The product of two very different cultures, neither of which he is familiar with, one half-Cypriot playwright brings his search for himself into his work. ALEXIA EVRIPIDOU meets him
Stephen Laughton is a love child, with a Greek Cypriot father and an English Jewish mother; the product of two divided cultures, both unknown to him. Stephen came into this world with questions bursting forth: Who am I? Where do I fit in? How do I be who I inherently am? “When you’re neither one thing nor another, you end up questioning constantly what you are. When you originate from a partition, can you ever really be whole?” he says. His quest for meaning and understanding has taken up much of the following 35 years, but now as he searches for understanding about identity and the inevitable consequences of human actions, he’s turned his hands to good use by offering back his human observations through his thought provoking plays.
Stephen was brought up English by his teenage mum Lorraine, with no connection to either his Cypriot or Jewish cultures. His father Chris, originally from Kyrenia, has been out of Stephen’s life for 30 years. He laughs heartily “Oh my mum is going to kill me! It’s a cheeky story actually, I believe that they were both married to other people at the time and I was a result of a torrid affair. It was a real love story.” Together they tried to make it work for the first five years of Stephen’s life but as so often, life had other plans. As he grew older, aware that he was different but without any knowledge of his history, his hunger for an identity grew, while Stephen turned to writing and did not give up until answers were unearthed.
“All my plays are about identity,” he says. Stephen explains that as we grow up, we pick up labels, adjectives to define ourselves. “My star sign is Cancer, I’m gay, I’ve grown up without knowing my father, and I’m from lower middle class to upper working class background. I’ve also got the labels of being a Jewish boy, I’m a Greek Cypriot, I’m a writer, I’m all of these things. As I grow and pick up all of these labels, they get bigger and bigger.” It was the disconnection between these labels that spurred Stephen to write and help understand his world more.
In an era when most bury their mouths in Cappuccinos and eyes vacantly in the refection of their five-inch-something screens; swiping left or right for love and connection, Stephen has discovered the secret of being and its about sitting comfortably in the middle of one’s own personal Venn diagram of the labels one accumulates in life. Sound complicated? It isn’t really, he explains.
He refers to a speech he wrote for Ayse’s character in his smash hit play Screens, a fierce and intelligent Turkish Cypriot girl who’s drowning in social media and commits a horrific assault as a result of an identity crisis. “Imagine a Venn diagram and all around are her labels, she’s a woman, Turkish Cypriot, Muslim, secular etc but in the middle is where all these circles (labels) meet, and that is who she really is.” Stephen apologises, gets up to open the door for his cat who’s insistently scratching the door to come in. He continues “she says the centre is me, if you take any one of these labels away, she loses something, the whole version of her falls down. So it’s basically taken me, Stephen until now to work this out about myself and others; that speech is how I feel now about identity.” The pressures of having to fit in a small, white, homogenised town meant Stephen taking his mother’s name and English mannerisms; he was exposed to neither Greek nor Jewish culture, speaks neither Greek nor Hebrew, yet the pull of his heritage is strong and he feels very Jewish Greek Cypriot, and with his refined looks and dark colouring looks it too.
At nine, he discovered that he was actually half Greek Cypriot and that who he thought was his father wasn’t actually his father. At 17 he realised he was gay, and a pretty non-stereotypical gay man at that. He was brought up in middle class Stourbridge, a small town in the British midlands and always felt that he never quite fitted in anywhere.
Although writing was the link that helped piece his life together, that did not occur till later. Having worked for years as a documentary producer in popular UK stations including BBC, Channel 4 and ITV, Stephen had enough of being overworked and unfulfilled and in 2010 took a life changing decision to move briefly to Australia to try his hand at writing. His first play Screens (written 2013) has recently completed its first run in London and was critically acclaimed, receiving glowing reviews from reputable reviewers including The Stage and LGBTQ Arts Review. It ran for three weeks in Battersea, London’s influential Theatre 503, famous for being one of the best theatres to discover new talent. “The platform it’s given me has been amazing. Film 4 and the Royal Court came. Film 4 has asked me for a script version of Screens, which is very exciting. I’d be interested to bring it to Cyprus too,” gushes Stephen, feeling a very strong link to his father’s island.
