 Image description - three portraits of disabled women. From top clockwise is Bea Webster a woman of dual heritage, Thai and Scottishwho wears pantomine make up with rosy cheeks, heavy eyeshadow and bright lips. She wears a dressing gown with a towel on her hair and is holding a sign saying 'Best Panto Ever'. Then there is Lisette Auton, a white woman with long brown hair, smiling and wearing a green t-shirt with dungarees. Finally is Miss Jacqui, a black woman with shoulder length afro hair and thin rimmed glasses. She is wearing a light pink hoody against a background of green leaves. As part of Staging Our Futures, a programme made possible by Arts Council England's Emergency Response Fund, Little Cog created three incredible commission opportunities for three incredibly talented disabled artists - Bea Webster, Lisette Auton and Miss Jacqui.
The time has come to share this new work in a live online premiere on 1 November at 5.00pm - who doesn't love a Sunday tea time treat? Bea Webster shares Dame Bevvy Crusher's Most Extraordinary Guide to Writing the Best Pantomime Ever, tbh. Miss Jacqui shares What A Year It's Been, and Lisette Auton shares Writing/Righting The Missing - A Choose Your Own Erasure Story R&D Little Cog's Artistic Director, Vici Wreford-Sinnott, dreamt up the Staging Our Futures programme as the company's response to completely unchartered territory. Vici says, "We knew the world had changed overnight, that everything was going to be different as we moved forward through the crisis for the arts and theatre. As disabled creatives we know how hard the fight has been over four decades to create an accessible and equitable arts envrionment. We didn't want to see the progress that had been made, also disappear overnight." The company knew it was time to stabilise, to be visible and to create opportunities for other disabled artists. Little Cog has always been strategic in it's approach to equality in theatre and this programme needed to have a range of elements. Vici continued, "As a company we knew we needed to create new work to challenge the narrative which had quickly developed around disabled people as a kind of blanket of vulnerability, as inactive and passive recipients of care. We're a vibrant group of individuals, living complex, interesting lives, and yes there are massive challenges in our society, many obstacles, barriers for, and appalling attitudes to disabled people. So we created a piece called Funny Peculiar featuring four dynamic disabled women to bust the myths of vulnerability whilst exploring the real risks we experience around inequality, for example in the loosening of lockdown, and in approaches to our healthcare and survival." The company wanted other disabled artists to be able to make work, to have time and space to explore. It's part of future-proofing. So a series of masterclasses was developed with guest artists sharing their skills online with disabled practitioners, which also meant disabled artists could stay connected and continue developing and sharing skills. Vici delivered two very successful Disability Equality Masterclasses for the North East film and theatre sector, and the three commissions were created. 'Liveness' has been a much missed ingredient as we have all social distanced and so Little Cog has hosted a number of live and online interactive events which have been very successful. "We all still need to connect, and we all still need to invest and exchange in performance and the arts, so part of our new commitment to artists and audiences is to find new ways to make that happen - to create a sense of connectedness through the work, and opportunities to engage and respond. And we've been blown away by the appetite for this and how much people have embraced our work in this area". Today someone told us "For me this is better than the real world in so many ways - I'm connecting with people I wouldn't otherwise, I probably wouldn't make the effort to go out in th cold and the rain, and it's all here, it's all safe and best of all it's all accessible in my own sitting room. I'm more connected to people now than I was before" - we think that's amazing. It won't be the case for everyone but is important to think about this for the inclusion and involvement of many disabled people in the cultural life of our nation. This premiere is the next stage in that process - so please follow this link for further information and to book your free places. Numbers are limited to make sure we have a high quality experience so please don't delay! A Little Cog, ARC Stockton and Northern Stage co-commission |
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Image descriptions - Top left: Liz Carr, as Zsa Zsa, smiling is wearing a colourful chic headscarf over a dark haired bob, and a button up black cardigan. She is standing in front of a collection of designer shoes and boots. Top right: Mandy Colleran, as Blanche, is smiling and chatting into her headset whilst on her lap top. She has red hair and is wearing a blue top. Bottom left: Vici Wreford-Sinnott, as Raquelle, is sitting in the garden with a cocktail. She has silver hair, is wearing large glasses, a patterned top and chunky jewellery. Bottom Right: Bea Webster, as Cuba, is seated in a gaming chair in front of her computer. She has her hand folded and is beaming at the camera wearing a tee shirt which says 'Girls' on it.
Little Cog, ARC Stockton and Northern Stage are all very proud to present a unique online production, created by and starring a company of disabled women, which will launch on 24 September at 7.00pm. Written and directed by Vici Wreford-Sinnott, a key voice in the UK disability arts movement, a stellar cast has been gathered to present the work. Liz Carr, of Silent Witness and Hollywood film Infinite fame, Mandy Colleran, an acclaimed artist, comedian and activist, and Bea Webster, currently with the Royal Shakespeare Company and a mentee of Playwright's Studio of Scotland, all star alongside Little Cog's Artistic Director, Vici Wreford-Sinnott.
Zsa Zsa, Raquelle, Blanche and Cuba are in quarantine – four disabled women locked down, locked in, shut up and shouted down. While the rest of the nation is in meltdown, it takes a lot to phase this quartet.
The coronavirus pandemic has created a unique moment in our history, revealing much about ourselves as individuals, as we face great uncertainty about our way of life as a nation, and also about government, societal and worldwide responses to an existential threat.
