Lamesha Ruddock
“He gave me three children and he gave me Africa.”
Ma Joyce’s Tales from the Parlour is a warm, heartfelt invitation into one woman’s living room, a space heavy with memories, revelations, and the resilience it takes to tell the truth. Victoria Evaristo draws us into an evening after the party when the guests have gone and Ma Joyce is left to clean up, reminisce, and reckon with the people, places, and pains that have shaped her.
Born into a Catholic childhood in Wales, her story stretches across continents, from a whirlwind romance that began in 1962 at the Nigerian Social Club in Liverpool to years spent in Nigeria before returning home to raise children in Liverpool. We see her joy and pride alongside the ache of loneliness in a life so richly lived, and the question lingers of why, after so much love and history, she is left with only her stories.
Evaristo’s performance in Ma Joyce’s Tales from the Parlour is a masterclass in intimacy and range. She moves seamlessly from high-energy bursts of dance and laughter to the convincing aches of age. A simple rubbish bag becomes a vessel of family history, holding the treasures her grandparents passed to her mother after she married an African man. Recognisable imagery connects generations from a hot comb dragging through hair to years spent praying to a framed image of Pope Francis. Particularly, the examination of Catholicism’s moral authority and the shame and hypocrisy it carried is done with sharpness and compassion.
Dressed in a blue party hat and a pink floral two-piece, Ma Joyce moves through her memories with wit and bite. She throws shade at guests who failed to help clean, ribs her racist Irish friends, and reads her daughter for being plain as a child. Her ability to slip into the Nigerian cadence of her late husband Mani’s voice is nothing short of skillful. She jigs and jives, bears the brunt of casual racism and cultural appropriation, and sings sweetly in Yoruba.
There are moments that land like a punch. The slap and scuffle with Mani’s sister over the suggestion of a second wife, followed by her wry admission that she “wasn’t accustomed to the custom.” The repetition of “I know you’re Black today” paired with outdated language that reveals how internalised racism can trap even our elders. Her pride in “a daughter of mine at Durham University” is contrasted with her disappointment over not having grandchildren. She laments the world her Black sons had to navigate fighting “sus” laws and her anger. The revelation of her son’s tragic fate is devastating. Ma Joyce spent a lifetime forgiving and excusing unkindness to keep the peace, only for him to be taken before he could be forgiven.
Deborah Yhip’s direction allows Ma Joyce’s Tales from the Parlour to breathe. Evaristo’s layered character work and physicality are given the space they deserve, from a mere cigarette that signals her sister to a shift in voice that transports us across decades. The piece speaks to survival and the need to release what is withheld as what is spoken.
Ma Joyce’s Tales from the Parlour is rich in history bridging the political to the personal. Victoria Evaristo embodies responsibility, majesty, and truth-telling in a performance that is a refreshing straight-shooter.
You can catch Ma Joyce’s Tales from the Parlour until Saturday 23rd at Dunedin Theatre at Braw Venues @ Hill Street from 13:00 (60mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Jake Mace
