Originally published in Cue.
It’s only the first night of Festival and it’s already bitterly cold. “Do you mind if we do this outside? I’m dying for a cigarette,” Godfrey Johnson asks apologetically before ushering us out the side door of this bowls club turned performance venue.
“You know,” he says, lighting the cigarette, “it feels like just the other day. Isn’t that bizarre?” It’s been a year since I last interviewed him, and the energetic cabaret performer gets straight into it.