INTERVIEW: Larry Achiampong's intimate take on the post-colonial UK

The “Wayfinder” is the journey of a Wanderer throughout the post-colonial UK. From the African diaspora perspective. It is also a journey on the histories of class, race and identity. A young black woman follows a path guided by stories of marginalized communities, narrated in six chapters. With poetics and abstraction, the British-Ghanaian artist and film-maker Larry Achiampong adds his own personal take on the representation of those underrepresented.

The film is already released in cinemas, and we met with the artist to learn about his journey while making this film.

This film is part of a bigger project, a solo exhibition on class and economic exclusion, belonging and displacement, cultural heritage, and the meaning of home. It sounds like a big challenge to open up a dialogue about colonialism and its aftermaths. From your perspective and experience, what is the audience for this confrontation? What is your target with this film in particular?

The voices that are centered within the film are those of black women. It was something that I wanted to bring to the table; local conversations in regards to experiences of living in the UK. One of the most important things in the process of developing the work, let alone the show, was connecting with local communities, whilst working with Turner Contemporary. And so we worked with the People Dem Collective. It is a local collective of people made of black and brown people who have mobilized and organized themselves to be able to look after each other, to be able to exist within the presence of one another. But most importantly, for their voices to be heard, which have been ignored for a long time. It was important to me personally, to be able to make the connection with them because that was also the connection with the local community. Even before we opened the doors of the show itself, we opened the doors to those of the People Dem Collective. I’m not in the business of making work and simply just showing the work in places. If I’m being commissioned to produce something, and it’s within a particular space or area, then I want to think about connecting or forming relationships. I grew up in East London and Essex, but I also went to Margate (a town in the UK) at a few different points in my childhood, so I already had somewhat of a relationship and knowledge of the area.

Obviously, there is a range of people demographicwise you come to the show. Of course, I’m open to as many people as possible to experience the work. I think it is important also for white people to hear these kinds of experiences, which tend to fall on deaf ears. Especially if we think about the context of what a COVID kind of set up. For those of us, within particular demographics who have experienced depression, being forced to live inside is not new. But you could call it some kind of awakening of sorts.

I guess giving voice to those that haven’t been heard is also the reason why you chose to have a narrative voice following the main character throughout the film. It comes off mostly as an intimate and poetic exploration of your sociopolitical theme. How much of the content of the narrative is your personal story? Or is it a recollection, an archive of your experience of being around these communities?

The text is kind of an amalgamation of a range of experiences. Both semi-autobiographical in some ways, but also inspired by black women who I know, in particular my sister, who is about a year and a half younger than me. As a kid, I looked up to her. She was a bit more mature than me, in the sense of being more outgoing. I would play downstairs, but I would stay in my bedroom quite a lot. So it was interesting to see her traveling to these different parts of London or outside of London, and coming back with stories and experiences. There was something of bravery that I ired about her. That’s where the makeup and the clothing choices of the character of the “Wayfinder” come from. Additionally, I worked with a writer and journalist who I’ve collaborated with on scripts for short films that I’ve created in the past. I had ideas for the scripts that I had written down. Then I invited her to challenge some things. Both of us have similar heritage, both have been raised in East London. But she also has the experience of being a black woman. She had something to bring to the table. Especially because of her approach to the written language; she has a poetic way of writing, that I think it can be complicated, depending on how you want to interpret the work. Or, it can be quite simple as well. You can read it with a range of layers. Together, we created a soup across the six chapters of the film. So, the final text is a mixture of things.

The chapters are following different locations as well, which are also portrayed in a poetic way. You give a lot of time for the viewer to observe the locations. They are astonishing. You do not only show the natural environment of the UK, but you included ancient paths and relics. Could you give us a tour of this journey of yours, on finding and deciding the shooting locations?

A lot of planning took place about the different kinds of environments and specific spots. For example, one of the people on my team, Louise, found a site where the train tracks are off. It is interesting within the UK, or even England, there’s a lack of consideration. People might talk about going on holiday or visiting different places, but England is quite vast. It is a kind of city-based place, with many rural places, some of which are very different from others. It was important to think about that, but also to think about this expansive journey that the wanderers are taking.

When I film a site for a film, I don’t imagine going back to that place again; I feel like I have built the relationship already. But it was quite unique with Hadrian’s Wall—the location of the first chapter, which was where I came up with the idea of the “Wayfinder.” In the past, I have done there some filming for a short film, for a collaborative project with the artist David Blandy. Coming back with the rushes for that film, there was so much more that could be captured from this place. Previously, I had not really even scraped the surface. Especially since I did more historical research on the presence of the Romans and the black presence within this site. I felt that I could approach the place again, to reconsider.

