Colchester Cultural Strategy: Evening with Hanif Kureishi

On a cool evening in Colchester, Essex, England, goatee bearded Steve Mannix (Executive Director of the Mercury Theater), joined the internationally acclaimed author/playwright Hanif Kureishi for a ‘Colchester Cultural Strategy: Evening’ at the Mercury Theatre, Colchester.

For some rapturous minutes we (the audience) were treated to a reading by Britain’s former writer enfant terrible Kureishi, from his seminal and somewhat autobiographical work ‘The Buddha of Suburbia’. The author’s descriptions brought my 1960s/70s past right back to me with all the images of my black crushed velvet, black patent leather, brightly coloured kaftans, chunky beads, tiny bells and the curious scents of patchouli and hashish. Had the reading extended for a mere few minutes I might have expected someone to pass around a joint. It didn’t and they didn’t, though it was an opportunity missed.

I had gone to the Mercury Theatre, I must confess, to see and listen to Hanif Kureishi and not necessarily to become involved in the ensuing discussion about Colchester’s cultural future, inclusive or not. What emerged was a lively debate about the future of culture in Colchester and its surrounds and, as interesting as it was, I would have preferred more from that Pakistani Bromley boy (and intriguing cultural personage) sitting on stage.

Having only momentarily arrived back from the Far East, and the lack of cultural support for most events and affairs of the arts by various governmental bodies found there, I found that Colchester, and Britain, to be well blessed by governmental (local and central) support. The Colchester Cultural Strategy discussion, to me, sounded like a constant and never-ending moan about a lack which can never end. Britain looks to ‘officials’, to ‘government’ to fulfil their cultural needs, in places like Cambodia and Malaysia people, though wishing for governmental support, understand that the only way cultural events and happenings take place, is by people getting off their arses and doing something for themselves. And I was sorely tempted to say just that, last evening, so it was a good job that the microphone never reached me.