In Conversation with Ramesh Meyyappan & George Mann

Combining striking physical storytelling with dynamic projection and a soundtrack that can be felt and heard, Last Rites is a non-verbal solo show told through a Deaf man’s perspective, exploring the poignant story of a complex relationship cut short. Through vivid memory sequences, Scottish-Singaporean theatremaker and Deaf artist Ramesh Meyyappan brings to life the complexities of grief, fatherhood, and a language-divided relationship.

The show heads on a national tour from 15 January – 19 February 2025.

Last Rites draws from your shared experiences of losing your fathers and becoming fathers yourselves. How did these personal events shape the narrative and emotional core of the show, and what was the most challenging part of translating these experiences into theatre?

    Yes, the loss of our fathers was something that connected us through the devising process and creation of this production – along with becoming fathers ourselves. Both of these events are life changing and highly emotional, formative experiences. One of the challenges was how to draw on these lived experiences in a way that doesn’t feel too private, inaccessible or indulgent and use it to shape a powerful story. A rigorous creative process involving outside eyes and dramaturgs was an essential part of ensuring we could get an outside perspective on the work, helping us to keep our audience in mind as we developed the piece.

    The show centers on Arjun’s struggle to perform an ancient Hindu ritual while also dealing with a father who never learned sign language. How did you approach balancing the cultural and linguistic elements to ensure they resonate with a broad audience while maintaining authenticity?

      In a sense, it’s about storytelling – and how you tell a story that includes all the relevant information required for an audience to fully access, understand and connect with another human being. To achieve this we had to do a lot of research, partly mining the past and memory, but then in the transposition of these memories into a story for theatre we also had to do a lot of in-depth research into Hindu ritual and mythology (much of the work didn’t end up in the show, but definitely underpins it), but also Deaf culture in India and the UK. We worked with academics, dramaturgs, BSL and ASL consultants, and made the piece over a staggered process, 11 weeks over 2 years, with multiple sharings and feedback sessions to allow time for us to weave what we were learning and discovering into the work, ensuring that what we created was authentic, and resonated broadly with audiences.

      Last Rites incorporates BSL, creative captions, and physical storytelling to engage Deaf and hearing audiences alike. Can you discuss the creative process behind integrating these elements, and how they enhanced the storytelling?

        The design elements of the show and our collaboration with our fantastic design and production team played a big part in breaking down linguistic and cultural barriers that exist between Deaf and hearing audiences – with sound, light, set and video projection working together seamlessly to create a culturally authentic and exciting style everyone can access.

        A lot of the work centred around evoking spaces and feelings, opening up the protagonists world of memories, experiences, feelings and emotions – and crucially this is an innovative access tool as well, with captions brought to life in a beautiful vivid way and light, projection and resonant bass sound enhancing them in a rich variety of ways – audiences don’t just read the captions and see the Sign Language – they experience and feel it.

        Physical storytelling can be, by its very nature, accessible – and often is. It was a joy for us to bring together our different approaches to physical storytelling and find a way for them to form one coherent style, and an integral part of the collaborative language of the production working with all of the design elements to tell Arjun’s story.

        With such distinct artistic styles—Ramesh’s focus on physical theatre and George’s narrative-driven approach—how did you navigate blending these perspectives to create a cohesive vision for Last Rites?

          We actually both have a focus on physical theatre and narrative, having both created many non-verbal physical pieces over nearly 2 decades, so this is part of what connects us as artists.

          While we agree we have distinct artistic styles, it’s our shared love for physical theatre and storytelling/narrative that made us want to work together when we met at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2010 (yes it took over 10 years for it to happen!). Blending our perspectives and approaches was a real joy. Finding a cohesive vision was part of our staggered process, always taking the time to research, develop and create with consensus every step of the way. Because we both work collaboratively it wasn’t just about us – it also involved working collaboratively with the entire creative team who brought their skills, expertise and wonderful ideas and creativity to rehearsals. The joy of collaborative devising is seeing something come together that no one person could have conceived – it’s part of why we love theatre making. And we were lucky to have an incredible team around us!

          While the play is rooted in the specific experiences of a Deaf protagonist, it explores universal themes of grief, reconciliation, and parenthood. How did you ensure that the story remains relatable and evocative for audiences from all walks of life?

            Bringing a historically underrepresented perspective on grief and parenthood to the stage presented us with some exciting challenges: how do you stage a story from a Deaf man’s point of view that works for both Deaf and hearing audiences? How can that story tear down the barriers between both communities and focus on our shared humanity as well as celebrating the cultural and experiential differences? These questions were a constant for us, helping us to navigate the process, steering the creative team. The medium of theatre, being a communal art form, is the perfect space in which to foster live, and very real, connections that many audiences will not have experienced before. We hope that this is what Last Rites does – stages a story that anyone can relate to, whilst also helping us all to see our common humanity where historically ‘othering’ and marginalisation have created division. Last Rites is about something many of us will experience in our lives, losing our parents and becoming parents, but not all of us are represented in these stories on our stages, screens or in mainstream culture. We hope that plays like ours can start to change that, start new conversations and develop a greater sense of empathy, understanding and compassion that brings diverse audiences together. 