Vici Wreford-Sinnott said, "Disabled people feel abandoned and mis-represented, not just historically but very much now. The language around Covid presents a myth that the deaths of some groups of people are inevitable and to be accepted. To begin to class some people as 'vulnerable' is a nonsense as the science reveals that we do not yet know just who is vulnerable. People of all ages and all health status are affected by Covid, some with very long term symptoms which are potentially lifechanging. Certainly many disabled people are susceptible to a massive impact from not only the virus, but also from the way medical interventions are embedded in our services when it comes to saving the lives of disabled people. Two thirds of those who have died so far have been disabled people."
Whilst obviously worried and frustrated by the new terrain - these women are prepared, perhaps they have waited for a moment like this their whole lives. Many things coalescing to give them their moment, of being seen and being heard, their stories intertwine to give voice to commonly hidden lives.
There is a whole narrative about worthless disabled life which we must challenge... enter Zsa Zsa, Blanche, Cuba and Raquelle. These four fictional stories draw on the real life experiences and status of disabled women. They are witty and wise women, and the four monologues are cross cutting with shared themes but also are the voices of a vareity of different peoples' experiences...and they are only four. There are many, many more and as nation we must begin to listen.
The online lauch party is now sold out with a full waiting list but it will be available to watch online from 25 September until the end of October.
Zsa Zsa, Raquelle, Blanche and Cuba are in quarantine – four disabled women locked down, locked in, shut up and shouted down. While the rest of the nation is in meltdown, it takes a lot to phase this quartet.
The coronavirus pandemic has created a unique moment in our history, revealing much about ourselves as individuals, as we face great uncertainty about our way of life as a nation, and also about government, societal and worldwide responses to an existential threat.
Vici Wreford-Sinnott said, "Disabled people feel abandoned and mis-represented, not just historically but very much now. The language around Covid presents a myth that the deaths of some groups of people are inevitable and to be accepted. To begin to class some people as 'vulnerable' is a nonsense as the science reveals that we do not yet know just who is vulnerable. People of all ages and all health status are affected by Covid, some with very long term symptoms which are potentially lifechanging. Certainly many disabled people are susceptible to a massive impact from not only the virus, but also from the way medical interventions are embedded in our services when it comes to saving the lives of disabled people. Two thirds of those who have died so far have been disabled people."
Whilst obviously worried and frustrated by the new terrain - these women are prepared, perhaps they have waited for a moment like this their whole lives. Many things coalescing to give them their moment, of being seen and being heard, their stories intertwine to give voice to commonly hidden lives.
There is a whole narrative about worthless disabled life which we must challenge... enter Zsa Zsa, Blanche, Cuba and Raquelle. These four fictional stories draw on the real life experiences and status of disabled women. They are witty and wise women, and the four monologues are cross cutting with shared themes but also are the voices of a vareity of different peoples' experiences...and they are only four. There are many, many more and as nation we must begin to listen.
The online lauch party is now sold out with a full waiting list but it will be available to watch online from 25 September until the end of October.
 | Mandy Colleran has been involved in Disability Arts since the 1980s. She was a founder member of the comedy trio No Excuses which produced the legendary piece Know My Place, still available to view on youtube. Mandy was also a founder of North West Disability Arts Forum, later becoming it's director. She won a Lifetime Achievement Award from Dadafest in 2007. She was involved in Kaite O'Reilly's In Water I'm Weightless for National Theatre of Wales and has had a long career as a speaker, feminist and campaigner for disability rights. |
 | Liz Carr is known to millions for playing Clarissa Mullery in the BBC's Silent Witness for 8 years but Liz is many things. She is an actor, comedian and disability rights activist. Others will know her from the Disabled/Deaf women’s comedy group, Nasty Girls or the BBC Ouch! podcast with Mat Fraser or her stand up with Abnormally Funny People, her Criptease routines or her passionate opposition to legalising assisted suicide through both campaigning and her creation of the show, Assisted Suicide - The Musical. |
  | Bea Webster is a deaf actor who trained at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. She is an actor, drag artist, writer and speaker on Deaf equality. She is currently in rehearsals with the Royal Shakespeare Company for The Winter's Tale, and starred in Red Ladder's Mother Courage and Her Children, and Kaite O'Reilly's Peeling which toured in the UK last year. Bea is passionate about classical and contemporary texts in English and BSL, has published a poem in both BSL and English titled Long Lost Lover, about her birthplace of Thailand. Vici is Artistic Director of Little Cog, writing and touring nationally a number of pieces of work including, Butterfly which was named Best One Person Play by the British Theatre Guide, Another England, Lighthouse and her recent commissions The Wrong Woman Discussions and Siege for ARC Stockton and Home Manchester can still be seen online as part of the Homemaker's commissions. She is a lifelong feminist and activist, regularly speaking and campaigning on disability rights matters and the role of culture and the arts in equality. She is a founding member of both Disconsortia and We Shall Not Be Removed. |
Vici Wreford-Sinnott, a white woman in her fifties. She has blond spiky hair and has a red scarf round her neck. Change makes us feel refreshed, optimistic and energised for action.
Why not harness some of the opportunities afforded us by our strange new world and create islands of hope and energy in our work around change, through a different way of looking at things.
You work in the arts – you’re already an innovator. Why not take part in these unique Little Cog Masterclasses to look at how we begin to remove barriers to the arts for disabled people in our communities. We’d love to support you to understand what this can look like and share some simple things you can do to bring in richer stories and larger audiences of disabled people.
