Saturday, 30 July 2011

Tragic Amy's World of Pain

[NOTE: This poem was created as part of an outreach workshop by Amy Lame and her director and collaborator Scottee at Contact Theatre in Manchester. The result was How Soon is Now?, a cabaret-style performance which preceeded a scratch performance of Amy's Unhappy Birthday. Both elements of the show went down spectacularly, and you can see my ridiculous 'Tabloid Amy' outfit here.]




Reporter: I bring before you the death of Amy Jade
Winehouse, aged 27, born on the 14th September
1983 in London. She was a divorced lady
living at Camden Square, NW1. She was
certified dead at her home on July 23rd.

She was a singer-songwriter at the time
of her death and was identified by her family
here this morning. The scene was investigated
by police and determined non-suspicious.

Witness 1: Here lies the heart of Amy Winehouse.

Father: Amy was about one thing . . . and that was love.

Amy: Love is a losing game . . .

Reporter: Tragic Amy's world of pain.
£1,000 a day on a cocktail of drugs.

Sylvia Young: She changed schools at 15—I've heard it said
she was expelled; she wasn't. I'd never have expelled Amy.

Scotland Yard: Results of toxicology tests will take two
to four weeks, which help establish the cause of death.

Father: We're devastated and I'm
speechless, but thank you for coming.

Reporter: Amy Winehouse's tortured life was last
night laid bare by her stylist:

Stylist: Amy, you were a beautiful, shining light.
Too fragile, too beautiful, too big a talent for this world.

Mother: Amy's problem is always in my face.
If I want an update on what state she's in
I just have to turn on the television.

Witness 1: Here lies the heart of Amy Winehouse.

Mother: I knew I could turn on the TV and learn the worst.

Father: We're devastated and I'm
speechless, but thank you for coming.

Mother: She was never a bad child.
Amy will always be my little girl
sitting on the window singing.

Witness 1: Erratic, brash and out of control.

Mother: But it's not just the famous kids, is it?

Stylist: She was a supremely kind, modest, loving girl,
and I should know—I was her stylist.

Mother: I reached the stage with Amy where I planned
to ask her where she'd want to be buried.

Witness 2: We are fans and came to get a feel for the moment.

Father: We're devastated and I'm
speechless, but thank you for coming.

Witness 1: That scene where she throws dirt on her own grave
in 'Back to Black' . . .

Stylist: That video was tragically prophetic.

Reporter: The latest member of the 27 Club.

Stylist: She loved food.
I watched her as she swallowed
seven £300 wraps of heroin
before boarding the plane.

Witness 1: So huge, and yet so dark.

Stylist: At the heart of it, Amy
was simply a lovely, bubbly
Jewish girl who wanted to be loved.

Reporter: The Venn diagram of her appeal
was an endless series of bubbles.

Stylist: She was very generous.
She bought all the drugs.
At one point she was basically
sponsored by Haribo.

Witness 2: She spiralled out of control.

Stylist: Amy was addictive.
A real matriarch.

Reporter: Her sexuality wasn't a weapon.

Father: We're devastated and I'm
speechless, but thank you for coming.

Reporter: She hurt openly.
She made it okay
to be a talented woman
in the music industry.

Mother: But it's not just
the famous kids, is it?
Something like this eats
into the family. I've learned
to detach myself. It's what
you have to do or you'd
end up in pieces.

Stylist: She was happiest
when she was in the pub.
She was clearly a show-off
and an attention-seeker.

Reporter: Her sexuality
wasn't a weapon.

Stylist: We measured her dresses
using seven-year old girls.

Father: We're devastated and I'm
speechless, but thank you for coming.

Witness 1: She was a model neighbour.

Witness 2: She's just a fucking crack whore.

Witness 1: I didn't know her that well,
but she always seemed like such a nice girl.

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