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Aputheatre Aputheatre began life as the Aids Positive Underground Theatre Company at the Sussex AIDS Centre and Helpline, and was founded by John Roman Baker and Rod Evan to provide a cultural response to the HIV and AIDS epidemic. The company was quick to establish a reputation for hard-hitting queer drama and as a result controversy often accompanied the company's performances. Surprisingly, there was even opposition at the Sussex AIDS Centre and Helpline, which at the time was attempting a mainstream reinvention to secure funding and considered the work too gay and controversial. Crying Celibate Tears was first performed at the Sussex AIDS Centre and Helpline on the 22 May 1989 as part of the Brighton Fringe Festival, and was the only Aputheatre play to be staged there. It was directed by Geoffrey Coleman, and had the following cast – Eric – Andrew St. John David – Tom Sharpstone Jeff – Nigel Greenhalgh Keith - Graham White Aside - Geoffrey Coleman was a regular customer of mine at the time and two Gardners Café chairs were borrowed to dress the set. The Ice Pick was first performed on 21 May 1990 at the Marlborough Theatre as part of the Brighton Festival. The production was awarded the Zap Award for best theatre jointly with the Satyricon Theatre of Moscow. It was directed by Robert Snell, and had the following cast – Michael – Mark Laville Peter – Nigel Fairs Michael’s father – Ted Dawson Adam – Stephen Israel Tim – Stephen Israel Eric – Stephen Israel Man at party – Ted Dawson Freedom to Party was first performed on 14 May 1991 at the Marlborough Theatre as part of the Brighton Festival. The play was directed by Paul Hodson and had the following cast. Mark – Clive Perrott Simon – Nick Miles Alex – Dino G Houtas Paul - Simon Casson The three plays gained national and international recognition when they were performed, and in 1992 they were presented together for the first time as part of Brighton Lesbian & Gay Pride and the Brighton Festival. ‘Men behave with both courage and barbarism during a war. AIDS is the war of the recent past, present and future. If AIDS is a war, then Brighton is a town on the frontline with the highest incidence of HIV and AIDS outside of London. In human terms that amounts to widespread physical and emotional devastation. Our gay community continues to be the hardest hit of all, and our fight is not only against the virus but also against the day-to-day fascism of prejudice and complacency. We must be alert to those around us who are experiencing distress because of our avoidance of AIDS. This can be in the workplace where people are discriminated against because of their HIV status, but equally in our bars, clubs and social environment. But above all we must be vigilant against the prejudice within ourselves.’ – John Roman Baker, 1992. ‘A significant breakthrough in AIDS theatre’ – Plays & Players, 1989 (Crying Celibate Tears). ‘Guaranteed to outrage the bigots! – Derek Jarman, 1991 (The Ice Pick). ‘Takes the audience into uncharted emotional territory’ – New Statesman & Society, 1991 (The Ice Pick). -
A collaborative intergenerational film project in which members of Allsorts LGBTQ+ youth group exchange questions with older members of Brighton's LGBTQ+ community. Supported by National Lottery Heritage Fund -
Argus - What’s On - 30th May 2008 Dynamite Boogaloo @ Arc This was the relaunch of Dynamite Boogaloo at the Arc. We moved on from Audio where a combination of smoking ban, credit crunch and change in licensing laws meant our attendances took an absolute hammering. We struggled on for about a year at the Arc and then gave up. I was ready for a change anyway - so didn’t mind too much. The photo of Dolly Rocket was taken by by Russ Bell at the monthly Dynamite Boogaloo Saturday Seaside Special at Komedia. -
Arrivals + Departures Wednesday 5 May 2021 Artists Yara and Davina create ambitious public artworks that respond to site, context and audience. Their inventive, issue-based work is wide ranging, and uses a lightness of touch that make their works both poetic and universal. Arrivals + Departures invites the public to share the names of those who have arrived and departed on live boards, to acknowledge, celebrate and commemorate. On Wednesday 5 May 2021 Yara and Davina invited me to ‘takeover’ the boards of their Brighton International Festival exhibit in Pavilion Gardens to commemorate the lives of those who died from an AIDS-related illness in Brighton & Hove. It was an honour & a pleasure to be invited to be a part of this wonderful public artwork exploring birth, death, and the journey in between. ‘In the roaring waters, I hear the voices of dead friends Love is life that lasts forever My hearts memory turns to you...’ Andrea Philippe Regard Arrival - 16 March 1965 / Departure - 13 May 1991 Graham Charles Wilkinson Arrival - 08 December 1949 / Died 22 August 1990 (London Lighthouse) David Andrew Jones ‘Cooch’ Arrival - 17 July 1962 / Departure - 18 October 1999 Gary Beverly Arrival - 26 September 1956 / Departure - 23 June 1993 Father Marcus Riggs Arrival -1955 / Departure - 10 July 1998 Clive Bentley Arrival - 07 August 1961 / Departure - 17 August 1994 Kevin John Dodd Arrival - 21 May 1962 / Departure - February 1992 The quoted text comes from the film ‘Blue’ by Derek Jarman. -