What has lockdown taught us and brought us about how we approach a safe re-opening of art ad culture, and where does art and culture now sit? Is it only in buildings or can we make local and local and global connections through the power of the digital. What might new models of practice look like?
And why is any of this important?
We all know the stats aren’t great around the representation of disabled people in employment on the arts, in getting work programmed and in being involved in organisational decision-making. We reckon you already know it’s time to take stock of disability equality practices in the arts, and to improve this we’d like to give you and your organisation some information and skills on how to do that. And we’ll also share how to tap into a rich seam of untold stories from new perspectives and build new relationships with us and other disabled artists.
Our Disability Equality Masterclasses are led by Little Cog’s artistic director Vici Wreford-Sinnott, who is a key figure and leading voice in the UK Disability Arts sector. The two Masterclasses are identical so you only need to sign up for one and they are aimed at North East England based venues, organisations, and companies and would be useful for artistic and executive directors, management teams, producers, senior decision-makers, and programmers. It will be supportive, non-finger pointing and solution focussed. And something that starts with a pub quiz can’t be that difficult to take part in surely!
Dates and Times
Tuesday 15 September 1.30-3.30pm
Tuesday 22 September 1.30-3.30pm
Some kind words from ARC, with whom we developed Cultural Shift, a complete model for embedding disabled-led work into the heart of your art.
“We were genuinely challenged to rethink and change the way we work with disabled people. New language, new approaches and gaining a new knowledge of disability that helped us understand why we need to do things a certain way, rather than just changing because we want to tick boxes. People have seen really brilliant work and had their own perceptions challenged by the work they have seen.”
Annabel Turpin, Chief Executive, ARC
If you are interested in a larger team taking part in these masterclasses, for example for your whole organisation or for a significant number of members of your team, we can schedule a separate session for you. There may be cost implications but we do have some subsidy to support this.
Booking Link: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/disability-equality-masterclass-with-vici-wreford-sinnott-tickets-11727931258
More about Little Cog here on our website www.littlecog.co.uk
Our latest production
Please encourage the people you work with to check out our Funny Peculiar online launch party on Thursday 24 September. Booking essential. Written and directed by Vici Wreford-Sinnott, this is Little Cog's latest lockdown production as part of their Staging Our Futures programme. The piece stars Liz Carr of Silent Witness fame, Mandy Colleran, a comedian and activist, and Bea Webster who is currently an associate of both the Royal Shakespeare Company and The Playwright's Studio of Scotland.
Zsa Zsa, Raquelle, Blanche and Cuba are in quarantine – four disabled women locked down, locked in, shut up and shouted down. While the rest of the nation is in meltdown, it takes a lot to phase this quartet. The new terrain is worrying and frustrating but these women are prepared - perhaps they have waited for a moment like this their whole lives.
In a sequence of four original, cross-cutting, witty and wise monologues, broadcasting from their own homes during quarantine, these women are myth-busters giving their all to expose the lie of vulnerability.
Image description - four portraits of disabled women. From left to right there are Liz Carr who is a white woman in her forties with a dark brown bob haircut, who is wearing a black top. Next is Vici Wreford-Sinnott, a white woman in her fifties. She has blond spiky hair and has a red scarf round her neck. Next to Vici is Bea Webster who is a woman of dual heritage, Thai and Scottish, with long brown hair and a red top. She is in her late twenties. And at the right is Mandy Colleran, a white woman in her fifties with long hair and a black top with butterflies on it.
Occasional Freelance Speed Typist for Live Transcription £30 per hour
We are seeking a fast, efficient and accurate typist to create transcriptions of live conversations for our meetings. You will be proactive, enthusiastic and extremely reliable. All work is online so you need to be able to work from home.
We have a number of one and two hour meetings coming up over zoom platforms over the next three months, at different times of the day and occasional evenings, and require an extremely well organised person to create accurate live captions for us. It is not a regular time and day of the week and we would need to be able to call on you as and when required, although we can book a series of six advance sessions in immediately.
You do not need a qualification and it may be that you are a freelancer working in the arts. A knowledge of the arts would be useful but not essential.
You will be responsible for your own tax and NI as this is a freelance position. The rate of £30 per hour includes your prep time and a copy of the transcript after the meeting. We need someone who can start immediately please.
THIS POSITION IS NOW FILLED - THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR THEIR INTEREST.
We are seeking a fast, efficient and accurate typist to create transcriptions of live conversations for our meetings. You will be proactive, enthusiastic and extremely reliable. All work is online so you need to be able to work from home.
We have a number of one and two hour meetings coming up over zoom platforms over the next three months, at different times of the day and occasional evenings, and require an extremely well organised person to create accurate live captions for us. It is not a regular time and day of the week and we would need to be able to call on you as and when required, although we can book a series of six advance sessions in immediately.
You do not need a qualification and it may be that you are a freelancer working in the arts. A knowledge of the arts would be useful but not essential.
You will be responsible for your own tax and NI as this is a freelance position. The rate of £30 per hour includes your prep time and a copy of the transcript after the meeting. We need someone who can start immediately please.
