Debuting at this year’s Fringe, Dee Allum brings her show Deadname to Edinburgh. Here Allum chats to Pepper&Salt about her new hour, making her debut and her responsibility as a comedian.
What are some of the themes that you explore in this show that links all of your thoughts together?
A chunk of the show, a significant part of the show, is about coming out and how different groups of people have responded to that. think the thing that ties all of that together is how hard it is, how people don’t necessarily always respond in the way that you might hope – or at least if they do, that doesn’t make the comedy so you won’t be hearing about it in the show – but just the idea that it is quite tough to move through the world, to be honest with the people around you. And I do think that is something that is relatively universal, you know I’m sure everyone has parts of themselves that they worry that if they kind of expose to the outside world, that people might not look at them the same way or love them in the same way. So that is something that runs through the show. So my relation to other people, but also how I kind of reconcile how much how little I cared for myself, you know, back in the day versus how important I was in other people’s lives and how since coming out and having all this new stuff that I’m really excited about, sort of comes at the cost of everyone around me losing the person that they really cared for. And just being aware of that, you know. Coming out is a very joyful experience in all sorts of ways but a pretty major part of it was everyone around me being really quite upset. Which is hard, it’s a hard thing to go through, but also a little bit funny. Like it’s, there’s just some very surreal strange moments that you kind of have to laugh at. So that’s what I’ve tried to do.
What do you hope audiences take away from your show?
I mean, it’s hard, I don’t want, this isn’t a lecture, I don’t want people to change their political views based on watching this show. I mean, ideally don’t be a dick, that goes without saying, I think if possible. Avoid that if you can. Hopefully, this show isn’t the first time that people are telling you that. But also, I’m aware, that basically every show I do, I assume just through weight of numbers, there’ll be at least one person watching who’s never knowingly listened to a trans person before. And that feels like quite a weight of responsibility to kind of shift the conversation. By just the fact of my existence, and me choosing to get up stage and talk about myself – because of the state of the conversation – that is a sort of political thing. Just being trans is an issue in of itself. So, I can’t escape that entirely. You know if people are going to take away something from the show, whether I want them to or not. But I take that responsibility seriously, that I am representing a community that doesn’t get heard from more often than we’re heard about, all the time at the moment. And I think hearing someone talk very frankly and with wit and hopefully grace. If someone comes in being on the fence about this whole trans thing then hopefully the show will let them know that we are just normal, apart from the obvious, we’re pretty normal people.
“it is quite tough to move through the world, to be honest with the people around you. And I do think that is something that is relatively universal, you know I’m sure everyone has parts of themselves that they worry that if they kind of expose to the outside world, that people might not look at them the same way or love them in the same way.”
How do you navigate the whole role of everyone expects you to be the spokesperson because you’re the one in the room or you’re the one who’s being talked to at the minute?
I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong way to go about. All I can do as a comedian, you know comedians are not, we’re not policy makers or thought leaders or CEOs. We really have very little actual power to sort of change anything. All I can do is be honest. And my purpose, as I say is not to change people’s minds, my purpose is to make people laugh and if as a by-product of that, people view trans people generally more positively then that’s great, but I don’t think that’s really in my remit, I’m not sure that’s something I could ever really be certain of achieving. So, I’ll just stick with the laughs and if good things come of it, then great, but if not, no, I don’t really know if it’s my responsibility alone to fix it. I don’t think people should be putting that much weight into the things that I say, not that they do but they shouldn’t. I’m just a person onstage telling jokes. And that’s sort of the beginning and the end of it, I think.
What are you looking forward about making your Edinburgh Fringe debut?
I mean the whole thing is very exciting, it’s the biggest art festival in the world, to be a part of it in any way is very exciting. I’ve done a couple of festivals before, either just a tiny little, short set, like I did the Pleasance Reserve a couple of years ago, so that’s just 15 minutes every night, and I did a couple of university sketch shows, which varied in quality. Some pretty good, some really abysmal, but whenever I’ve gone to the Fringe I’ve really, really enjoyed it, just the feeling of being part of something much larger than yourself surrounded by like-minded people, always, always something going on, it’s just a very exciting place to be. So hopefully this year, as it’s my official my first official, big proper thing, hopefully I’ll feel even more a part of it than I have done previously. And that can only be a good thing.
In Shakespeare, the role of the fool and the king are very distinct, with the idea that a fool can’t be a king and a king can’t be a fool. How do you think this applies to the modern context?
I’ve already touched on it a little bit I suppose with the idea that at the end of the day, I am just a person onstage telling jokes. No comedian really holds any sort of concrete, institutional power. I mean if we broaden our definition of fool and king, obviously it’s very possible to be the person in charge and a person who has absolutely no idea about what’s going on, as we’ve seen in the last 14 years. It’s very, very easy to be exactly those two things at the same time. I think you know the idea of someone who speaks truth to power is sometimes tough to transition from that into being then the person who actually makes the decisions. I think, most fools, modern fools; comedians, journalists even, satirical journalists who do like Private Eye that kind of thing, I think most of those people have really no interest in being the king, and I think likewise most people who are motivated by power are motivated by that and very little else. So, you don’t have people who really want to be both of those things, so I suppose my answer would be yes, it is the case that a king is unlikely to want to be a fool, and a fool is unlikely to want to be a king. I mean the fool in Shakespeare certainly tends to be the character with the most insight, the most actual understanding of what’s going on, being able to skewer it in the most eviscerating way, and I think in part oof what comes with that insight is the knowledge that it’s quite a miserable existence, so you’d be wise to avoid it. I think most people would kind of balk at the idea of being the person in charge, because they just have a terrible time. What a horrible life.
By Katerina Partolina Schwartz
Photo Credit: Rebecca Need-Menear
Pepper & Salt 
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