Interview: In conversation with Becky Harrison – Writer, Director, and Star of Punkswats and Being Lonely

Words by Lucas Assagba / Transcript by Lucas Assagba / Edited by Mia Stapleton

Lucas Assagba interviews Becky Harrison ahead of their debut performance of Punkswats and Being Lonely.

On a chilly autumn afternoon, I sat down in Hyde Park Book Club with Becky Harrison, a couple of weeks before their December 5^th performance of Punkswats and Being Lonely. After we each spilled our drinks on the table, we chatted about everything, from papier-mâché heads and Northern culture, to falling in love with Deliveroo drivers. 

Lucas Assagba: I’m here with Becky Harrison, director of Punkswats and Being Lonely, how are we feeling Rebecca? 

Becky Harrison: Good! Cold and miserable, but trying not to be.  

So, you debuted the show at Edinburgh Fringe in August, what was the reception like? 

Really good! Everyone that left was surprisingly nice about it, and had good things to say, which was nice because it’s such an honest show; it’s just me on stage for like an hour, reading my poems and being silly. 

You say surprisingly great, did you not think it went well? Are you critical of yourself? 

I feel like there’s an underlying confidence, but it was all put together in a bit of a shambles. I think good work happens when you do that, because when you think about things too much, you fill in the blanks a bit too much. It’s nice to have gaps. 

Is there anything you’ve changed this time around? 

Yeah, because, hopefully, the audience is going to be much bigger this time. I think it’s going to be a longer show because of that, there’s going to be more audience stuff. I’m going to play up the comedy a bit. I did The Lovely Boys the other day, and that was the first time I performed where it was like, ‘Just comedy. No feelings, nothing mushy, the purpose is literally just laughter.’ 

You debuted Asides from the Elbow in Leeds last year with Open Theatre, why did you choose to go solo this time? 

Well, I’m not a student! I could’ve got some funding together, or applied to some theatre company, but I wanted to do a show to see if I could, just an hour of me on a stage, because I’m not used to it; I’ve only acted once before. I wanted there to be a lot of moveability with whatever I was making. I don’t think I would’ve had that freedom with a new production company. I probably would’ve made more money, and more people would’ve seen it, but I wouldn’t have figured it all out that way. 

It’s all about the integrity, right? 

Yeah!

Rebecca’s directorial debut, Asides from the Elbow, was also shown at Edinburgh Fringe Festival. You can read our first interview with Rebecca here: Rebecca Harrison Asides From The Elbow.

Do you find it to be more natural and personal because you’re doing it yourself? 

I think so, it’s a lot of fucking admin though, which I’d love to not have to do, but it’s all just a part of the job. With Open Theatre, it was like, ‘We like the play, write the play, direct the play…” They were there to do all the admin stuff. It’s nice to not have to deal with that, because that is where a lot of the stress comes from.  

Are you improvising more in rehearsals? 

I don’t really rehearse, I write it, think about it, and just do it. I can’t rehearse alone; I need someone else in the room. There’s also a big papier-mâché head, so I need to close the curtains otherwise people would see me dancing alone in my room with it on my head, I think they’d be a bit scared! 

I read some reviews from Fringe; I’m hearing a lot about this papier-mâché head. Tell me about that! 

Dr Sigfried Lovecheese is his name. The show’s all about identity, and what it means to be an individual in this neoliberal era, and how maybe we shouldn’t strive for individuality because it’s quite alienating. It’s quite ironic, because it’s just me on a stage, but I thought it’d be fun to have a therapist figure. I wanted it to be a vehicle to talk about philosophy and psychology without it being boring. I wrote a whole monologue for him, but then I got to Fringe, and five minutes before the show I realised that the microphone would feedback any time it went near the head, so I ended up having to make him mute. I watched a clown, Paul Curry, do a completely non-verbal show for a whole hour, so I was like ‘Oh, okay! I don’t need to speak! We’ll do a dance; we’ll make it different!’ I don’t really know why I wanted to make a big head. I watched Frank, a movie about a band with Michael Fassbender, and this guy sings in a papier-mâché head, and his whole thing is that he never took it off. I guess that’s where it came from! 

Have your inspirations adapted with this shift towards solo shows? 

Yeah, now inspiration is everything, which is kind of annoying. I was in the pub last night, and I said something that made my friend laugh, I was like ‘Sorry, I’ve got to write that down, that has to be a poem.’ 

You’ve talked about the importance of the Gen Z experience in your work, but I find it difficult to keep up with Gen Z culture. How do you balance perfecting your delivery, and keeping up with the times to make sure your references aren’t outdated? 

I don’t really reference things, I’m so out of the loop. I find that people into journalism see the world as a river, and they’re on top of the current, floating along. I’m a pebble on the bottom, letting it all wash over me. I don’t know any memes or anything, it’s more observational stuff. The first poem I do is about having a crush on a Deliveroo guy. 

You graduated from the University of Leeds last year, what have you been up to since? 

I’ve started doing freelance art, and I also work as an online tutor. Hopefully doing art gets me some more money, but I’m happy where I am now. 

