Kathy Caton: on spaces and places, gentrification, and community

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Hi, I'm David Sheppeard. And I'm Roni Guetta and this is My Queer Museum, a podcast and a collection of local queer stories that haven't made it into a museum yet, but will hopefully make history. Well, I love a bit of local queer historical gossip, Roni, so tell me a little bit more. Well, we have asked some of our favourite queer people in Brighton and Hove which objects would they put in a queer museum if there was one. And these are their stories. Hi Cathy, thank you for joining us today. It is a pleasure and a privilege to see you in the actual real life flesh. Yeah, it is. It is actually really great to see you in person. Just a bit of a backstory. We have been sitting here for about half an hour whinging about capitalism, but that's for a different podcast.

Yes. Which will no doubt will be very exciting. Cathy, would you like to introduce yourself for our listeners? Yeah, so my name is Cathy Caton. I am one of those people who has what's euphemistically known as a portfolio career. So I do a couple of things. I make Brighton Gin. I'm also a radio producer and presenter and all round general banger of a drum for all things LGBTQ+. Icon. So Cathy, we have brought you here today because we would like you to make some selections from your life to put into our imaginary queer museum, our palatial imaginary queer museum that can contain anything, any of your queer imaginings, items, belongings that you can think of. So if it's OK with you, we would like you to introduce us to your first object, story, thought, concept that you would like in our queer museum.

Excellent. The first thing that I want to put in the museum, which I hope will be on everybody's selection list, is I want to put a time capsule. So a version of this place that no longer exists, I want to put the Marlborough Pub and Theatre in. It has played the most fundamental part in my own life in the fabric of this city. And certainly for any LGBTQ person who's who's been here for longer than a few minutes, they will have encountered it in some way or the other, even if it's only once a year dancing in the street, looking at the pavilion at the end of Pride. It's been, yeah, an extraordinary place. Well, I thought I was going to cry there because I ran the Marlborough for 10 years. But what can you tell me a little bit about what your first memory of the Marlborough is?

If you've got a kind of like, when did you first visit it? What was your... So I went there for an extremely nerve wracking pint, quite a few nerve wracking pints, long before I was properly out. I had come out and gone back in again, you know, in that classic way of people who were at school during Section 28. It's all a bit tricky, to say the least. And but it was a place I used to used to hang out actually before I actually came out or got dragged out more likes than came out. But so it's a place that I've been to in all sorts of different phases of my life. What do you have a kind of favourite memory, I think, of like a pride memory or a thing that you that you kind of springs to mind when you first think about it?

Well, I've had some... Well, I find it very hard to talk about the Marlborough without getting very emotional. I've also had some ridiculous experiences there. You know, that time when you just bump into all of the people that you don't need to bump into? Yeah. I've made amazing friends through performances that I've been to go and see. So whether it's hanging out with, you know, Lorraine Bowen or Boogaloo Stew, having the real privilege to get to meet David Hoyle a couple of times. And that kind of thing of actually there's something about this, the space that broke down the barrier between performer and audience. And also the fact that, you know, somewhere to go and have a pint and a packet of crisps and read GCN or read 360 or one of the magazines that no longer exists.

And, yeah, check people out. It was definitely, it felt for a long time, like a sort of, yeah, a kind of container for your queer life or for everyone's queer lives in the city in some ways. And me and Roni have strange relationships with it because we both lived there for periods of time. We both witnessed some dead pigeons stuck in the netting. And I think that's what created it really. Symbolic. Yeah. But really, I want to get behind you on this sort of feeling quite emotional when I think about the Marlboro. And really ties in with the gossip and chat we were having before we started recording about, yeah, capitalism and spaces. And how we're really missing spaces at the moment. And it's not just because of COVID, you know, since the Marlboro is closed, I cannot think about a pub that I can go to on my own for a quick drink or a packet of crisps where I'll just definitely 100% meet someone that I know without, you know, planning it.

