
TOUCH BLUE, TOUCH YELLOW | THEATRE REVIEW
Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff, Thurs 3 Dec
“This planet’s quite interesting, I suppose. But it’s too complicated – there’s too much happening on it all the time!” Carl lives in a world of stars, solar systems and gas giants. Carl knows an extraordinary amount about astronomy, and will talk excitedly about it to anyone who will listen, always with a certainty that they will be amazed by his staggering facts about the proportions, chemical compositions and atmospheres of different planets. Unfortunately, other people are more often exasperated or befuddled, and Carl doesn’t find it easy to talk about anything else, due to his autism.
Touch Blue Touch Yellow is a theatrical insight into the disability, following Carl from age 10 into the increasing struggles of adult life and employment. It’s commendable for not only showing how the condition makes life more difficult, as well as the interesting and, yes, positive aspects to autism. At one point, someone else with autism who Carl meets online says defiantly “we’re more original!” The play also explores difficulties in social inclusion, friendship, work and love – and the fear of failure in these, and the potential consequences therein.
The title of Tim Rhys’ play refers to the supposed ‘therapy’ that Carl is put through in the play’s first act, known as ‘operant conditioning’. Pioneered by behavioural psychologist BF Skinner, the controversial process, first tested on rats, involves changing the subject’s behaviour through offering rewards for correct behaviour, and denying rewards or punishing ‘incorrect’ behaviour. In Carl’s first bout of training (the psychologist played coldly by Dafydd Wyn Roberts), he’s commanded to ‘touch blue’, or ‘touch yellow’, in order to have his beloved astronomy book returned to him. This is one of the most unpleasant scenes in a play that has a few contenders. The characters don’t discuss the effects, and the question of the treatment’s success, or continuation, is conspicuously abandoned, leaving the audience to reflect on it alone.
Another area the play explores is the strain on the family of an autistic child, and it is in that scene that we see the cracks emerge – foreshadowing a breakup of the family unit. Carl’s father, played by Jams Thomas, is obviously bothered by his behaviour more than his mother (Stacey Daley), who is a purely nurturing and supportive figure, who has a more natural rapport with her son in spite of his communication difficulties. “You two have your own world you go into,” he cries, during a moment of frustration at the oddness of Carl’s compulsive hand movements (known as ‘stimming’), and his son’s distress when he aggressively encourages eye contact and a traditional father-son chat.
After Carl’s dad leaves, we see some more ups and downs of Carl’s life as he grows up, and the play throws an important light onto the supportive world of online forums for those living with autism, where Carl chats with faceless usernames about his condition, and finds friendship. Less positive is his traumatic experience at a work social that he has nervously prepared for with his mother. Unfortunately, his practiced attempts at basic conversation are no match for the overstimulating onslaught of his colleagues’ strange, unintelligible banter and the loud music and flashing lights on the dancefloor, and the evening turns into a demotivating event for Carl – an experience that may be sharply familiar for people with autism.
The play never quite takes flight as much as you’d like it to into an immersive dramatic experience; poetic excerpts by Tracey Rhys, though quite striking, don’t flow smoothly into the plot. But it is engaging, and undoubtedly earnest and well-intentioned, with an obvious wealth of real insights from the autism community. The tiny cast is well picked; Joshua Manfield’s boyish Carl drew out the audience’s affection instantly, and overall it’s a strong and much-needed contribution to the theatre scene in Wales, in its sincere, entertaining and accessible discussion of this disability.
words GWYN THOMAS DE CHROUSTCHOFF