Arthur Law’s Star Quilt is seen here on the start of the Brighton Lesbian and Gay Pride march in 1992. Arthur was one of the Pink Parasol committee responsible for organising the event. As well as being a fearless and committed activist, Arthur was a brilliant designer and a gifted sewer. He also made the Fighting AIDS Brighton banner for Our House Body Positive, which can be seen here displayed on Queens Park railings at the Pink Picnic in 1993. Arthur died on the 17 May 2018 Thanks to Avee Isofa Holmes & www.wildbloodandqueenie.com for use of the images -
The picture shows Queer activist Arthur Law (21 May 1959 – 17 May 2018) with the panel he made for the National AIDS Memorial Quilt in 1991. There are 133 stars depicted, and each one represents a life lost to AIDS in Brighton. It was displayed alongside other quilts at the Corn Exchange in June 1993 but its whereabouts are now unknown. If you have any information that can help with its location please get in touch. -
Assorted Badges 1. 'Dyke' circular badge 'Reclaim the Night' protest circular badge 'Every Woman Can Be Lesbian' circular badge 'Lesbian Liberation' circular badge Assorted Badges 2. 'Womens Conference 1978' Badge 'Gay Pride 1979' Badge 'Stonewall 20 Generation of Pride' (1989) Badge 'Lesbian & Gay Pride 1987' Badge 'Lesbian & Gay Pride 1988' Badge 'Lesbian & Gay Pride 1989' Badge 'National Lesbian Conference 1981' badge 'Lesbian Strength 1985' axe logo, purple badge 'Lesbian Strength 1986' weightlifter badge 'Lesbian Strength' black and white, axe logo, badge -
Boogaloo Stu describes some of the items he has deposited in the archive, from club nights, to live music, to fashion, these are just some of the pivotal moment's of Stu's career. -
Badge reading: Yes I'm homosexual too -
Long ago, when dinosaurs danced to Motown and disco…when discrimination of all kinds was perfectly legal, nobody was listening to us. We had (still do) plenty to say We wanted (still do) to change the world completely. For starters, yes, we wanted equality, but we were dreaming of much more. On top of that there was – sharp intake of breath, oh the shock! – no such thing as social media. No one had profiles, timelines, accounts. So if you wanted to organise a protest or direct action you called the first woman on the telephone tree who then passed the information on to three others who did the same in turn & so on. I say woman because it was mainly women I was involved with, but of course other groups were doing similar things. In the absence of social media, your body, your clothes became your profile statement. Badges, visible on a coat, jacket, jumper defined your tribe, who you were, what you believed in. (T shirts with slogans came later and did the same.) As well as asserting identity, badges were a way of confronting/questioning society (for instance badges that said things like How dare you presume I’m heterosexual? or No to male violence!). There was humour too. As well as wearing badges we fly-posted, scrawled graffiti and defaced billboards subverting capitalist, sexist advertising. One badge for example beautifully reproduced the Coca Cola logo and phrasing to say: Gay love it’s the real thing. Badges were also a way of communicating to like-minded travellers. Two, sometimes three, women's symbols linked together told other women you were a lesbian (or bisexual and/or feminist but certainly open to sisters doing it for themselves). The double-headed axe or labrys, (originally found in Crete, representing Amazons in Greek mythology), was another symbol lesbian feminists could recognise each other by. It worked as code since not everyone knew what it meant. Not all badges were political or feminist. People wore school badges ironically, Captain, Prefect, 1st VII Netball etc. There was a whole cottage industry of badge making. (Along with home-made ones.) Bands promoted their music by producing badges. Deb, my partner, who has always been really cool, has several obscure band badges in her collection. The risks you took wearing your badge/s depended on where you lived. When I visited Poland in the 1980’s I was a lot less brave than when I was walking round Brighton, (or Islington and Hackney). Communism still held Poland in its grip and even forming a women's group was prohibited, (after all there was the Party-run League of Women; anything else was outlawed). Polish Pride badges didn’t come till much, much later. But in the late 1980’s I got given a badge that said Kino Kobiet (Cinema of Women/Women’s Cinema) which I proudly wore in the UK to celebrate my (often invisible) Polishness. I’ll finish this post by telling you a bit more about some badges in my collection which resonate personally for me: I Love Sober Dykes was brought over from the States and given to me by a girlfriend. Alcohol had been a big part of my life. I loved drinking! When I was first coming out it felt scary as hell to acknowledge lesbian feelings. I needed a lot of alcohol in order to approach women I liked or fancied. Also many political meetings took place or ended up in pubs. But in my late twenties I started having some health issues which made me decide to stop drinking. It was very validating to be given this badge. I’d had no idea there might be other women giving up alcohol too and that not drinking could be seen as cool. There has always been that tension between wanting wide and inclusive community (like the present umbrella alphabet of our LGBT+ identities) and wanting to break away to articulate the needs and interests of a particular group. For example now in addition to Pride celebrations there’s Black Pride, more recently Trans Pride. Back in 1977 women who'd been involved with Gay Switchboard and the befriending organisation Icebreakers felt that women's needs weren't being met by those phonelines and decided to set up a separate organisation, Lesbian Line. I went along to