Or meet someone that I don't know but that are going to be friendly. And I think there is a great need for spaces like that. Absolutely. And I think there's, I mean, well, I suppose it all remains to be seen, doesn't it, how things rebuild if they do rebuild and then what kind of shape out of this. But I think there's something about a place that can have all of those different functions, somewhere, which I think was what was so magical about it. And it's sort of, you know, beautifully crumbly facade, sort of the great dowager crumbling outside. That thing that you could go and see an amazing piece of absolutely bonkers expressive dance, but then also go and do a quiz downstairs. Or just that thing of I'm going to go in and see who I bump into or I'm going to go in by myself and comfortably have a drink by myself in a queer space, which is something that I could not and did not do as a young person.

Yeah. Or not purchase a drink, go and have a soda water if you're not a drinker and still be welcome in the space. Absolutely, there is all of that. Exactly. Love those six hour soda water drinkers. Yeah. Yes, exactly. Nothing says thriving pub business. Any shows that comes to mind as, you know, a show where you've had an epiphany or, oh my God, so, so many. I remember seeing you after Harry's show, after Harry's, when Harry Clayton Wright did Sex Education, which was the show that ended up touring nationally and a bit internationally as well. And just seeing you on the stairs walking down after that show and just looking at, I think you may have had, you perhaps had a tear in the eye. I'm a terrible blubber.

There would have been a lot of crying, I think. But looking at us and I think we just had that moment of recognition of just like, yeah, dads. Yeah, absolutely. Absolutely. Yes, that was an extraordinary piece. And at times, lucky enough to be judging the LGBTQ awards for the fringe. It was like, that's absolutely, that is completely and utterly the winner of things. And that to be able to feel such, I don't know, connection within a space, that whole, and I think also at the moment, so missing that thing of a shared experience in a communal space. That's, yes, super, super powerful and shocking and extremely entertaining. And I think that's probably a theme through some of the shows that I've seen there.

Yeah.

So there used to be, I mean, this is a really long time ago. I think, was it the, oh, Eric Page used to host a night a long, long, long time ago. Yeah. With all sorts of kind of emerging people trying out comedy for the first time and performance. And quite a lot of it was really ropey. But I really loved the fact that not only are these people willing to give it a go and stand up and try and do their first thing. But it was, you know, there was a platform, a literal platform to do it. Absolutely brilliant. I think it's like, I like learning about the Marlborough, which I didn't even know when I took it on. And we took the theatre on in particular, which was like 2009, was that I didn't know at the time that all of these people, like 15, 20 years beforehand, had had their like first performance experiences there.

And I didn't, you know, I knew it was a lesbian, predominantly a lesbian space when we took it on in terms of the pub. And we really tried to respect that as much as possible. But in terms of the theatre, it was kind of happening on the fact that, you know, Eric had maybe been there five years beforehand. And then actually 15 years beforehand, like Robert Bassetti, who ended up running a big festival and was a big kind of international artist, did his first degree show there. And it has something about its sort of queer DNA that like lots of people tried out lots of funny things there, or sad things. And, you know, all this kind of AIDS activist theatre that happened there in the early 90s, that it's always, by accident, has always been, had its kind of connection or kind of bond with that, with queer performance.

This is, well, the pub wasn't always necessarily a queer pub. So it's incredible to think that the theatre above it always somehow attracted. Yeah, and I think it's got just the history of it, you know, all of the different incarnations that it's had, which may be apocryphal, but I want to believe them anyway. Because, you know, I love the idea of this being a Molly house. Yeah, that famous, terrible lie about Virginia Woolf and Peter Sackville West were meant to have had their, conduct some of their affair above there, which was actually a lie. I would have loved that, though. But I love the fact that, I mean, a lot of queer history is based on gossip. And I think that's like the kind of currency of our community.

