Where our real home might be is tricky to say. In a way that is the point. Some people say that it is the body, but I think the body is more of a channel that leads us home. Ultimate reality is our home. It is here and now. In 2016, two artists embarked a cargo ship and retraced a route of the Transatlantic Slave Triangle – Europe, Africa, the Caribbean – all the while contemplating the notion of home. Both real and imagined, it was a journey to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, propelled by questions and grief; a journey backwards in order to go forwards, a diaspora. This show is what they brought back. Selina Thompson's Salt premiered at Southbank Centre in July 2017, and went on to tour in the UK, Australia, Canada and Brazil. Winner of The Stage Edinburgh Award, The Total Theatre Award for Experimentation, Innovation and Playing with Form, and The Filipa Bragança Award. Shortlisted for the Amnesty International Freedom of Expression Award.
When I was assigned this book for a group presentation at school and had to present on it, it took everything in me not to break down in a room full of people mid-presentation.
Never have I been struck this hard by the weight of sl*very—by the history, by the loss, by the echoes that still linger.
Allow me to gather what is left of me.
In Salt, Selina Thompson embarks on a deeply personal and poetic journey aboard a cargo ship. She traces the Transatlantic Slave Triangle—Europe, Africa, and the Caribbean—and navigates the waters that carried millions into bondage. As she confronts the weight of history, grief, and identity, she questions what it means to belong.
I don't read plays often but this play has left a hunger in me, a hunger for solo performance plays. I don't want to just read them. I want to watch as many as possible.
Blending raw emotion with powerful storytelling and “ritualistic” performance (which is made clear in the written directions), Salt is an excavation of the past in search of healing, a reckoning with the legacy of slavery, and a meditation on home—both real and imagined.
The part that really got to me was “The Second Point: Africa”. I have journeyed along that same route in Ghans as the playwright and reading about the recollection, so well told, brought back memories—of how I felt on the day of my tour, how my skin crawled when the tour guide passionately recounted the plight of our ancestors, unaware of the effect his vivid retelling was having on us—was having on me.
Why I enjoyed Salt was beyond its subject matter. It was the storytelling itself. The way Selina Thompson wove together personal narrative, poetry and ritual felt both intimate and expansive. Talk less of the breaking of rock salt on stage with a sledgehammer!
Though I am no expert in solo performance plays, I am certain this was not a conventional piece. And yet, there was something grounding about it.
This play was honest and vulnerable.
This was a really good one-person play to read and I can’t wait to grab any opportunity to watch it in person.
“The teacher turned to her and said that “There used to be only two humans in the world, and one day, they both went somewhere that they shouldn’t have gone, and when they came back, they were dirty, stained by the dirt.
‘So they turned to God, and they said, ‘“What can we do to be clean again?” ‘And God said, ‘If you go down to the sea in the morning before the tide goes out, you can wash the stain off yourselves.”
‘“So the humans went to sleep, with the intent the next day to wash themselves clean. ‘Now, one human went to sleep, with the intent the next day to wash themselves clean. ‘Now, one human was good and hard-working, so they woke up easily – went down to the sea, and washed themselves clean, and stood in the sun, sparking and white. ‘The other human was lazy and forgetful – they overslept – so by the time that they arrived at the ocean, the tide was leaving. They only had enough time to put the bottoms of their feet and the palms of their hands in the water. So that was the only part of them that was washed off. They remained stained.’
That’s what she said, the teacher. That’s what she said, to my grandmother, as a child.
Thompson takes the reader on the ultimate journey across the transatlantic triangle, marking Europe, Africa and Caribbean. Recounting the racist remarks onboard the ship, the late grandmother’s stories, and the grief expressed for ancestors left long gone, Thompson explores and reaffirms the Woman’s identity through a lens of remembrance and community.
A slow, winding, twisted self recovery, the playwright emphasises the pain the Woman is forced to sit with, and at the same time, move on from.
A beautifully crafted script, and certainly deserving of high praise.
I read this play in winter of 2021 and forgot to review it on here. I found myself flicking through it this afternoon and was reminded of what a fantastic piece of work it is.
I feel that José Muñoz makes a great point on decolonial performance which can be applied to this performance; “It is important to call upon the past, to animate it, understanding that the past has a per formative nature, which is to say that rather than being static and fixed, the past does things.”
I wish I had the privilege of seeing this performance in person, however I recommend to anyone who enjoyed this play to watch the documentary on BBC iPlayer.
I am likely to reread this in the future and write a complete review on it, however I wanted to share her work and bring myself back to it. I am completely enraptured by Thompson’s work, and recommend anyone interested in theatre and performance read her it.
I am so impressed by the way Selina Thompson expresses herself. I think she has such a good way of using language to show the beauty of things but also to raise awareness of bigger issues. Her writing is poetic without it coming across as sleazy or insincere. (read in my uni class on Black British Theatre)
One-woman play retraces the steps of the slave trade. She travels from England to Jamaica, and even though the road is hard and the trauma of slavery weighs heavily on her shoulders, it 'is not the same as trauma experiences and embodied'."
A short read about race, feminism, and owning your story.
an unbelievably emotional, grounded, poetic, and brilliant piece. the only one woman show i have ever enjoyed reading - i cried reading the end of it. expresses the harrowing, sorrowful nature of its content beautifully. one of the best plays i have ever read. killer application of Suzan Lori-Parks’ “rep & rev” concept of theatre.
Saw this this eve at the REP theatre in Birmingham. It's one of those that'll stick with you forever and I am grateful that I got to see it. It's an incredibly personal journey delivered by a powerful performer.
Salt is one of the plays I saw at the Under the Radar Festival at the Public earlier this year. It's something that clings to you, and tugs, the thought of story weighing on your mind. Which is why I wanted to revisit the script, and it was just as compelling. Selina Thompson is clearly writing about a feeling that she knows so well, and she makes the audience know it too. The weight of the history of the African Diaspora, and the push and pull of Europe, fingerprints on nearly every edge of this Earth. It's done masterfully and viscerally. It makes me want to turn the words over in my head and continue to think about them, to grieve the experience of the main character with her, to take the piece of salt and carry that burden too.
Beautiful and moving. I wish I would have been able to have seen it live.
I first hear about Selina in my third year at university. I was intrigued by her work. We spoke about this play in one of my workshop classes and I knew I had to read it.