Lamesha Ruddock
“We don’t know each other anymore.”
The return of Keisha after eighteen months away sparks a reckoning between siblings. What begins as an eager reunion with her brother Kumi blossoms into a gripping, emotionally charged confrontation about abandonment and the longing for their cultural inheritance.
Marble Cake is rooted in the West African principle of Sankofa, the call to “go back to fetch it,” as Keisha and Kumi navigate the knowledge and history their father has severed from them. They reclaim their truth from their own version of events, confronting the generational wounds that have shaped them building to a necessary, potent release.
Olivia Penhallow’s Keisha dons a striking yellow and black Ankara dress, embodying a woman newly embracing her Africanness with a grace and quiet conviction that captivates from the first moment. Opposite her, Nathaniel Allen’s Kumi meets her with a South London twang and guarded warmth, his every movement charged with vulnerability and charisma. The set, a black and white feathered sofa with beige pillows, a circle-framed photo of their white matriarch, a blue vase with yellow flowers, a side desk draped in cloth, a drinks cabinet with records, and a reflective suitcase, becomes a living metaphor for the dual heritage.
Music becomes the beating heart of their fractured relationship. Burna Boy’s beats coax Allen’s Kumi into Penhallow’s magnetic choreography, before they are swept into moments of childhood joy with Bob and Marcia’s Young, Gifted & Black. Lighting shifts from pink and blue to yellow and green infuse the stage with cultural pride, capturing the rare and intoxicating moments when the siblings are truly at ease.
But friendships between siblings are never that simple. The cracks widen as Penhallow’s Keisha, with quiet authority and a masterful command of stillness, interrogates like a therapist rather than a sister. Allen’s Kumi responds with a performance of astonishing emotional truth, demanding she remain long enough to witness his pain. When her plan to leave collides with his reality of having nowhere to run, the stakes soar.
One of the most searing moments in the production comes when Allen’s Kumi erupts physically to That’s Life under a moody blue wash of light. His kicks, punches, and guttural grunts escalate into a raw, almost unbearable crescendo until his body collapses, leaving the audience breathless at the sheer intensity.
Marble Cake also dares to explore colourism between siblings with clarity and understanding, laying bare the painful contrasts in how they have been treated compared to lighter-skinned peers. The sound design deepens the emotional undercurrent, with a recurring low rumble mirroring Kumi’s inner imbalance and the deep sensitivity to repeated abandonment that Allen interalises so exquisitely.
The final scene, a gentle embrace between Allen and Penhallow to Take Me to the River, is a masterstroke of restraint and tenderness. It does not erase eighteen months of silence, but it leaves the audience suspended in the possibility of healing. A deeply heartfelt conclusion that brought me to tears.
Marble Cake is a beautifully realised and emotionally intelligent drama that at its core navigates the feeling of missing out with humanity. A superb performance duo delivering remarkable depth and truth.
Marble Cake was at Space 2 at theSpace on the Mile from 14:15 (55mins). Tickets were available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Phoebe Bakker
Jake Mace