Yeah, and saying things enough times, they become true. Yeah. Well, it also shows a sort of, it's also quite sad because it shows how much we want to have some history, that we're willing to make it up and imagine it and reimagine it and then attach it to the spaces that we love. Yeah, God love the Marlborough and all who sail in her. I feel like we have a whole separate podcast called... Marlborough Tales. Yeah, Tales of the Marlborough, where we can interview people and their experiences around it. Absolutely. There's a whole history of the queer community there. Totally. And I think, you know, she's been up and down on her luck so many different times. You know, she's been around the block a few times.

Yeah. And I had all of these different incarnations. And, but it is a place I hold so incredibly dear to my heart for all sorts of different reasons. Many shenanigans have been had in the Marlborough. So in this museum, I'm picturing in my head that there's like a kind of sort of beautifully created little model of the Marlborough. I'm thinking of the model where the lights come on at night. You press the button and the lights come on and you can see in each of the different rooms there's some sort of... And then you press the lights again and someone has a fight just under the window. Yeah, exactly. Or, oh God, the scream off. Yeah. And the bloody squabbles over the pool table. Oh. That was a contentious space.

Contentious space, yeah. Yeah. Ah, thank you so much for bringing this first object. I just, it's... We could talk for probably 17 hours on the Marlborough. Yeah, excellent. But I feel like, yeah, I feel like that is a beautiful one for me. Number two in your list of object stories, memories, concepts. What else would you like to put into our queer museum? So now it's going to be, so it's sort of associated but very much in the present. And it's another place. It's a place called the Bedford Tavern, which is by Embassy Court just off the seafront. So it's another pub, another community space, genuinely a community space. And that's why I want to put it in there. It's tiny. It would fit in the back pocket of the Marlborough.

But the people who run it, what they have, what they are able to do and achieve through basically a backstreet boozer is absolutely phenomenal. It is, that's a place to go and have a drink by yourself and be, you always meet some nice dogs in there. Always nice dogs. But it's incredibly friendly, welcoming. Their community support that they do. So in any normal year, they, for example, organise the drag races at Easter Weekend. There is thousands and thousands of pounds to go to the Rainbow Fund. But they really look after the people for whom that pub is their family, is their friends' networks. So there are considerably older people who are there kind of particularly earlier during the week.

And that is their social network, their support. When those customers haven't been able to go there during COVID because the whole thing has been shut, they've continued to do things like cook Sunday lunches and take them and deliver them to people. And just, it's a family. And I'm getting terribly serious with all my subjects. But I think one of the things that can be so missing for all of the obvious reasons with queer lives actually is family. And they are providing something that is as strong as any traditional family unit that I've ever seen. It's absolutely a brilliant, brilliant place that also looks after its customers in their 80s and 90s. And when I first started going there, there used to be a pair of old chaps.

And now there's only one of the old chaps. And it's like, ow, that's... But the fact that he's still going and still looked, completely looked after by going down to... It's a place where there is, you know, new cabaret actor trying out and doing stuff. These ridiculously talented 20-year-olds who are just doing this absolutely brilliant stuff in a very small, safe, warm space. I guess the thing that kind of jumps out at me is just how the kind of character and value of a space is held by the people that are managing it. And the community that kind of chooses to use it or it creates a safe space for. And that kind of felt similar with the Marlborough. Is that it can go through regime changes and it kind of falls in and out of favour.

And it also says a lot about how precarious our queer history is. Because it's all based around, yeah, our kind of social experiences in these spaces that are commercial spaces. And that are just very volatile and very at the will of like the forces of whatever's going on. Of the market really and whatever is going on, yeah. Absolutely, absolutely. And I think that that's, you know, looking around town at our queer spaces now, it's actually quite a lot of these look under real threat. Threat of landlords who don't care too much. Or, you know, obviously we're in a position where people haven't been, for extremely good reasons, able, willing to go out and socialise and use these spaces and actually keep them alive.

Because the space is made by the people in it. But, and I think that, yeah, things are easily lost. And I think that's the interesting thing about Brighton as somewhere that has so many pubs that have been through so many different incarnations is that you can even see that from the 50s and 60s. If you look at like the Hot Poles, which was the spotted dog, which was the very famous gay bar on Middle Street, wasn't it? And that that is like, you know, there's legends of the spotted dog and of what happened there. But you can kind of wonder if you project yourself 50 years forwards, if people are going to be saying that about the Bedford Tavern and that it will have several other layers. Well, you don't need to look 50 years back.

