stereotyped or limited roles for young black men?
I will never say to a black person “nobody needs to hear that story”, because it’s hard out here as it is. But you need to actually listen to a varied selection of black creatives, and give black people the keys to the building, and then you’ll see a varied selection of stories. But there’s also the question about whether people actually do want to hear them or they’re just running their mouth…
Are some people in charge of theatres just running their mouths?
Oh yes, absolutely. It’s a tick-box exercise right now. It’s a good way of getting some funding. I think we, as people, need to be better at sussing it out – and taking our money away from them.
Are we currently seeing a change in the people who get the keys?
Artistic directors diversifying is a fantastic thing. But it’s not enough. It’s about the executive producers as well – the people handling money, all facets of the industry.
What shows have you always wanted to stage?
I would love to do a play by Marcus Gardley. And I’d like to do more shows by black British writers across the regions. If Brexit’s taught us anything, it’s that we need to be looking outside of London.
