Can you tell us a bit about your nameless character in Close Enough to Touch?

He’s a young man who’s struggling to piece his life together. Not to absolve him of his mistakes but I do see him as a victim of the world around him and its expectations of him. The play is a monologue; it’s all from his perspective. He’s trying to make sense of himself and his mistakes and to find his place in the world. He’s struggling, as we all do, to navigate a path which hasn’t been clearly paved for him and battling with his own sense of identity and morality along the way.

What attracted you to the role and Henry Roberts’ play?

I’ve never done a one-person show before so it’s exciting but terrifying at the same time.

I’m always attracted to queer characters and stories because they are naturally the most relatable to me – I don’t always get to play queer characters so relish it when I do. It’s a story about cruising, a pocket of queer society that not everyone knows or understands. It’s a gift to be able to help share queer stories – particularly when the themes of the play might be things that people don’t know so much about.

Historically, queer people tend to be pushed into the peripheries of society which leads to them seeking out safe spaces where they can be their authentic selves – we see that in this play. For many years, cruising has been a means for gay men to freely engage with their sexual truth without reprimand, legal or otherwise. What’s intriguing to me is even at a time now when being gay isn’t illegal, people are still drawn to these activities and spaces. For my character in the play, it’s about anonymity, but for others it’s about exhilaration, thrill and relinquishing control, so it’s interesting to explore why people still go cruising and want to engage with it – what does that clandestine nature of it provide?

The character I play seems to harbour a lot of queer shame and it’s interesting for me to think about where this comes from because he has a girlfriend and a family that seem very accepting. Hopefully the play will spark conversations about internalised homophobia and that legacy of shame left by generations of unfair treatment.

What do you hope audiences take away from the play?

I hope people start to think about nuance in identity and sexuality and laugh at the jokes. I hope people see this character who is flawed and manage to sympathise with him. I also hope people don’t judge his sexual behaviour because at the end of the day, as long as it doesn’t hurt others, surely people should be able to live their lives however they desire.

Why did you want to work with Red Ladder and Silent Uproar and what are you particularly looking forward to? 

I grew up in Leeds, so I’ve known about Red Ladder and their work. I like the way they tackle important issues and take them to unconventional spaces. They go where people don’t always experience theatre which I think is important as it widens the conversations around these topics.

I was less familiar with Silent Uproar but I remembered seeing their production A Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad) in 2017 and it being excellent.

From my first audition everyone has been so welcoming, and I feel a real affinity with the collaborative way they work. I’m looking forward to seeing how all this builds so we can create something bold and exciting.

Why is it important that stories like Close Enough to Touch are told on stage?

I think it’s important for people to learn about worlds they don’t know about and to be exposed to new things – in this case, about men cruising for sex in public toilets. I think acceptance bleeds into communities through exposure. In telling stories about obscure communities, it makes people more familiar with them and then hopefully more tolerant.
In that tolerant world maybe, this character would feel freer to open up about his internal conflicts without fear of being ostracised. He might not have to live such a starkly double life hurting the people around him in the process.

“In telling stories about obscure communities, it makes people more familiar with them and then hopefully more tolerant.”

Do you feel this is a human story, a queer story, or both?

To me, it’s both. It’s a story about relationships, and a man who experiences a lot of the difficulties many people encounter these days – like lack of motivation or drive, finding their place in the world, or tying down their identity. These things aren’t necessarily intrinsically queer.

At the same however this is a certainly queer story and not solely because of the character’s sexual questioning. For me, queerness goes beyond sexuality and identity. Queerness in how I think about it, is simply existence which doesn’t fit the prevalent social conditioning.

I believe the more that people not only engage with, support, and uplift queer societies, but join them, the more they bolster those communities. Being an ally in our current political climate is queer. I feel the more broadly people claim that queerness in solidarity with our community the quicker we will learn to celebrate similarities over differences. Ultimately, it’s about acceptance, understanding and tolerance. In my perception of an ideal world, queerness wouldn’t exist because difference would be celebrated.

To me then, this is a queer story because it’s asking audiences to question their perceptions and it’s seeking to humanise a community which might seem other.

Can you tell us a bit about your story and why you wanted to become an actor and performer? 

It was just me and my mum growing up. I lived in a little village, so I wasn’t exposed to much theatre. My school did a play every year, but I remember being too scared to audition in case anyone might think I was gay (I’d spent years changing my walk, dropping my voice and acting out and I wasn’t about to undo all that hard work!).

In sixth form I auditioned for that year’s play Taming of The Shrew, and I played Bianca, Kate’s beautiful, enigmatic (and dictated by casting – bald) younger sister.

It’s the classic naughty kid finds an outlet for all their extraneous energy, starts kissing boys and behaving in school narrative. Grades went up, I wasn’t spending my days in isolation anymore and I’d found something I really loved.

I went on to study English at King’s College London, and as part of my course we did lectures at the Globe, and I got to stand on the stage which reinforced my love for Shakespeare. Growing up a mixed-race person with ambiguous looks whose sexuality and identity was always a bit confused, what I loved about Shakespeare was how anyone could play any role, it didn’t matter what your gender was. I think that’s what made me feel like there was a place for someone like me in this industry.
I think I always knew I wanted to be a performer, but it wasn’t till years later that I realised it might be possible.

 “What I loved about Shakespeare was how anyone could play any role, it didn’t matter what your gender was. I think that’s what made me feel like there was a place for someone like me in this industry.”

What have been your career highlights so far?

I watched my first proper play How Many Miles to Basra? at West Yorkshire Playhouse when I was a teenager and then nearly ten years later my first professional theatre job was there at that same theatre so that felt really full circle. I also did a play at the Royal Exchange in Manchester and when you grow up in the North those venues feel pretty special.

The most fun I’ve ever had on stage was a play called Cherry Jezebel, which we did at the Everyman. The play was hilarious and I felt a real affinity with the character I was playing, so that really stands out to me.

I did a TV show called Eric, where I got to film in New York. I’d never been before and I remember spending my evenings traipsing the streets of Manhattan just thinking ‘how off it is this?’

Why is theatre still important today and what makes it different from other forms of entertainment?

In this epidemic of loneliness that we are living in, where we spend so much of our lives isolated from human interaction and communicating with each other through screens, I think live arts are more important than ever because I think people crave connection.

In the same way that sporting events and dance culture does, theatre brings people together in the same room, shoulder to shoulder. It’s only when we’re together that I feel we can get the full human experience. Communication is so much more than words – it’s body language, it’s intuition, and for want of a better word, energy. It’s sensing the breath or tears of the person next to you, it’s synchronized emotion.

All art is somewhat contrived, but it strives not to be. I believe that theatre gets closer to that truth than TV or film can. Theatre, done well, provides an honesty and immediacy which is both thrilling and affecting.

‘Close Enough To Touch’ tours this autumn and tickets are on sale now. 

Stefan Race grew up near Leeds and trained at the Academy of Live & Recorded Arts (ALRA). Their theatre credits include Of Mice & Men (Derby Theatre, Octagon Theatre, Hull Truck Theatre, Theatre by the Lake); Let the Right One In (Manchester Royal Exchange), Cherry Jezebel (Liverpool Everyman), and Wendy and Peter Pan (Leeds Playhouse). Stefan’s films include Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore, and A Christmas Gift from Bob, with Eric (Netflix) and Temple (Sky), among their TV credits. You can read more about them here.