I think gentrification is really speeding now because I look at Brighton 10 years ago when I moved here. And the reason a single pub that I used to go to that still exists. And it's, it's a lot, you know, it's, it's quite fast 10 years. And those were pubs that maybe didn't make a lot of money and were more, you know, community spirited and maybe were pubs that, you know, had live music in them. And so, yeah, I think it's, it's a very interesting conversation to have about spaces in our community and how vulnerable it makes us when all of our spaces are responding to the logic of the market. We don't have anything that can exist regardless to the income it generates. So Elton John, Ian McKellen, if you're listening to this podcast, could someone please buy a couple of gay pubs, queer spaces down here that we can just...

They do not need to generate enough income to pay rent. It's a tax write-off. Yeah, come on. There's bound to be an advantage for you to do it. I'm trustworthy, I promise. But absolutely, and I think, yeah, and those things, one, as we see time and time again, and you're absolutely right about what happens with gentrification. Because when things are gone, they're gone. No matter what, all of the talk, poor hand-in-hand goes, oh, no, it won't change, it'll be fine. Something else will come and replace it. Those things don't, don't happen. Or don't seem to happen. So look after your venues, look after your community spaces. Visit the Bedford Tavern, which I haven't for a long time, I have to say.

I really want to go for a pint now. Can I just ask you very briefly about the drag, the drag, what is it, the drag races? Yes. The drag races. The egg and spoon race. Yes, they have, they're viciously competitive. And I, for my sins, I have taken part once or twice, which I've instantly regretted having said yes to, in some perilously tight trousers, which inhibited my movement, say the least. But yes, there are various obstacle, obstacle courses up and down the pub at the bottom of Norfolk Square. There's an egg and spoon and various, yeah, challenges to be completed. But it goes down Western Street, which comes from Norfolk Square, down towards the sea. The clue is down towards the sea. There's actually quite a hill.

And every year there's some major toppling of somebody statuesque in extremely tall hills. Yeah, I witnessed the high heel incident. Yeah. They look, they really, really hurt. I'm quite, was very glad to be in the drag king category and therefore in a sensible shoe, always a good thing. Flat shoe. I love a bit of self-generated gay pageantry ritual though, where it's like, yeah, if, especially when it's around sporting things, which I think are these sort of moments of like. Reclaim our ride. Yeah, reclaim our ride for the sport. Yes, exactly. Make it camp. Totally. They've been really, really traumatic for lots of people. But yeah, so exactly, we'd make it, make it something completely different.

I love it. It is very ritualistic, isn't it? It's, it's ceremonial. And yeah, I really enjoyed it when I, you were, you were competing when I came to see the show. Competing. Very, very loose. Yeah, loose. Very loose. Oh, well, that's, thank you, Cathy. That's a, yeah, Bedford Tavern. Hold on to these spaces. They are important. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Shall we move on to your. Object number three. Final, final thing. Yeah, so I'm really, I have really, those first two were very easy to identify. And the third has been very difficult. It, so there was a, there was a short list of, of things. There was a Tranfrau badge. There were ticket stubs to a gazillion different gigs where you suddenly go, oh my God, my life is reflected. Maybe it is going to be okay after all. And then the last thing that I've ended up with is a, I have a pair of tiny, quite tight now, pink corduroy shorts, which have been worn to every Brighton Pride that I've ever been to. They have, they get a second outing on the Sunday outside the Marlborough for the, for the street party.

