Anyone familiar with the linguistic dexterity of Ivo Graham will know how densely packed his sentences are. Fans adore his comedy, but spare a thought for the British Sign Language (BSL) interpreters who work for him – particularly when he layers his live shows with PowerPoint displays.
‘His language is incredible, and there are no redundancies like “er” and “um” to give you thinking time,’ says Catherine King, who specialises in interpreting live arts performances, including Graham’s Edinburgh Fringe show, ‘Grand Design’. ‘That split focus with the screen was interesting: you can hear two things at once and your brain chooses which one to listen to, but you can’t see two things at once.’
Demand for BSL interpreting in live arts is growing, in part because more deaf children are going to mainstream schools and are therefore more exposed to their hearing cohorts’ experiences of gigs than previous generations were. Increasing – though not yet satisfactory – levels of inclusivity also mean arts organisations are working harder to get funding for these services. Between 10 and 20 percent of interpreters specialise in live arts, according to Marie Pascal, director of the Performance Interpreting agency. Theatre tends to have the greatest access and innovation – in August this year, the Globe staged a landmark bilingual take on ‘Antony & Cleopatra’, where the Romans spoke English and the Egyptians BSL, with surtitles throughout – while demand is growing for music, which is harder to get arts council funding for.
The challenges of interpreting live comedy for a deaf audience take many forms, from the communication of nuance to the realities of budgets. As a CODA (child of deaf adults), stand-up Ray Bradshaw, from Glasgow, is more aware than most of what’s required. He’s signed two of his own tours – effectively speaking two languages simultaneously – but because English and BSL don’t have the same structure, it isn’t easy. Now, he leaves the interpreting to the experts. He has one preferred interpreter for most shows, but likes also to use local ones in some parts of the UK, to cater for regional BSL variations and slang.
Bradshaw likes the interpreter to stand a little ahead of him on stage so their hand movements indicate where they’re up to in the joke or story, and he can time his own punchline to coincide with theirs. It’s an artform for both parties.
There are times when that hasn’t been possible, though. ‘I did one show in London and a deaf person was laughing really late each time,’ he recalls. ‘It turned out they were Brazilian and their friend was translating BSL into American Sign Language [which is quite different] for them.’
You don’t want a female [interpreter] on stage, unable to answer, and a man saying “boobs, tits, wank” to hundreds of people
When there’s sexualised language, it’s natural for a hearing audience’s eyes to be drawn to the translator, and for titters to spread. A good interpreter won’t want to pull focus from the act, but might also need to be relaxed about the novelty value. In a post #MeToo world, there’s a strong move for interpreters, most of whom are women, to have more say in what they express on stage. In theory, it’s now easier for them to discuss what the sticky areas might be with the act prior, and to clarify whether they’d rather avoid being subject to cheap laughs.
‘You don’t want a female standing on stage, unable to answer, apparently with no agency in the space, and a man just saying “boobs, tits, wank” to hundreds of people,’ says King, who’s quick to emphasise that she’s no prude, having grown up in a region where ‘cunt’ is a term of endearment. ‘Maybe playing with us like that used to be funny but it’s not that funny anymore: hearing audiences can get uncomfortable with it and deaf audiences are so over it. They are so over it.’
King will often work with a production team to develop a character of her own; during the show she’ll be in costume, with relationships to all the other characters, rather than having to stand to the side of the stage. ‘Deaf audiences are incredibly done with side-of-the-stage interpreting in theatre, in Britain certainly,’ she says. ‘They don’t want it. It’s exclusive in the worst possible way. When you place an interpreter at the side of the stage without costume you tell the whole audience – hearing and deaf – that deaf people don’t belong here.’
Linguistically, theatre is rich with challenges. So-called frozen language (such as Shakespearean, or concepts that don’t mean anything to a contemporary audience, such as words spoken in a Chaucerian adaptation) can be incredibly difficult to translate. There are also techniques a theatre interpreter can use to indicate which person is doing the talking. Known as ‘role shift’, it involves often subtle changes in movement, such as tilting one’s head or gaze to indicate who’s addressing who.
Live music comes with a world of other curveballs. The challenge of dealing with multiple voices is something Paul Mancini faced when interpreting for hip hop group Goldie Lookin Chain recently. Just as Catherine King records comedians’ shows (with their permission) in advance to learn the work, Mancini and other music interpreters will ask promoters for set lists before gigs, but this information isn’t always forthcoming. He ended up having to guess what the Welsh rappers would perform and in the end they did nine songs he’d never heard before, and a lot of the rapping was multi-layered.
‘Sometimes all you can do is give a vibe of what’s going on,’ he says. Mancini, who has interpreted for Paul McCartney, Paul Simon and Noel Gallagher, is always on call at Womad festival. The last-minute nature of this means preparation isn’t always possible, and he’s had his work cut out for him interpreting singer-songwriter Soom T (‘Once I was finished I was dipping my hands in ice they hurt so much,’ he laughs), The Jungle Brothers and even Mongolian throat singing (for the last one he translated the introduction and then asked if the deaf gig-goer could put their hand on the speaker).
Sometimes all you can do is give a vibe of what’s going on
Deaf freelance TV presenter Rolf Choutan is enjoying how much more accessible gigs and festivals are becoming for him, but he points out there’s often a choice between being in the thick of things with friends and near the interpreter, who’s often on an accessibility platform far from the stage.
‘It’s also important to acknowledge the bias that exists,’ he says. ‘Most festivals will normally have good interpreters for the main stage, and a festival will understandably focus their resources on that, but we still live at a time where it’s hard for grime and hip hop artists to break into that level of mainstream. Unless they get to Stormzy levels, they’ll be assigned to smaller stages, which don’t have that accessibility.’
He was impressed by the provision at the Stormzy-curated day at All Points East festival in London last year. The interpreters were close to the stage, as well as being projected onto a screen. They also reflected the crowd, with more people of colour interpreting than you would normally see. But the costs can be daunting for organisers.
Secret Garden Party festival general manager Colombe Flint says it might cost them £2,000 – even if only two people have requested it. ‘We’ve considered it at length and concluded one of the most efficient options is to grant the customer two or more complimentary personal assistant tickets so they can choose how they are supported, rather than it being prescribed,’ Flint says.
Another deaf music fan, who asked not to be named, says that while she and many of her friends enjoy the interpretations of acts such as Chris Fonseca, a deaf dancer who has interpreted videos for Stormzy, some other interpretations of rappers that go viral on social media seem more for the benefit of hearing than deaf audiences. What they show off in novelty value they often lack in accuracy, she argues.
While there’s still a way to go, provisions for deaf people in live arts have improved quickly in recent years. Mancini, for example, has something of a residency at the Komedia comedy club in Bath where she interprets shows on the last Saturday of the month. But, across the board, costs are the biggest stumbling block, and it’s up to the biggest artists to lead the way and put their money where their mouths are.
Ivo Graham is on tour until Jan 25, 2025. Ray Bradshaw is performing at The Stand, Glasgow, on December 8.