Gay Camberwell

by Roz

Gay Camberwell owes so much to the Castle.  It hosted our fabulous opening night launch party in November 2008, monthly book group meetings even longer than that and, every Sunday since January 2009, Pink Screen Sundays – free screenings of gay films (bought by them, and with popcorn and, if we were particularly lucky, Maltesers, for viewers). 

The manager, Winston, was an enthusiast for Gay Camberwell from the very beginning.  He embraced its philosophy and ambition, and didn’t falter even when numbers for the films weren’t so good (I’m sure that those films were the ones programmed by Layla!).  He even tolerated my unnecessarily tetchy emails when things went slightly wrong.  I am therefore more pained than I can possibly say to tell you that the Castle has closed: it is the end of an era. 

So, before in a panicky fashion I contemplate where we should have book group, quite apart from desperately trying to identify a venue for regular free gay films plus popcorn and chocolate (though suggestions for both would be welcome), l would like to thank the exceptionally nice man who used to manage the Castle, and who now owns one of the most extensive collection of gay films in England: Winston Levine. 

It’s fortunate that, if the bad news of the closure of the Castle ever had to come, it came the week that Spark storytelling took over our very own Blue Elephant Theatre.  I’m just back from their first night of residence brimming with enthusiasm, albeit still mourning the loss of the Castle: a strange mix. 
 
Layla and I first discovered storytelling on our honeymoon in NYC where we went to a Moth storytelling event: true stories told live without notes.  Despite being exceptionally stingy, the night was so marvellous that I felt compelled to use my phone whilst in NYC to find if there were such nights in London and, in a basement in the East Village, I first heard about Spark.  Run by the very jolly Joanna (a pleasingly alliterative description), my first event on returning to London convinced me it was worth booking months ahead (the nights are almost immediately sold out) and travelling to the depths of north London (Little Venice) – despite the fact that these are two things I dislike doing.  My joy was immense when I realised that – quite independently of my enthusiasm – Spark was to take up residence in the Blue Elephant Theatre (6 minutes from our flat) for an entire week.  I planned to go to three nights of storytelling and scheduled my diary accordingly.  However, just back from the first night, I now realise that this is insufficient to sate my appetite for storytelling and am now trying to rearrange my diary accordingly. Storytelling so often suggests ancient myths (which can be fun) but Spark storytelling is very different.  Tonight we had tales of cocaine and penguins and love and betrayal and electricians. And more.  The thing that makes these nights remarkable is the fact that the stories are true: it’s like your best friend decided to get up on stage and bare his or her soul…  Absolutely unmissable.    

And so, whilst mourning the loss of the wonderful Castle, I feel compelled to celebrate the imagination and enthusiasm that led to Spark coming south of the river. I very much hope that it becomes a regular event at the Blue Elephant. 

Soon, we’ll be blogging about possible venues for book club meetings and films.  But, tonight at least, let’s thank goodness that Camberwell once had the Castle.  And that we have the Blue Elephant theatre.