And they've been to, yeah, they've been to many different prides and queer celebrations around and about the place. And every year, I mean, they're pretty thin as well. The corduroy has worn, has worn out. You can see my Wonder Woman knickers through them, basically. And every year there's a bit of a, can I, can I still get into these things? Where did you get your corduroy shorts from? And where was the first time, first time you wore it, if you can remember? I can remember. I bought them in Sydney and it was the very first time that I went to Mardi Gras. I will let you know how long ago it was because at the time there were, there were at least 150 Monica Lewinsky's marching in the, in the Mardi Gras parade,

wearing their, their various blue dresses with some obscene splashes upon them. And that was their first, their first outing. So yeah, they've been to a lot of ridiculous parties all over the place. Sounds great. And what do you, I think, what was kind of, what were other people around you wearing at that point? What was happening in your kind of lesbian kind of fashion circle? Well, I think, so the first, so probably the first time I wore them in Brighton was for Pride, where Radio Reverb, who were also on my contender list for, for things that should be preserved for, for the rest of time. They, it was when they had a, the first time they had a float, which for some idiotic reason, I was nominated to be a dancer for, don't know if you've ever seen me dance.

It's not a thing you'd necessarily, it's expressive. Who nominated you? Idiots who'd never seen me dance. I know at the time it's like, yeah, this is fine, without actually taking, taking into account. The dancing bit. The dancing bit. How long it is. The fact you're on a flat, flat bed truck with a very, very loopy sound system for hours. Oh, those sound rules. Those, yeah. Yeah. Six songs for three hours. Yeah, absolutely. And if you're lucky, it's hot, but then it's too hot. And if you're unlucky, you're in the rain. And it's kind of a lose-lose situation, really. Completely, completely. And there's no subtle hopping off that to run off for a wee or anything, anything like that. So. First half hour is fantastic.

Completely. Yeah. And they're getting ready to set off. Yeah. But then it's the, yes, it's, I think it's that thing going, oh God, actually there are hours of this to go. And you've got to dig out your showbiz smile from somewhere. You've got your corduroy shorts on. Corduroy shorts. Everyone in really tiny reverb muscle vests. Such a thing existed. This is quite a long time ago. What year was this, Catherine? I need to try and work it out, actually. It must be early 2000s, maybe. I don't know. 2006, something like that, maybe. Yeah. So quite a lot of muscle vests. And inexplicably some really uncomfortable face masks that dug into our sweaty faces as time went on. It must have been the year of superheroes or supervillains, something like that.

But, yeah, there's a lot of dancing in front of thousands of people in tiny shorts. Was it your first Brighton Pride? First in terms of marching, yes. So that really kind of sticks in the memory. And also because the gang, the ridiculous gang of other dancers and DJs and Egypts, I are still amongst my best friends. Was Melita Dennett in there somewhere, if I don't know? Melita Dennett was in there, not in a muscle top, it should be pointed out. And not dancing. And not dancing. Not in pink shorts. No pink shorts. All black. Excellent. But, yeah. And running the show. And, again, to what's been dug out 10 years later to host the Reverb stage at Pride, which had some, you know, great noisy bands on.

Never, of course, invited back to put the noisy bands on. But, you know, did it one year. Yeah. Worth it for that. Yeah. Fab. Well, we've got these pink shorts. They're on a Cathy-shaped mannequin in a glass case. If it could be from the early 2000s, the shape of mannequin, that would be great. Yeah. You have a tan from Sydney in this mannequin. That's fine. This is getting better. Yeah. Excellent. And I think they are preserved for the ages. Yeah. So, thank you so much, Cathy, for sharing your three entries to our queer museum. We are still committed to building this. Yeah. One day we'll exist. But in our minds... Again, you know, if you want to put that call out to Elton John. Yeah. We have another spare building in Brighton.

Yeah, we'll put a museum in it. Yeah. But thank you so much. And we love you masses and love everything that you do. And thank you for being on our podcast. Thank you so much. It's an absolute honour to be asked. And I hope I haven't left any lasting damage with the image of the pink shorts. I'm loving it.

Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much.

Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thank you so much. Thanks for listening. The My Queer Museum podcast is a Queer Heritage South project created by Marlborough Productions and supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

For more information about our work visit queerandbrighton.co.uk. Original music and editing by Olive Mondegreen.