I’ve 3 hours to kill and I didn’t bring a book.
I’ve completed The Guardian, scrolled all of Instagram, even got my work e-mails nearly up to date and so, as a last resort, I’m writing a blog post.
At 7:30pm tonight I’ll be performing my third solo storytelling show, for the first time, as a it’s-nearly-done-work-in progress in the cellar of the Lawrence Batley Theatre, to an audience of paying public.
It’s a terrifying and weirdly exhilarating thing performing a show for the first time. I remember when it was my first solo show I felt sick for 3 days prior to the show and became obsessive about the gaffer tape on the set looking pristine to try and distract myself. The second show debuted in West Wales in a theatre above a library and I was certain no-one would come, but my worry was focused by an extraordinary high stage and a genuine worry that I’d fall off in the blackout. This one is much more relaxed – I suspect because I’m older and experience teaches you that audiences won’t be bothered by how pristine gaffer tape is.
I did a run through this morning with, for the first time, another living person in the room (the very brilliant technician here who is incredible). Performing to empty chairs and a man hunched over a book looking for lighting cues maybe isn’t the best, but, apart from an impromptu phone call half way through, I got through it and thought, maybe this is okay.
The show is broadly similar to my last show – multiple storylines, set in the past and present, that converge towards the end, joining dots and landing a gentle emotive punch (I hope). It’s more meandering perhaps – the last one had the structure of the pandemic to work around, whereas this is less precise and maybe more whimsical. There’s a few bits I know I’ll need to change and update before it goes on tour (if tonight goes well). There’s a voice-over element that I tried to record in a rustic way that, actually, on reflection, doesn’t quite work. A few cues could do with being slightly restructured (I suspect) and I think I’m missing a cue – but that it’s one that’s relatively unimportant.
I make my shows on my own. Everything from writing and music, to video design and literally days spent setting up Show Cue Systems (a poor man’s QLab), is me. It’s really rewarding, but it’s also insulating – I’m cocooned in with my opinions and thoughts – it means I get to work at my pace and find what works and what doesn’t, but, it’s also a little lonely. You can feel disconnected and slightly removed. What’s been lovely about being in Huddersfield is that they’ve given me space to rehearse, I’ve chatted to their team and they’re all so enthusiastic about what I do – the phrase “oh, we’ll be coming to see the show on Wednesday” leaves you warm and fuzzy.
I’m expecting around 20 people to see it – which, if you’re a long-time follower of my work is a massive improvement on previous tours. But crucially I’ll get to find out what works and what doesn’t. I’m not filming the show this time round – I was going to but then my camera looked a bit crap and it’s really tough to get the sound and visuals right without all the kit – but might try to at some point in the future.
So yeah.. That’s it really. Fingers crossed it’ll be good – if it’s good enough to tour I’ll follow up in another post.