THIS POSITION IS NOW FILLED - THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR THEIR INTEREST.
| Staging Our Futures is an imaginitive artistic programe created by Little Cog to ensure that exciting new work by disabled theatre makers is created and is visible. It's more important than ever to champion and give a platform to disabled artists who are expanding the boundaries of how we work and what work is made. Staging Our Futures has been created by Little Cog during the coronavirus pandemic, supported through Arts Council England Emergency Response Funds. This whole episode has come as a massive shock to everyone and to theatre particularly. We see |  Image Description - Roll Up: Lisette Auton wears a circus ring mistress outfit with top hat. She is bent forwards and about to push her arms out, her face looks like it’s telling a secret. DIY Crip Cabaret - Photo Credit -Taken at the Disconsortia DIY Cabaret by Kev Howard. |
real difficulties and freelancers struggling and have nothing but solidarity. It has also been really impressive to see the very many responses both organisations and individuals have made. We are incredibly proud of the disability community who, again are finding ourselves disadvantaged and excluded from art and culture in its new digital form, have rallied and galvanised a brand new movement promoting accessibility, sustainability, visibility and equality.
As a theatre company, we were very concerned that a shut down of culture would mean that freelance disabled artists would be without work and a voice,and were committed to ensuring that our repsonse would be both to strengthen our organisation and our strategic role in the longer term, and also create artistic opportunities for artists through both Staging our Futures and Disconsortia's At The Table programme, with information on that to follow soon.
We've recently launched Funny Peculiar, written and directed by Vici Wreford-Sinnott and we are now delighted and excited to announce our three Staging Our Futures Commissioned artists.
We invited people to take part who defy expectations, question the world we live in and deliver powerful performance work. We want to support vibrant and pioneering artists who make work that provokes, excites and engages audiences. So when we talk about the future - let's ensure we future-proof the work of disabled artists and the environments in which they make and share their work.
The creation of these commissions comes at a time of massive upheaval in the arts and theatre worlds, and at a time of crisis for communities of disabled people. It is clear that there are calls for a change to a system that does not work for all. We want to change the system. We want to reframe the narratives around disabled people and our stories, and we want to give space to rethink what power means.
We are also delighted to announce and welcome the appointment of Robyn Keynes as Producer of the Staging Our Futures programme, who will be with the company until November, steering us through our various commissions, Funny Peculiar, a Masterclass Programme which includes materclasses by, with and for disabled artists and will present Disability Equality materclasses for the arts sector in the North East.
We're proud to introduce you to Lisette Auton, Miss Jacqui, Bea Webster and Robyn Keynes.
As a theatre company, we were very concerned that a shut down of culture would mean that freelance disabled artists would be without work and a voice,and were committed to ensuring that our repsonse would be both to strengthen our organisation and our strategic role in the longer term, and also create artistic opportunities for artists through both Staging our Futures and Disconsortia's At The Table programme, with information on that to follow soon.
We've recently launched Funny Peculiar, written and directed by Vici Wreford-Sinnott and we are now delighted and excited to announce our three Staging Our Futures Commissioned artists.
We invited people to take part who defy expectations, question the world we live in and deliver powerful performance work. We want to support vibrant and pioneering artists who make work that provokes, excites and engages audiences. So when we talk about the future - let's ensure we future-proof the work of disabled artists and the environments in which they make and share their work.
The creation of these commissions comes at a time of massive upheaval in the arts and theatre worlds, and at a time of crisis for communities of disabled people. It is clear that there are calls for a change to a system that does not work for all. We want to change the system. We want to reframe the narratives around disabled people and our stories, and we want to give space to rethink what power means.
We are also delighted to announce and welcome the appointment of Robyn Keynes as Producer of the Staging Our Futures programme, who will be with the company until November, steering us through our various commissions, Funny Peculiar, a Masterclass Programme which includes materclasses by, with and for disabled artists and will present Disability Equality materclasses for the arts sector in the North East.
We're proud to introduce you to Lisette Auton, Miss Jacqui, Bea Webster and Robyn Keynes.
