All the way from South London, the illustrious Sarah D (writer, director, dramaturg) writes a response to my melancholy Schulzcloud.
It deserves its own piece of sky (such as it is under the kitey header). And my thanks. Pockets of possibility on this autumn afternoon.
“With theatre you have to catch characters caught in a drama. Those with dramatic, eccentric and marginalised youths, it can seem, have more to draw on, than those of us whose greatest drama was a brief flirtation with an eating disorder at aged 18 and a failure to get into Oxford University (great dramas at the time, predicatably normal, not to mention privileged, we find out). Audiences and the industry have an insatiable hunger for the new…. a new voice, a new experience, a new perspective. Those who experience extreme conflict first hand and have a gift will trasmute this utter understanding into art and we will step back breathless at the extremity of the experience.
“We falter. In the light of this what could we possibly have to say?
“But I think writing for theatre is about a number of things: 1. the craft of the storyteller, 2. a uniqueness of voice 3. having stories that you burn to tell 4. having an utter passion for humanity (to name but a few).
“We do not need to be marginalised to have these things, but we do need to accept the seriousness of the endeavour. We have to think of our relationship to our audiences, our relationship to our world in general. We have to think of our intention when we create. Whatever that might be. And we must be passionate and curious.
“And sometimes, in times of pleasure and purpose, the only story we wish to tell is a gentle one of ourselves witnessing the world transform itself. It is a story told to an audience of one, staring deep into our eyes.
“Thereby comes the hope at the story’s conclusion, and the pockets of possibility when the conflicts fall away.
“It’s a story that will be told many times in many moments in many tales: dark and amiable alike.”