Review: How I Learned to Swim

At once harrowing and humorous, How I Learned to Swim – the debut from playwright Somebody Jones – sees 30-year-old Jamie, played by Frankie Hart, take on swimming lessons. Diving deep into Black people’s relationship with water, Jones interweaves African myth and family bonds in this poignant drama. 

As a one-woman show, Hart stuns. Interludes of storytelling takes Jamie’s story into the open and Hart’s assured adaptiveness marks a true talent. High octane and electric, the performance rarely sinks, although a subdued beat or two would be welcome. At times, soft, intimate moments are quickly undercut with a witty line and it’s a shame not to allow this vulnerability to rest easy under the layered blue light. As the narrative progresses, however, Jones gives us Jamie’s guilt, her regret, and lets it float with us. 

White tiled, a poolside takes centre stage. It serves as an inventive focal point, allowing Hart to navigate upon and around it with control; wavelike, then still, then twisting in distress, her body moves with the play and it is a wonder to witness. Water sounds come thick and fast – sometimes too thick, too fast. However, in its subtle suffocation, the audio returns us to Jamie’s water-born anxieties. From there, Jamie, and ourselves, learn to swim: it’s a story of perseverance and love, and one that pulls us with it, gently and then all at once.