 Image description - Lisette is a white woman with freckles and brown hair, she is smiling and looking up, she is wearing a black dress with tigers on it. Photo Credit: PaperBoat Photography - by Laura Tindall  Image description - Miss Jacqui is a Black woman with lots of curly hair. She is looking at the camera and is wearing a lemon coloured top. She is seated outdoors surrounded by trees and plants.  Image description - Bea Webster is a Thai-Scottish woman of mixed race. She is looking at the camera. She has dark hair tied back from her face and swept to one side. She is wearing a maroon top and blue jacket.  Image description - Robyn Keynes is a white woman with long fair wavy hair. She is smiling at the camera, seated in a restaurant. She is wearing a dark top with a zip up collar. | Lisette Auton Lisette Auton does stuff with words: disabled writer, activist, poet, spoken-word artist, actor, theatre-maker and creative practitioner. She is an award-winning poet who is widely published and is known for her energised performances in the spoken word scene. Lisette is a Penguin WriteNow mentee and has completed her first novel. She was the 2019 Early Careers Fellow for Literature at Cove Park supported by the Fenton Arts Trust, and is on the TSS Publishing list of Best British & Irish Flash Fiction. Lisette works with many creative collaborators to create unique and innovative cross artform works which have featured at MIMA, Kirkleatham Museum and online. She is currently Assistant Producer for Disconsortia's At The Table programme. Lisette has performed at Northern Stage, ARC, The Southbank Centre and the Sage, in pubs, in a crypt, at festivals, indoors, outdoors, on a bridge and in a launderette. She uses her platform as a performer, writer and theatre-maker to make the invisible visible. www.lisetteauton.co.uk Miss Jacqui Miss Jacqui is a spoken word artist, songwriter, theatre-maker and facilitator. She knows a lot about working with the cards that you are dealt. Especially because she is someone who always tries to challenge societal perceptions about what it actually means to be a black woman with a disability. “When you are a minority in a minority in a minority, you have no choice but to stand out.” – Miss Jacqui Miss Jacqui’s love for theatre started when her mother signed her up to an inclusive drama group when she was 13 to get her out of her introverted shell; and she never looked back. Miss Jacqui's love for Spoken Word/Poetry came about when she joined 'Poets Platform' led by Kat Francois. Miss Jacqui honestly believe that creativity is a universal language. Miss Jacqui has worked with Halfmoon Young Peoples Theatre, Theatre Royal Stratford East, National Youth Theatre and Roundhouse just to name a few. Miss Jacqui has performed at various locations like the Paralympic Team Welcoming Ceremony as well as the Opening Ceremony. “I want to break as many stereotypes as possible when it comes to me being a black woman with a disability.” - Miss Jacqui Bea Webster Bea Webster is a deaf actor who trained at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. She is an actor, drag artist, writer and speaker on Deaf equality. She is currently in rehearsals with the Royal Shakespeare Company for The Winter's Tale, and starred in Red Ladder's Mother Courage and Her Children, and Kaite O'Reilly's Peeling which toured in the UK last year. Earlier in lockdown Bea took part in Vici Wreford-Sinnott's The Wrong Woman Discussions, featuring five disabled women performance makers talking about their experiences, transgressing expectations and bringing agency for disabled women to performance. Bea is passionate about classical and contemporary texts in English and BSL, has contributed to BBC Social, has hosted several events, and has published a poem in both BSL and English titled Long Lost Lover, about her birthplace of Thailand. Robyn Keynes Robyn is a theatre producer and general manager with over nine years of experience across the subsidised, commercial and independent theatre sectors. She has worked for companies including the National Student Drama Festival, commercial producers Smith & Brant, and new writing company HighTide. She has produced plays, with a particular focus on new writing, alongside musicals, events and festivals. |
The work produced from the commissions will be shared online on 1 November 2020, but we will be releasing artist profile features of all commissioned artists, staring with Lisette talking about her phenomenal Writing/Righting the Missing work - a piece looking at the world through a new lens, without fear. Lisette said of her commission plans, "I want it to be radical, wild, challenging, quiet, kind and brave. I want it to push me as a performer and a writer. I want it to be creatively accessible, built in as part of the creative process right from concept."
We'll be launching our Masterclass programme soon and you'll be able to see Funny Peculiar with Liz Carr, Mandy Colleran, Bea Webster and Vici Wreford-Sinnott broadcast online from 31 August 2020.
We'll be launching our Masterclass programme soon and you'll be able to see Funny Peculiar with Liz Carr, Mandy Colleran, Bea Webster and Vici Wreford-Sinnott broadcast online from 31 August 2020.
Lisette Auton is an incredibly talented, insightful and go-getting part of a new generation of disabled artists. We are delighted to welcome her guest blog, which comes to us as a reflection of an earlier blogpost, detailing Lisette's experience of the inaccessibility of the digital world.
Image Description - Lisette Auton, white with freckles, 40 years old, short brown hair, holds her purple stick across her body threateningly and wears a purple t-thirst with the slogan ‘Disability is not a bad word’. Her face is all screwed up, teeth bared, wondering what on earth is going on. Photo Credit: PaperBoat Photography by Laura Tindall
Little Cog's Artistic Director, Vici Wreford-Sinnott, recently compiled A Guide to Hosting an Accessible Online Meeting and is actively putting its contents into action where and when possible, and encouraging others to do the same. The guide has now been accessed hundreds of times online. We were delighted to have Lisette's support for a recent Disconsortia zoom meeting with features for people with screen fatigue, screen overwhelm, neurodivergence and for people who might be new to zoom. We communicated well, and in detail, in advance and this is how it went.
I was commissioned by the wonderful ally, Luxi Ltd, to write a blog post entitled ‘The Inaccessibility of the Future (or, What to do when you just can’t Zoom)’ in which I wrote about my experiences of trying to access online meetings, and my worries about how and why lots of people were being left behind and what we could do about it. Everything still stands, still worries me, especially tech poverty, access to broadband, and having a safe space at home, having a home! There is so much we take for granted when creating a new world online. These still need to be solved.
But for me, personally, I had a breakthrough. Nothing has changed whatsoever with my access needs, unsurprisingly, but what has changed is my awareness of what I need to ask for, for me, to make it possible.
I’m learning that dark sunglasses means that some meeting spaces without the zoomy yellow box work better – Microsoft Teams and Google Meets and Skype. But these are still harder to access for many, don’t provide the same facilities, and are therefore not the go-to which is Zoom. I completely understand and get that – access is also about making the actual getting into a meeting as easy as possible, which Zoom does well. It’s that pesky yellow box in group meetings that’s still breaking me. I realised that if I didn’t have to see that pesky box…
I began to state my needs. I will not be looking at the screen, will be relying purely on audio. Please could you ask if people could introduce themselves by name, or could you introduce them, so that I am able to situate myself in the conversation, and if there are any slides, could I see them in advance, or could you briefly describe them? Everyone said yes, dead easy, of course. Hurrah!
Not everyone did it.