            REVIEW: As I Am Naturally


            Rating: 4 out of 5.

            ‘A victorious and rhythmically hypnotising reclamation of the body in the wake of assault’


            The metal plains of Salford seem rather quiet for a Friday night, but the black box confines of the Aldridge Studio are about to be melted away. Once transported to the flowing sands of Cape Verde, Tania Camara’s ‘As I Am Naturally’ compels the audience with forty-five minutes of spoken word and dance all driven by the rhythms of Batuku, a style of performance originating from the African island nation.

            ‘As I Am Naturally’ is a transfixing, physically driven piece of theatre. It owes much of this focus on embodiment to its gripping yet well-handled dissection of reclaiming oneself in the violent wake of sexual trauma. What makes this utterly more tragic is Camara’s decision to focus on childhood sexual assault, an often-taboo subject in British cultural works. However, this piece does not mellow in tragedy yet resurfaces in a victorious reclamation of sexual identity. 

            Much of this victory owes itself to Camara’s distinct ability to accommodate the audience. She engages by rarely breaking eye contact with the audience, yet also her natural demeanour invites the audience to listen. It helps she is a professional clinical hypnotherapist, which creates a perpetually connected and fascinatingly sustained performance. The strongest moments come in times where Camara balanced paralysing silences with the multilingual, enveloping writing. Featured in the captivating section which harrowingly recalls an assault, Camara repeats, ‘I lay there still as a carcass. Rage’. 

            The writing is hypnotically repetitive, without becoming arduous, and creates a sensuousness which is assisted by some highly emotive lighting design from Andrew Croft. Unfortunately, this hypnotism is broken occasionally by the physical presence of a musical performer on stage with Camara. While the sound design of the piece occasionally works in tandem with the rest of the piece, with some beautifully soothing arrangements, it sometimes is a distraction from the intimate atmosphere between Camara and the audience – which I see as the piece’s strongest suit. 

            The other aspects of the stagecraft work to varying successes. The set is great, dominated by a ‘veve’ – a cosmogram representing Oshun, the goddess of love, fertility, and abundance. Camara constructs this at the top of the piece by sprinkling sand over the stage floor, evoking the spirit of the goddess throughout the performance. The projection works as an effective way to translate verbatim recordings of assault survivors telling their stories in Portuguese and Cape Verdean Creole, yet sometimes its use to demarcate sections with names can again be distracting. 

            This piece was created in association with the ‘Developed With’ programme facilitated by the Lowry and is a wonderful feature for the Manchester theatrical scene. It is community that runs through this piece and is worth seeing purely for a moment of magic in the conclusion of the show where the power of community is felt at its strongest. It is well deserving of life beyond this short run.

            REVIEW: Ockham’s Razor: Tess


            Rating: 5 out of 5.

            A testament to the transformative potential of artistic expression.


            Transforming a novel from 1891 that challenged the sexual norms of late Victorian England while focusing on rural lower classes and addressing issues like privilege, class, poverty, agency, female desire, solidarity, and the necessity for non-industrialized agriculture is no small feat. By shifting the narrative to a female-led perspective and infusing circus elements to capture the physical essence of the story, Ockham’s Razor Tess emerges as a remarkable fusion of literature and circus artistry. It transcends the boundaries of conventional storytelling mediums, offering a sensory experience that parallels the depth of the original novel.

            Through a masterful choreography that rivals the descriptive prose of the novel, audiences are drawn into an emotional journey that resonates long after the dazzling displays of skill and strength on stage. The creative vision of Tina Bicât’s set design, Aideen Malone’s lighting, and Daniel Denton’s video design breathes life into Wessex, crafting an atmospheric and dynamic backdrop that accentuates the power and resilience of the female body.

            The ensemble cast, led by Macadie Amoroso, Joshua Frazer, Lauren Jamieson, Lila Naruse, Victoria Skillen, Leah Wallings, and Nat Whittingham, delivers performances that are mesmerizing in their adaptability and coherence. The doble act performing Tess Durbeyfield (Macadie Amoroso and Lila Naruse) embodied brilliantly both the physical hardships and the unwavering spirit of the character, while maintaining a crisp narrative voice that directly engages the audience. 

            Ockham’s Razor Tess is not merely a retelling of a classic novel—it is a testament to the transformative potential of artistic expression.