Contrary to the title of one of Nina Simone’s most iconic tunes (written by Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse for their 1964 musical The Roar of the Greasepaint – The Smell of the Crowd), the High Priestess of Soul is not feeling good.

At least, not at the start of Apphia Campbell’s self-penned one-woman show Black Is The Colour Of My Voice which for the last several years she has been touring to sold-out audiences from as far afield as Shanghai to New York. Most recently, a month-long residency at Trafalgar Studios in London.

The reason for the black clouds of gloom casting a shadow over her garish blouse being the death of her father from whom she seeks forgiveness from beyond the grave following an acrimonious parting which she deeply regrets.

Addressing his framed photo, an imaginary mirror and an empty chair – rarely the audience, which weakens the impact of her performance under the co-direction of Arran Hawkins and Nate Jacobs  – treasured items plucked from a suitcase ignite snippets of song and reminiscences about her childhood, early career and political activism.

The latter aspect of which – crescendoing with the fist-raising anger of Mississippi Goddam about the separate murders of the black civil rights activist Medgar Evers and four black girls at a church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama – being by far the most dramatic in terms of staging and emotional intensity.

A public announcement about the death of Martin Luther King made all the more powerful by an extended blackout.

A fine actor with a fine voice, Campbell may lack the sorcery of her spell-casting heroine (few if any come close), but given the fire in her belly and sensitivity in her soul, it’s certainly worth checking out her latest show Woke about “the 20th-century African-American experience” which she performs on alternate afternoons at the same venue.

Peter Callaghan
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