I was commissioned by the wonderful ally, Luxi Ltd, to write a blog post entitled ‘The Inaccessibility of the Future (or, What to do when you just can’t Zoom)’ in which I wrote about my experiences of trying to access online meetings, and my worries about how and why lots of people were being left behind and what we could do about it. Everything still stands, still worries me, especially tech poverty, access to broadband, and having a safe space at home, having a home! There is so much we take for granted when creating a new world online. These still need to be solved.
But for me, personally, I had a breakthrough. Nothing has changed whatsoever with my access needs, unsurprisingly, but what has changed is my awareness of what I need to ask for, for me, to make it possible.
I’m learning that dark sunglasses means that some meeting spaces without the zoomy yellow box work better – Microsoft Teams and Google Meets and Skype. But these are still harder to access for many, don’t provide the same facilities, and are therefore not the go-to which is Zoom. I completely understand and get that – access is also about making the actual getting into a meeting as easy as possible, which Zoom does well. It’s that pesky yellow box in group meetings that’s still breaking me. I realised that if I didn’t have to see that pesky box…
I began to state my needs. I will not be looking at the screen, will be relying purely on audio. Please could you ask if people could introduce themselves by name, or could you introduce them, so that I am able to situate myself in the conversation, and if there are any slides, could I see them in advance, or could you briefly describe them? Everyone said yes, dead easy, of course. Hurrah!
Not everyone did it.
Image Descirption - Lisette Auton again, same stick and t-shirt. She has her hands thrown up, head to the side and mouth wide open, wondering ‘WHY?!’ Photo Credit: PaperBoat Photography by Laura Tindall
Do you know what hurts more? Going through the faff, the time, the emotional labour, the wondering if you’re making a fuss, the being told that’s dead easy of course and within two minutes of being there going, ‘Oh. I’m not welcome after all.’ Not having a clue what’s going on. Being right on the margin, again, quietly leaving, again.
Do you know what it also makes you do? Stop trying. Because even though yes does mean a yes, and the people are wonderful, trust is now gone and hurt is thwacking you around the heart bits. So it’s easier just to ignore invitations and withdraw.
I’m Assistant Producer for DISCONSORTIA, an incredible collective of North East England disabled artists. We needed to get together. The approach was made to me with kindness, with curiosity, with I do not want you to feel pressured, with we will work it out, HOW can we work it out, so that you can be there, can be present.
I was scared. Of being let down again. I nearly said an outright no. Then screwed courage to the sticking place and said yes, but this is why I’m scared, this is how it hasn’t worked, I can’t go through that again.
I was listened to, heard, supported, and we came up with a plan. Which you know what, was really bloomin’ easy.
As well as me being audio only, we have Deaf members so we use a sign language interpreter, we have people who prefer not to speak, we have timings to stick to just like everybody else, and you know what? We only went and bloomin’ did it. IT IS POSSIBLE.
I booked the sign language interpreter a week in advance, I asked for advice. We had a pre-meeting to get together before the main one and make sure the tech was working, and time to ‘pin’ each other so that they stayed large and visible when everyone else arrived. I used keyboard shortcuts to take part. The meeting was Actively Chaired. People’s microphones were turned off on arrival and the chair explained why – so that we could take time for the sign language interpretation, so that everyone could be involved, and that we could meet everyone’s needs. The chair asked for raised hands or a raised hand via a keyboard shortcut in order to contribute. The chair introduced everyone by name. None of the magic was lost, it was wonderful and joyous, and we even finished on time.
Everyone was included, valued, took up space in each and their own way. I cried when I left. Because it was possible, it is possible.
Ask. If you ask, listen. If you say yes, do it.
I ended my last blog post like this, and it’s still just as applicable now:
“We are creatives. We are used to problem solving with no money, no time, and the audience about to enter…
Could we please work this out together? Work out the future together.
Make sure no one is left behind, make sure no one is missing.”
Do you know what it also makes you do? Stop trying. Because even though yes does mean a yes, and the people are wonderful, trust is now gone and hurt is thwacking you around the heart bits. So it’s easier just to ignore invitations and withdraw.
I’m Assistant Producer for DISCONSORTIA, an incredible collective of North East England disabled artists. We needed to get together. The approach was made to me with kindness, with curiosity, with I do not want you to feel pressured, with we will work it out, HOW can we work it out, so that you can be there, can be present.
I was scared. Of being let down again. I nearly said an outright no. Then screwed courage to the sticking place and said yes, but this is why I’m scared, this is how it hasn’t worked, I can’t go through that again.
I was listened to, heard, supported, and we came up with a plan. Which you know what, was really bloomin’ easy.
As well as me being audio only, we have Deaf members so we use a sign language interpreter, we have people who prefer not to speak, we have timings to stick to just like everybody else, and you know what? We only went and bloomin’ did it. IT IS POSSIBLE.
I booked the sign language interpreter a week in advance, I asked for advice. We had a pre-meeting to get together before the main one and make sure the tech was working, and time to ‘pin’ each other so that they stayed large and visible when everyone else arrived. I used keyboard shortcuts to take part. The meeting was Actively Chaired. People’s microphones were turned off on arrival and the chair explained why – so that we could take time for the sign language interpretation, so that everyone could be involved, and that we could meet everyone’s needs. The chair asked for raised hands or a raised hand via a keyboard shortcut in order to contribute. The chair introduced everyone by name. None of the magic was lost, it was wonderful and joyous, and we even finished on time.