their first meeting and joined up. It was an exciting and affirming time, which included Lesbian Strength marches which began in the early 1980’s. We started Lesbian Line in London and then one was also set up in Brighton in the 1980’s. Socials were held in various locations including the Women’s Centre then in St. George’s Street, also in Boyce’s St, off West St. When I moved back to Brighton, I was no longer volunteering for Lesbian Line but enjoyed going to its friendly socials at The Only Alternative Left, a women’s B&B and bar in St. Aubyn’s, Hove run by Monica Crowe. It was a great way of meeting other women. Does Yes I'm homosexual too seem quaint or funny now? At the time I wore that badge (early 1970’s) ‘homosexual’ was a creepy, clinical, already then, old-fashioned word. The sort of word that came up in medical journals discussing our ‘pathology’. You have to remember that until 1973 homosexuality was classed as a mental illness, then as a ‘sexual orientation disturbance’ – and what that carried with it in terms of appalling, demeaning, cruel psychiatric practices… (‘Queer’ at that time was also used very negatively. Both words suggested older men to me, and being older then was considered (still is) pretty unwelcome.) People mistakenly thought ‘homo’ meant man too, whereas in ‘homosexual’ it means same. But also gayness, generally, was seen as something that men did. Women's sexuality, desire - unless obediently heterosexual (today we’d say heteronormative) was hugely invisible. So this badge was a playful flip of the word ‘homosexual’. It was an expression for me not only of solidarity with my gay brothers but a way of simply saying that women could love other women. There are lots more badges I could tell you about, but I’ll just mention one more, last but not least, Gays Against Fascism (circulated in the late 70’s, early 80’s). This badge felt problematic for the reasons I've just mentioned that although some of us used the words ‘lesbian’ and ‘gay’ interchangeably we also felt that as an umbrella word ‘gay’ didn’t make women visible or visible enough. But it was a badge which had (still has) a strong emotional charge for me as well. The image on it is the pink triangle which the Nazis made ‘male homosexuals’, as they would have been known, wear in concentration camps. Later on badges - and jewellery - were also made with the black triangle, which was what women deemed socially deviant, including prostitutes and lesbians, were forced to wear. I can't stress enough how important it felt to me (still does) to link every struggle for what today are called queer rights with wider struggles – whether we were supporting the miners’ strike, fighting for women’s reproductive rights, fighting for disability rights, for the environment or fighting against racism, fighting fascism. -
I was working as a lifeguard for Brighton beach on Pride 2024 to save the gays from drowning. The night before I stayed up until 1am cutting up my uniform and sewing together a pride uniform to wear on top of the lifeguard tower opposite St James street party. This was also a celebration of my first pride in Brighton, and during my lunch break I ran through the streets to catch the last of the parade, joined hand in hand by my lunch break date. -
I met Benjie at the care home I was working at on Sillwood Street when he was about 18 years old. He apparently came from a good family in Jamaica and wanted to study to be a vet, but because of his drug problem he’d ended up in the care home. I didn’t see him again for many years until he walked into the Sussex AIDS Centre and Helpline on Cavendish Street announcing his presence with ‘hello pea pod’ when he saw me. It turned out he was also living in the same block as me at Tyson Place! I started training to be a volunteer at the Sussex AIDS Centre when it was based in just one room near London Road. Years later when Princess Diana officially opened the place on the 12th of July 1990, Benjie was there too. When he said ‘how's Charlie boy then’ to her I nearly died, but she took it all in her stride and smiled. When Our House Body Positive was up and running, I organised a trip to Arundel Castle. There were eight of us with my dear friend James Etheridge driving. Benjie asked me if we could go to the Castle café for some hot chocolate. When I turned my head at the counter, I saw Benjie tipping sugar sachets into his hippy bag, and I was horrified. He just grinned and said, ‘we've paid for them.’ He was so beautifully dressed that day in an Edwardian green velvet frock jacket with lacy cuffs and black trousers tucked into high leather boots. One Christmas Eve (his last) I came home at 1 in the morning to be greeted by four fire engines. Thick smoke was billowing from his bedsit and the fire was so bad they had sealed off the entire 3rd floor. I think Benjie stayed at the hospital that night. He came back in the morning and asked me to go upstairs because he thought his cat was still in the flat, but I couldn't find it, or any remains. The fire started because he’d been drinking with a friend and using drugs by candlelight because they’d run out of electricity. Benjie was rehoused, but he sadly passed away the following Easter after a three-day Methadone binge. It was an electric heater that caused a blaze this time, and he died in hospital soon after from smoke inhalation. Words by Avee Tsofa Holmes -
Bi Curious George and Other Sidekicks -
Brown cardboard with the worlds 'BLACK TRANS LIVES MATTER' written in black bubble writing -
Worn blue and orange crocodile dog toy
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