Blacklisted: An Ethnography

For a past assessment, I attended and analysed the play Blacklisted, at the 2023 Sydney Fringe Festival, with the aim of discussing the shared experiences that immigrants and people of colour have at popular culture events, that explore our personal identities, identifying why popular culture is so valuable to this community. Blacklisted, directed by Jessica Fallico and written and performed by Almitra Mavalvala, explores the complex dynamics of being a person of colour and an immigrant, trying to find a place to call home, all while enduring the displacement of home. This autobiographical piece explores Mavalvala’s journey as a student who has faced multiple denied visas, on the basis that she holds a Pakistani passport, and the way she has navigated her emotions, her family, and her home. This play cleverly takes a rather niche experience of displacement and translates it into a universally understood feeling of wanting a place where you can wholly belong, creating an environment where, no matter your cultural background, you can relate to and feel the emotions of the performer. As I break down moments of my experience at this event, I hope to unveil why popular culture events such as these are so significant, not only to the people who directly identify with the experiences, but with all, and the ways in which they can create cultural change, especially within the current Australian milieu. 

As I entered the theatre, the space felt familiar, with several people dressed in traditional South Asian clothes. Waiting in the lobby, I noticed the pleasant atmosphere and the excited chatter, spoken in not just English, but Hindi, Urdu, and Arabic as well. Ten minutes quickly passed in the lobby, and we all began to stream into the theatre, which was truly as black box as you could get; a simple open room, with black walls, and a flat floor. However, the bare theatre had been intricately designed to transport us directly to Karachi, Pakistan. The first thing that hit me was the distinct warm smell of agarbatti that wafted through the space, creating pockets for the dim streaks of warm light to shine down onto the Persian rugs and delicate pottery that sat on the stage. Slowly walking through the crowd into the seats, the ringing sound from a singing bowl reverberated in the room, as the lead actress playing it paced back and forth barefoot around the theatre. The audience were also integrated into the set, with rug seats offered for viewers sitting alongside the performer. As the people slowly filtered into their seats, I felt a few small kicks onto my chair, and realised just how close in proximity we were to each other; I crossed my legs to avoid bumping anyone. When the crowd's gentle conversation settled alongside the singing bowl, the elegant sounds of a tabla and sitar tuning caught my attention, their musicians sitting slightly away from the main set in a dimly lit area of the theatre. 

Not long after, the play began with an acknowledgement of country, and a small introduction from Mavalvala. The lights slowly rose, shifting from a soft warm glow into a harsher blue spot that directed attention towards the lead actress. Accompanied by a live band, she began singing a jazz and blues inspired piece that blended with the traditional Carnatic music that resonated from the corner of the space. As the play progressed, I understood the themes of displacement and belonging that held the audience tightly together. A distinct moment in the show that really pushed the boundaries of ‘theatre’ was when the actress passed out fresh hot cups of chai to the audience seated on the rugs. Although I didn’t get a cup myself, I recognised how each person who did reacted quite similarly, holding the cup tightly between two hands, taking a slow sip and releasing a comforting sigh. A similar moment of unity I noticed within the crowd was towards the end of the show, when the actress began singing a song about the collective troubles of people of colour and immigrants. At this moment, as Mavalvala sang about isolation, family and home, I found myself completely connected to everyone in the crowd as many of us wiped our teary eyes and sniffled as the song ended and the space went silent. These unmistakable responses that so many of us experienced goes to show just how connected we all were, and the universality of the feelings explored in the show 

Reflecting upon this event, I can clearly see the significance it has within popular culture, but also beyond popular culture, as it highlights the people of colour experience, something that is typically neglected within the Western context. It redefines the understanding we all have around the ideas of ‘being blacklisted’, shifting cultural values surrounding the ideas of racial discrimination and xenophobia, while also raising awareness around the ongoing impacts of colonialism. By normalising such conversations and placing them within popular culture contexts, such communities can find a space where they can be vulnerable, while remaining relevant to the general greater cultures that exist within the contemporary context. 

As someone in the space, I felt deeply represented through the nuances of the character and the familiarity of the space, set and music, but I also felt truly connected to the people I sat around as we all cried, sighed and laughed in harmony, displaying our inherent connection to each other as humans. However, as an observer of the event, it was rather beautiful to see the distinct reactions of different audience members, especially of those who looked around the space to try and make sense of an experience others reacted to. Even then, I found that the people who didn’t directly identify with the character were still able to experience and share the emotions that we all did, clearly illustrating the simplicity of human nature, and how we can all share an understanding of an experience, even if it isn’t inherently personal. 

Breaking down this popular culture event helps us deconstruct the rather nuanced experiences that immigrants and people of colour have, therefore allowing the wider community to better understand the almost universal experiences that we as humans all share, surrounding personal identities and finding a sense of belonging. In turn, this reveals why popular culture at its core has the potential to be so valuable to marginalised communities, as it provides a platform for voices to be shared and heard, fostering a sense of identity and belonging while challenging dominant narratives that otherwise silence these experiences.