Everyone was included, valued, took up space in each and their own way. I cried when I left. Because it was possible, it is possible.
Ask. If you ask, listen. If you say yes, do it.
I ended my last blog post like this, and it’s still just as applicable now:
“We are creatives. We are used to problem solving with no money, no time, and the audience about to enter…
Could we please work this out together? Work out the future together.
Make sure no one is left behind, make sure no one is missing.”
Image Description - Lisette Auton again, same stick and t-shirt. She has a massive grin on her face – problem solved. Photo Credit: PaperBoat Photography by Laura Tindall
About Lisette
Lisette Auton does stuff with words: disabled writer, activist, poet, spoken-word artist, actor, theatre-maker and creative practitioner. She’s an award-winning published poet, a Penguin WriteNow mentee, recipient of an Early Careers Residency for Literature at Cove Park, and on the TSS Publishing list of Best British & Irish Flash Fiction. She uses her platform as a performer, writer and theatre-maker to make the invisible visible. www.lisetteauton.co.uk
Lisette Auton does stuff with words: disabled writer, activist, poet, spoken-word artist, actor, theatre-maker and creative practitioner. She’s an award-winning published poet, a Penguin WriteNow mentee, recipient of an Early Careers Residency for Literature at Cove Park, and on the TSS Publishing list of Best British & Irish Flash Fiction. She uses her platform as a performer, writer and theatre-maker to make the invisible visible. www.lisetteauton.co.uk
The title of this piece is both a deception and a truth. Disabled people like me are often the recipients of benevolece in art and culture. At a time of risk in the arts, as we all struggle towards some kind of recovery and sustainable presence, here is a 'guide' to being better than benevolent. Vici Wreford-Sinnott
A version of this article was published by TheatreArtLife a global platform for all things theatre thinking.
A version of this article was published by TheatreArtLife a global platform for all things theatre thinking.
Image description - Actor Andrew McLay, a wheelchair user, is seated in a domestic setting with a small side table and a writing bureau either side of him. He is pointing out to someone beyond the photograph. He is wearing blue trousers and an orange top. Murphy in Another England.
I’ve now been living in isolation for four months due to the global pandemic. Quite an experience fraught with both challenges and opportunities. Opportunities for meaningful change if only the right voices can be heard in the right places.
Economic pressures around the world have meant that many governments are loosening their lockdowns. That has happened quite rapidly in the UK where I am based, and where really, we’ve had a succession of vague and mixed messages about how to keep each other safe. Frustrated by isolation and restricted lives, people are hungry to be ‘free’ and ‘back to normal’. And so now, we see lots of people taking big risks with their own health and lives, and those of others.
I’m scared. I am a disabled woman: a lifelong activist, theatre director and playwright, screenwriter, punk (as in rock), and a reasonably confident person but I don’t mind admitting, I am scared. If I get this, Covid 19, I’m gone. I’m gone, mainly because I am a disabled woman and I won’t get the same treatment non-disabled people do. I won’t get the same opportunity to fight it and live. Neo-liberal societies don’t value the lives and contributions of disabled people. We’re viewed as ‘less than’, and certain powerful ideologues would rather have a ‘cleaner species’. Scary stuff and a bit confusing, especially as most members of the human race are going to become disabled as we age. It’s a natural part of life.
What does all of this have to do with involving disabled people in the performing arts then? That’s what I’m writing about about: A Guide to Involving Disabled People in the Performing Arts. First of all – performing arts? Isn’t that just a bit of frivolous fun? What possible difference can that make to peoples’ lives? And second of all, on reading that this was going to be a ‘guide’, you might expect me to write a quick to-do list of accessibility tips and tricks. Which actually I can do at the drop of a hat. It’s as easy as a click of the fingers, listing items 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, there you go, practical steps – done and dusted.
Only if we think back to my first paragraphs, and the backdrop I’m writing this against, in the UK two-thirds of people who have died in the pandemic so far, have been disabled people, and disabled women are 11 times more likely to die based on current statistics. The narrative created around ‘vulnerability’ and ‘underlying conditions’, has made it sound as if our deaths are inevitable. Expected and accepted. Yes, disabled people may be more susceptible to the impact of the virus, but the greater threat is that we are triaged and our care decided before we even get ill. Frailty scores are embedded in health professional training even if they are not spoken of as such. We’re not a priority. The ‘who will get a ventilator discussion…’
This means that all life is not perceived as equal. And it’s a story that has been repeated throughout history, from the Romans putting disabled children out on the hillsides to perish as they were deemed useless, through to compulsory or coercive sterilization programmes of disabled women across the world, through to not bothering to count the deaths of learning disabled people due to covid.
This is why it is important, critical in my opinion, to involve disabled people in performing arts, in theatre, in TV or film is actually a vital means of staying alive. It’s where we have visibility in culture and it’s where we get to tell our stories. Without that we are completely invisible. More at risk.
The civil rights movements of disabled people across the world have always been about our status, our value and worth as human citizens. We fight to be seen as equal, and treated as equal, in society’s systems and structures. Our low status is embedded in our national psyches because of historical and cultural misrepresentation - shown as deficient, less than, less able, tragic, useless.
