White
MatchMaker
Shake The Dust
Peppa Pig's Picnic
Recipe for Life
The Giant and The Bear 
This two week development time is affectionately known as 'little gem', because it feels like a little gem of time where we (Abbi and Helen of RashDash) can - without pressure or panic- find out what it might be like to let some other artists into our process.
We have got to the point where it's clear that, although we'd like to be really good at writing plays - we're not. And that's ok. Although maybe a little bit painful. I think people may have been trying to tell us this for some time, but we needed to work it out ourselves. And we needed to fall out of love with the idea that by doing everything ourselves we could be superhuman theatre makers who excel in every area of making and performing with no need for anyone else. We can't. And that's ok. Although maybe a little bit painful. But also suddenly, and thankfully - very exciting.
So we've decided to spend two weeks with writer Alice Birch, and designer Sarah Beaton is joining us for the second week. And we're all young women. And so is Amy Letman from WYP who put us all together. Yesssssss.
And this is exciting.
And this is scary.
It's a big deal to do this. Partly because it means we have to work out what our process actually is - because we've only made five shows together and it changes all the time, and we mess up all the time - and we haven't made a show yet where we haven't scrapped everything and started again alarmingly close to show time. We have to work out what we do so that we can share it.
And it's scary because it means giving away some of the control.
The reason I was so persistent with the writing, even though it was so difficult and never good enough, was because I want to be in control of what we're saying - I want to say something that I think really matters and for that something to have come from me and my guts and my politics. (It was always joint, but I have to speak for myself here I think. Helen isn't so bothered about control maybe). And if the words are someone else's, then I lose that big important part of making - all that text, all that speaking - doesn't get to come from me. And one of the reasons this feels difficult is that what I do isn't tangible - it doesn't exist except in the moment - but what a writer does I can hold and have. And another reason it feels difficult is because when we see new work in this country - it's always the writing that's important. It's always the words that we talk about - and there is fund after fund and group after group for new writers - and that support and those opportunities don't really exist in the same way for what we do. Which is fine because we have made lots of friends in theatre who have been amazingly supportive and generous. But writers can get paid by a venue for making something that never sees the light of day - development time, failing time - investing in being creative, not necessarily the product. And we've never had that until now. And all this makes me wary of this amazing power words have. And sad that I don't have that power. And as I think it and as I write it I know that's silly - because what makes a show isn't any one person with any one skill, but lots of people bla bla bla - but it's what itfeelslike.
And also writers are clever aren't they? And dancers and performers aren't…
But I really love words and stories - and plays that have amazing words and stories - I love them and what they do to me. And I want that for what we make - because it could make it better. And for all my passion and guts and politics, people don't always understand what I'm trying to say - which is kind of a big problem, so I suppose we'd better work with someone who can help us with that.
Enter Alice Birch: SO talented, such a delicious way with words and character and story, and so gentle with us - with me. Her 'Little Light' is one of the best plays I've ever read and leaves me and Helen in tears - it reads like a novel in that 'page-turner' way, even though it is SO theatrical in its language and its images. And it's huge and enormous and important and moving.
So we began week one by talking about how we both work, and saying what we're scared of in this process of working together. She's used to 'sitting on her own and talking to herself', our way of creating a story is to sit in a room not talking to each other until someone's got an idea, which is great, because then we can get on with the fun bit of making. And then we jump about and roll on each other a bit and make a mess.
So we started by thinking about process, thinking about how we might try to make offerings and respond to each other. What happens if we start with movement? And then we bounce off what Alice sees and thinks and writes? And then we move some more? And then-
But we realised that for us - the only way to work out how we might make a show with a writer, was to try and make a show with a writer.
So we've wallpapered rehearsal room two at WYP with things we're interested in - and newspaper articles and copies of plays that we like and we've made a start. It's been slow - but really fabulous. We've all been very gentle with each other, getting to know each other, trying to balance how we value and use what we all do in equal measure.
So in true RashDash style we've settled on a theme- a world we want to make a show about, and that world is the military and (surprisingly) women in the military and women and violence. And in true Alice Birch style we've been approaching that world through character - finding those people through stream of consciousness writing, through research, through music.
But what's amazing is that Alice hasn't come in and tried to teach us anything (maybe because she's young, maybe because that's not who she is), but we've both been making offerings as to how we come up with a show based one what it is we're good at. And I think that at the heart of this experiment and this playtime is a real mutual respect - we are in awe of Alice's way with words and how articulate she can be - and I think she really respects what we do with movement/dance/image and how articulate we can be. And we appreciate that our different forms can tell different elements of our story. So we've done as much moving as writing - we've done as much with images and costume as with text - and it feels like we're writing and making a show at the same time, but that doesn't feel wrong. And if we'd simply asked Alice to write us a play I think I'd be scared of her and her magical powers, but discovering the story and the moments and the world together feels good.
Friday was the first day we made something. We chose an image that came from a list of pictures we can see on a stage when we think about the show. Two women in army combats dancing together in one of their tiny dorm rooms. I think that came from Helen but I don't know and it doesn't matter. And we put on some music and some costume, and we made a dorm room from costume rails and chairs - and Helen and I improvised with movement - and Alice wrote. And it was proper exciting. And the words are really good.
In the past sharing has always meant giving a bit of what I already have away. But in this case - the bit that I already have miraculously gets bigger every time I give a bit to someone else. Which is wicked. Can't wait for Sarah to arrive…
Abbi