Screens is about Cyprus, and was Stephen’s way of learning about the lost culture he so longed to be part of. He explains that it’s witty and dramatic and draws on the rarely discussed (within the UK media) conflict in Cyprus as a backdrop to tackle the stigma infused topics of homophobia, discrimination, violence and loss of self among refugees from various partitioned communities. It’s based on a Turkish Cypriot family who make a discovery that has rippling effects down the family chain. The mother Emine comes to the UK from Kyrenia in around 1974 and has two kids, Ayse and Al. The play is about them finding out that she’s not actually Turkish but in fact Greek Cypriot and the identity crisis that comes with that. Lost during the troubles, Emine was found as a young child and put in the labour camp before a Turkish family took her in and brought her up.
The two siblings in Screens reflect two big parts of Stephen, Aysa is very emotional and troubled, often acting out, and Al is very logical, responsible and sensitive.
Stephen says his life long battle between logic and emotion would have driven him into a mess of a human being had he not channeled it into writing. “I have all these feelings and tendencies, I’m quite an intelligent guy, so there’s a logical part of my brain and a very emotional part of my brain and those two things don’t go together, they act against each other all the time.” The writing gives him the structure he needs for his logical part, as there’s something quite mathematical about it, he notes. There are frameworks you have to build and within that come the artistry, the passion, the relationships of the people and the words that they use; these all come from that heart part of him essentially. His play Run (about his Jewish roots) will be opening a festival and touring the UK next year and he’s also working with a very prominent theatre company for his new play 6EQUJ5, but mum’s the word for now.
6EQUJ5 explores both his Cypriot and Jewish cultures together. “What I’m really fascinated about is that both of the cultures I come from have partitions.” He believes strongly that we need to figure out that one identity we all share is being human and that ultimately, we are all the same. “We cannot live in these partitioned worlds. If you partition a nation, you partition a person and if a person is partitioned no good will come from that essentially.” Some may say that he could just accept it and leave it behind like so many others do, but he finds it fascinating. With a wealth of history he can draw on as a writer, he’s aware that the very fact that he was brought up not knowing his cultures meant that he could explore these huge histories without bias, cultural or religious interference and determine his own identity based on his past and present. But why is identity important to Stephen? “If you’re repressing who you are, your identity and how you feel about it, it’s going to come out somewhere else and it’s not good.”
Again, he links identity issues with other current issues such as the racism that has grown since Brexit. Even though Stephen wrote Screens in 2013, it’s taken till now to become relevant, because of Brexit. “All of the things I was talking about weren’t meshing in contemporary British society, it still felt a little over there to the British. Then with Brexit, all these issues about being an immigrant, being different etc which had been bubbling under the surface for years, suddenly became overt and made the play so relevant. Consequently Cyprus became the perfect place to talk about Britain.”
Jumping back to his Cypriot roots, Stephen recalls his paternal Greek Cypriot grandmother, who he didn’t know but he’s aware that his mum had briefly considered putting him up for adoption during the break up and his paternal grandmother had wanted to adopt him and introduce him to Cypriot culture.
However, she’d come on too strong, which prompted Lorraine to cut off contact with her too; she was young and scared. He now understands his grandmother’s urgency better. “I wanted to show in Screens, that you can have all these massive political situations where countries make decisions to invade or intervene in other’s politics and the results filter down into people’s domestic lives. So my personal story is completely connected to that. My Cypriot family has that sensitivity that British people take things away from them. They’ve had to move to another country to start again, they’ve probably had to deal with racial abuse in the streets, then when my grandmother saw her son getting involved with a British girl, that sensitivity that she already had filtered out.
“When I found out I was Cypriot suddenly things made sense, I could fill in the gaps.” He felt a sense of belonging and a deeper identity. Although he would love to meet his father again, he worries about affecting this father’s life and doesn’t want to upset him. He searched for his dad from the age of 18 to 30 but to little avail, the agencies he used now believe he may be in Cyprus. At age 30 (when he lost hope of finding his dad) he tattooed ‘papa’ in Greek on his left inner bicep, so that when he brings his arm in towards his chest, the symbolic presence touches his heart. It’s like a little of his father’s entity is now always there with him.
“He’s out there in the world and he’s potentially thinking of me, I believe I must be like him a lot, as I’m not like anyone else in my family. I’d love to meet him, even if it’s to say ‘cheers for life’,” he beams.