Yeah, art is a very difficult industry to get into. 

It is, and everyone expects you to do things for free all the time. People say, ‘you should be grateful you get to do this,’ but they’re in such a privileged position. 

I’m seeing a big wave of independent artists right now, which is nice because of the creative control, but you’re not making much money. 

Yeah, and you can do it for the love of it, but there’s a lot of work that goes into it, and it would be so nice to get paid. When you go into freelance stuff, you have such a crisis about what to ask people for, in terms of pay, because you just don’t know! You’ve got the creative experience, but you don’t know anything about money or invoices. You don’t want to be cheeky; it’s seen as the worst thing in the world to be cheeky. 

It feels like Northern England is becoming more of a hub for creativity. What do you like about being a creative in the North, and in Leeds specifically? 

Leeds is great, it’s the perfect size for building a network of people. Being able to afford to live is quite nice too! Everything is super easy to reach, like [Hyde Park Book Club]; being able to put on events here is convenient. The North is nice because my family are from here, but I didn’t grow up here, so it’s nice re-establishing a sense of connection and community. There’s something sparkly about London, but it’s just not realistic, not that this is settling! It’s all about choosing wellbeing above all else. 

Is community something you value when creating your art? 

Absolutely, that’s what the show’s about really. 

Yeah, since the pandemic, I’m seeing a lot more discussion of solitude. Has that experience informed Punkswats? 

Quite a lot. I went through some big changes during the pandemic, and I know everyone did, but that was the first time where my barriers were really broken down, and I really had to ask for help. I’d been through things before, but I’d been really callous about it; suddenly, I was like ‘Oh, I understand everyone’s emotions now!’  

You actually had to deal with your thoughts. 

Yes! It really opened my emotional world up. I’m trying to get back to where I was before because they were a lot…braver? It’s about trying to bring the softness to that and combine the two. 

Yeah, finding the balance between regaining your confidence and keeping your development. 

Exactly, and the kindness as well, I wasn’t as kind before.  

Are there any venues in Leeds you love, or ones that inspire you? 

I love Wharf Chambers. The way they run stuff there is so nice. I’d love to do Punkswats there, I think it’d fit. Here is great too, it feels very trendy.  

Since graduating, you’ve started making books too. How did you get into that? 

Oh, my goodness. There’s a man on YouTube, I want to gatekeep him, but he is my life coach. He makes videos on the right way to do things. He did a video on how to bind a book and I was like, ‘Yeah, I’ll give that a try.’ It is so fun, very relaxing. 

Is that something you’d extend to a business? 

I’ve got a couple commissions, yeah! It’s not the kind of thing I’d want to churn out. It wouldn’t be fun to have to do it. 

You also assistant directed Edward II for the York Shakespeare Project, how did you get into that? 

I went for director, but I didn’t have much experience, so I said, ‘Okay, that’s fine, I’ll assistant direct!’ It was great, the community theatre scene in York is great. I haven’t really found stuff like that in Leeds yet. 

At this point in the interview, Becky spilled their coffee on the table again. However, they’d like it to be known that they cleaned it up and got the napkin into the bin on the first try. Back to it! 

Do you think gender identity informs the conversation about individuality in this show? 

It’s weird because I don’t really talk about it that much. When I started making show, I’d only just started to use they/them pronouns, but I’ve been sitting with it for a while now. I’m very lucky to be around people who use they/them without questioning it, it feels like a little gift every time! [Punkswats] is definitely informed by the decision to perform, or not perform gender, and about the insecurity about asking somebody to refer to you properly. 

It feels cheeky, doesn’t it? 

Yeah, it’s cheeky! 

Was it daunting finding work after university? 

Yeah, oh god, I’m still applying for jobs. Having a big corporate gig isn’t what I want, but I feel like I’m unsuccessful if I don’t have that? Any time one of my friends gets a job in the council, or in a company, it’s like, amazing, but I’m like, ‘How did you manage that?!’ They say, ‘I did this and that at uni for experience.’ And I start thinking I should’ve done more, but I didn’t want to! I was doing poetry night instead of theatre, but that’s what uni is all about. 

It’s about goofing off! 

Exactly, and that’s what December 5^th is all about! 

What did you study at university? 

English. 

Did you do that with the intention of going into performing arts? 

No, I hadn’t settled on that until third year. I always loved writing and performing, but I was too shy. 

Was there a specific incident that brought you out of your shell? 

I think I was jealous of people who performed in my plays; I thought I had to do [writing and directing] first to earn my place on the stage? My first acting gig was in December 2021, when my friend George Manson wrote something for Look Sharp, a Leeds based theatre company. I remember getting such a high from it, and thinking, ‘Oh! I can make people laugh!’ 

Do you have any advice for students looking to get into performing arts after university? 

Do a lot of extra-curriculars and internships. Also, don’t be ashamed for going home if you need to! Most people don’t like it, but there’s no shame in it at all. 

(Image Credits: Instagram / Edinburgh Fringe Festival – Sourced by Lucas Assagba)