At the centre of many Samoan homes lies the fala – a woven mat, passed between hands, across generations. It carries memory, it speaks of care, and it holds space for ceremony, conflict, grief and celebration. In A Master of None: Brown Fala, this sacred practice of weaving becomes the central metaphor for a bold, choral performance work that unravels and rethreads what it means to belong – especially when that belonging is fractured by silence, power and diaspora.
Set against the backdrop of Samoan communal life, Brown Fala draws together a cabinet of Pacific voices – singing, speaking and moving in layered harmony. The ensemble traverses gospel, R&B, traditional choral forms, and spoken word theatre to create a richly textured soundscape of memory and resistance.
But this is not just a celebration. It is also a reckoning.
The work confronts the harm caused by misguided leadership – within systems, within communities, and within ourselves. It asks: what happens when those meant to protect us use power to wound instead? When silence becomes a coping mechanism, a weapon, or a cage? Whether inherited, enforced or chosen, silence – this piece tells us – can be deadly.
With threads of lament and rage, tenderness and humour, Brown Fala speaks directly to the experience of Pacific people who live between homelands and host lands, faith and frustration, duty and disillusionment. Yet, even as it grieves, it also rejoices. Because in the act of weaving, there is healing. In the collective voice, there is power. And in returning to our own stories, there is freedom.
At its heart, A Master of None: Brown Fala is a deeply personal and profoundly communal offering. A tribute to the mat, the memory, and the voices who will not be silenced.