Changing a space for ever 

A performance can change a space for ever. When ‘engagement and creative arts warrior’ Rachel Sharpe said words to this effect, I was struck by the truth of it. Having toured Idle Women of the Wartime Waterways to venues unused to hosting performances, I knew what she was getting at.

A good example is the Wildside Activity Centre in Wolverhampton, alongside the Staffs & Worcs Canal. The room was laid out for us to perform against the short wall of their rectangular space, the ‘top’ of the room – a wall cluttered with displays and other bits and pieces – but we chose the long wall which had several windows. We asked for the chairs to be arranged in a wide arc so that people could see us more easily, and we drew the curtains which created a simple dark backdrop without distractions. The organisers had never hosted a theatrical show before and were very accommodating. At the end of the evening, the Centre’s Project Leader, Steve, looked up at the strip lights and commented that for future events of this nature, it would be good to improve the lighting to make it more atmospheric. So a space previously seen only as an ‘activity room’ now has an added dimension as a theatre, and the success of our show has encouraged them to put on more events of this nature.

Wildside Activity Centre, Wolverhampton


There are other venues where we didn’t feel as if our hosts had noticed that they could easily have done more to give us a quiet space where we wouldn’t have to compete with, for example, the ring of a till or loud conversation. A pub which hasn’t hosted theatre before won’t necessarily have realised that it’s not appropriate to book people in to have a meal during the show. It may not occur to them that clattering cutlery and the necessity to communicate over dinner orders is not ideal for audience and artists alike! Some hosts will have taken things like this on board for the future and others not.

Not only does a performance change the space, but the audience changes the performance. A large responsive audience in a compact space gives a virtual sounding board which lifts us. Concentration was harder when we had: a sprawling audience with people chatting at the back, a bloke in the second row holding up a device to take photos or a video, wandering and/or barking dogs, a drunken woman (who was really enjoying the show), a man in a loud shirt whose phone had a very loud ringtone …. Every performance feels different and has its own quirks, not least because of the venue and the audience, and taking theatre to non-arts spaces means working round all sorts of inconveniences whilst hoping to develop use of that space and raise awareness of how arts events can work well in community venues.

Some people have come to see our show at least twice and have said it’s even better the second time, which is good to know! Tomorrow night we’re at Theatre in the Dock in Banbury when there will be a special announcement about our exciting plans for 2017. Next year there will be opportunities for our show to have an impact on new spaces, as we take audiences into another world where much of their surroundings are imagined: the back of a boat, a pub, a lock, the towpath, top planks, tarpaulin, sirens, doodlebugs … and lots of women!

For details of our forthcoming London shows and for more information, go to the Alarum Theatre website.

The wrong word!

I write a tiny poem, decide to share it in a blog, spend ages writing a description of the tiny poem for the blog, agonise over one word in the tiny poem, find the perfect word, tell myself to stop dithering, post the poem, immediately look again at the poem and add a comma and a full stop, chide myself for concentrating so hard on one word that I neglected the punctuation. Go to a meeting, come back from the meeting, look at the tiny poem, see the word in all its dullness and think No! After all that hunting through the thesaurus, being sure I had it, I chose the wrong word! Another much better word pops straight into my head. I’m cautious this time. Has this new word been sent to fool me into a false sense of security? Wait. Do something else. Look again at the tiny poem. Have a meal. Look again at the tiny poem. Go to bed thinking, if I still like the new word tomorrow, it’s in. Next day, edit the tiny poem (about sausages, for goodness sake!) to include the new word. 

Is it really that important? Yes it is. The tiny poem is no masterpiece, but I will not leave it languishing with the wrong word. In fact the first word I chose was ‘languish’, which then became ‘beefy’. If you really care about my tiny poem and the difference one word can make, you could go back and look at the shiny new word. You may think Pah! Why did she bother? You may not look at all, having far better things to do, or you may be a poet who knows exactly what I’ve been going through.

Free range sausages

Free range sausages

My haiku about sausages was inspired by a conversation in a pub restaurant. On the menu were ‘free range sausages’, conjuring up images of happy little sausages growing up in relative freedom before ending up on a dinner plate. One of our party had a poetic description of how he likes his gravy, hence this:

Free range sausages,
bullish on mash, with descent-
controlled gravy.

© Heather Wastie

I’ve got lots of performances coming up. Here’s a link to my DIARY which, as I type, needs updating so you’ll have to look past the old dates!