When it comes to places like Essex or the Kingdom of the East as it is approached in one of the other chapters, then it is about ancient tongues, with a contemporary approach. I grew up partially in Essex, and it is an environment that is much more than what is usually presented on the media, or on TV shows like “The Only Way Is Essex”. We also took advantage of specific things I knew from my personal experience of going to different places and spots in Essex. In the past, they were commissioning the build-up of wells, in which they were creating businesses for pharmacists and chemists around narratives such as that the water was blessed and would cure people of certain ailments. Which of course, was not true at all. It felt very special for our character to come across this kind of site, which in this case, it’s still somewhat dormant. This kind of conversation is very poignant in the ways that we are aware of the UK’s places.

In recent history, if you think about issues around Brexit, migration feels like we are taking steps backward. We are sending people to Rwanda, yet there is the active practicality of bringing in Ukrainians who are unfortunately suffering at the hands of Russians. There is a division, good migrants versus bad migrants, like black or brown. So, the environment becomes a very important context to think about travel or migration and the vastness of such an incredible but complicated place. You can’t separate migration from the United Kingdom.

The opening scene concludes with a mournful song. It is very emotional and captivating. You introduce similar tunes in other parts also. What is the story behind it?

Mataio Austin Dean sings the song, amongst other songs in the film as well. He acts as the character who is a poet, an artist, a storyteller, the one who tells tales across communities and places. He hands down the songs that communities hold on to, for future generations. This is rooted in the West African culture. While building this idea for the “Wayfinder”, I was thinking about folk traditions, folk songs, and ancient and medieval songs, within the British lens. I knew Mataio and his practice as an artist, as someone who is playing and performing folk music. I spoke to him about this film and this young person’s journey. He did some research himself, and he came up with the folk song “The brown girl.” The interesting thing with child ballads is that there are different versions, although some of the central themes in the story may be the same. One of the things that he mentioned is that in folk traditions songs are almost left open for interpretation. The second song in the film is quite a violent one. It looks at unrequited love, violence, and murder. For me, this song can be approach not necessarily from a heteronormative relationship perspective, but also from the relationship with the land, from the story of somebody that is born, raised, and has loved but did not receive love from the land. For people with darker skin, let’s say in the case of the UK, the difficulty of existence is also on this unbalanced love relationship with the land. For instance, in the second chapter, the wanderer meets with Neil OLY, Britain’s first black female Olympian. It is a prime example of somebody who has been devoted to the UK and is very important to British history, yet she has not received “the flowers”.

It makes sense. The singing creates an atmosphere commemorating all the different histories of cultures and the need to share stories of displacement. It also seems that the film was mostly based on different collaborations.

Collaboration is certainly at the forefront of filmmaking, it cannot happen without that. Even with my short films, the process does not work without collaborating with people. I intriguingly know when and where to have conversations about the ideas that I have as a director. For example, there is a scene shot in E Pellicci cafe in Bethnal Green, a cafe that I would visit frequently as a child. It is popular now, but it is still a community hub, that runs as a family business. I felt that I could explore the personal relationship I had built with the owner, particularly through the two characters that the wanderer meets, and they are visually represented through plates of food.

How do you consider the power of cinema as a dialogue initiator around colonialism and the implications of globalization? How do you think it is impactful, not only to the ones that are directly involved and directly affected by these issues but to the rest of us as well?

I think cinema is such a powerful tool to highlight issues, even on a very nuanced scale. For me, it is inspiration. I was about 12 when I first visited a cinema. I find it a very intimate environment, from the darkness that allows you to keep focus visually, to the fact that you’re sharing a space with others who are also seeing the same thing. But they are also seeing it through different lenses. And so it creates a space for debate. You are able to engage through a multitude of senses. As a maker, it enables me to create a set of stimulation and conversations.

Of course, I work across different mediums. The idea for the “Wayfinder” initially was not to create a feature film. The budget certainly wasn’t of that scale. But then, the ambition and the scope of my stories challenged me to create something that can exist between the art world and the cinematic environment. I think some of my other short films can also fit in the cinema, but they probably won’t work in the same way. “Wayfinder” is a film that is built with cinematic specs, socially speaking, as somebody who has experienced poverty and grew up in Bethnal Green and in Dagenham. People from my kind of background are more likely to go to the cinema than to a gallery space. And that is because gallery spaces are contested spaces, they tend to gaslight people like myself. In the long run, it is important for me to create work that can exist in spaces that, in some respects, I find far more democratized or accessible. That has been the appeal for me. To not compromise on the making, but to fine-tune and use aspects of language and storytelling that people are able to digest, share and debate.