Venus As A Boy

Actor and dramatist Tam Dean Burn's latest project plays at the Traverse throughout August – it's his own adaptation of the acclaimed 2004 novel by Luke Sutherland, Venus As A Boy. When The Skinny contacted Dean Burn for an interview, we found him happy to launch into topics as diverse as sex, politics and creativity, to try and emphasise the scope of the work, which is a collaboration with author/musician Sutherland - who provides live musical accompaniment - and the National Theatre of Scotland.

Venus As A Boy seeks to synthesise these issues with bold, honest storytelling and a deep conviction on Dean Burn's part that everything about the project was, quite simply, meant to be. "I feel like I've been chosen to tell this story, I really do," he says, as he describes the genesis of the project. A short introduction to each performance familiarises the audience with this process, focusing on the experiences of Dean Burn, Sutherland and, crucially, an anonymous male prostitute, who was known by various pseudonyms including Cupid and who died, aged 36, in London, before the novel was published.

Before his death, this mysterious figure posted a set of recordings to Sutherland, in which he claimed to have known the author at high school, when both lived in Orkney. He remembered bullying Sutherland, he said, because of his skin colour – Sutherland is black – and then he continued, in a singularly powerful deathbed confession, to relate a fascinating life story. It is this tale which Sutherland, and now Dean Burn, retell in Venus As A Boy.

Along the way, the central character dissects the racist, bullying undercurrent in his own past of which he is so ashamed. And yet, this is pushed to the background as Cupid discovers that he possesses a near-magical gift for sexual love. He decides to make this central in his life, even hoping to use it, through an array of erotic encounters, to find himself. But moving south to Ullapool, Glasgow and Edinburgh, then finally to London, he winds up in "the grungiest of circumstances," says Dean Burn, "working as a rent boy in Soho." He is victimised and trampled upon, even as he continues to bring "these extraordinary effects," to everyone he touches, "even with the lightest kissing or stroking – it's a divine form of sex."

The story is partly a plea for Sutherland's forgiveness, says Dean Burn, but it also looks for tolerance from audiences. He frequently mentions one of his heroes, poet and mystic William Blake, during our interview, and explains: "It was a quote from Blake that I put in the intro – 'The glory of Christianity is to conquer by forgiveness'. When I read that, I just thought it's such a mind-blowing concept. It's just, in this day and age, the way that religion's generally taken, it's so unforgiving. And the whole way that society's built is based on not forgiving."

Audiences, he claims, have responded well so far to that aspect of the narrative – its honesty: "People value the fact that he admits to these things, this racist thread in him." It makes for a complex audience relationship with Cupid, but that, Dean Burn continues, is precisely the point. "The big thing that Luke Sutherland says is that life is much more complicated than is usually made out, especially on things like the telly, and we need to embrace these complications and contradictions and explore them. That's what the piece is trying to do, to throw up questions more than provide answers."

On a personal, artistic note, Dean Burn confides, it has worked the same way: he's learned lessons, too. "It's given me the opportunity to discover more about myself," he says. "That's the beauty of running with things in theatre, rather than in film or TV, is that you get the chance to ritualise it and go through it, and it becomes part of your system. And change happens as well, you're able to come out a better person."

As Cupid tells his story he is turning slowly into solid gold. This strange death, after the magic of his sexual caresses, continues the story's strong vein of myth. It might also symbolise Dean Burn and Sutherland's personal commitment to preserving the life story of this dead prostitute. For them, honouring the original tale is crucial and that's why, on their tour, performances occur in the same stops outlined in Sutherland's novel. "We do feel that it's something more than just a good story," Dean Burn says. "The novel itself was a memorial piece, a memorial event. And I thought, well, a live memorial, rather than just a play, commemorating this guy and what he was attempting to do for people."