Economic pressures around the world have meant that many governments are loosening their lockdowns. That has happened quite rapidly in the UK where I am based, and where really, we’ve had a succession of vague and mixed messages about how to keep each other safe. Frustrated by isolation and restricted lives, people are hungry to be ‘free’ and ‘back to normal’. And so now, we see lots of people taking big risks with their own health and lives, and those of others.
I’m scared. I am a disabled woman: a lifelong activist, theatre director and playwright, screenwriter, punk (as in rock), and a reasonably confident person but I don’t mind admitting, I am scared. If I get this, Covid 19, I’m gone. I’m gone, mainly because I am a disabled woman and I won’t get the same treatment non-disabled people do. I won’t get the same opportunity to fight it and live. Neo-liberal societies don’t value the lives and contributions of disabled people. We’re viewed as ‘less than’, and certain powerful ideologues would rather have a ‘cleaner species’. Scary stuff and a bit confusing, especially as most members of the human race are going to become disabled as we age. It’s a natural part of life.
What does all of this have to do with involving disabled people in the performing arts then? That’s what I’m writing about about: A Guide to Involving Disabled People in the Performing Arts. First of all – performing arts? Isn’t that just a bit of frivolous fun? What possible difference can that make to peoples’ lives? And second of all, on reading that this was going to be a ‘guide’, you might expect me to write a quick to-do list of accessibility tips and tricks. Which actually I can do at the drop of a hat. It’s as easy as a click of the fingers, listing items 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, there you go, practical steps – done and dusted.
Only if we think back to my first paragraphs, and the backdrop I’m writing this against, in the UK two-thirds of people who have died in the pandemic so far, have been disabled people, and disabled women are 11 times more likely to die based on current statistics. The narrative created around ‘vulnerability’ and ‘underlying conditions’, has made it sound as if our deaths are inevitable. Expected and accepted. Yes, disabled people may be more susceptible to the impact of the virus, but the greater threat is that we are triaged and our care decided before we even get ill. Frailty scores are embedded in health professional training even if they are not spoken of as such. We’re not a priority. The ‘who will get a ventilator discussion…’
This means that all life is not perceived as equal. And it’s a story that has been repeated throughout history, from the Romans putting disabled children out on the hillsides to perish as they were deemed useless, through to compulsory or coercive sterilization programmes of disabled women across the world, through to not bothering to count the deaths of learning disabled people due to covid.
This is why it is important, critical in my opinion, to involve disabled people in performing arts, in theatre, in TV or film is actually a vital means of staying alive. It’s where we have visibility in culture and it’s where we get to tell our stories. Without that we are completely invisible. More at risk.
The civil rights movements of disabled people across the world have always been about our status, our value and worth as human citizens. We fight to be seen as equal, and treated as equal, in society’s systems and structures. Our low status is embedded in our national psyches because of historical and cultural misrepresentation - shown as deficient, less than, less able, tragic, useless.
Image Description - Actor Jacqueline Phillips in Butterly (Best One Person Play, British Theatre Guide). She is playing Beatrice, one of nine characters, crouching on a table top with animated hands. There is a BSL interpreter in the background and a projection of artistic equations.
Dominant culture, the thing that preserves the status quo no matter how ugly and unequal it is, tells the stories of disabled people in film, TV and theatre as great tragedies, which are to be overcome or destined to have desperately sad endings. We’re the butt of jokes or we’re there as the foil to a main protagonist’s story. Dominant culture just hasn’t been interested in re-telling or challenging these stories with disabled people at the helm. But this makes so little sense – again if most of us will become disabled as we age, and if as much as 20-25% of the population consists of disabled people (as it does where I live), why do we repeat the same old stereotypes, the same old narratives, reinforce our ill-informed historical beliefs and terrify each other that it’s not a life worth living to be disabled?
The stories dominant culture tells are never, ever led by disabled people. The producers, directors, writers, designers and actors in production companies, in broadcasting organisations and in our theatre venues are rarely disabled people. Of course, we have fought for space and set up companies ourselves but due to the societal encoding of disability as deficient, we are under-resourced and given lesser spaces. It’s rarely high-profile work. Arguments are put forward that it’s because ‘you’re not famous – they need big names’. Well, we’ll never be big names if we aren’t involved, included and given leadership and decision-making roles.
It’s not about being a big name for most of us though. It’s about moving towards a point where statistically we are represented more proportionately to the percentage of society we make up. Recent diversity research undertaken by Arts Council England revealed disgraceful statistics about levels of diversity in employment in English arts.
The stories dominant culture tells are never, ever led by disabled people. The producers, directors, writers, designers and actors in production companies, in broadcasting organisations and in our theatre venues are rarely disabled people. Of course, we have fought for space and set up companies ourselves but due to the societal encoding of disability as deficient, we are under-resourced and given lesser spaces. It’s rarely high-profile work. Arguments are put forward that it’s because ‘you’re not famous – they need big names’. Well, we’ll never be big names if we aren’t involved, included and given leadership and decision-making roles.
It’s not about being a big name for most of us though. It’s about moving towards a point where statistically we are represented more proportionately to the percentage of society we make up. Recent diversity research undertaken by Arts Council England revealed disgraceful statistics about levels of diversity in employment in English arts.
Image description - a close up on the side profile of a young woman's face taken through the wire patterns of a swing garden chair. She has dark hair and brown eyes and is looking thoughtful but ready for action if needed. It is moody and atmospheric. The actor is Philippa Cole playing Rat in Another England by Vici Wreford-Sinnott. Photo Credit Kevin Howard.
Involving disabled people in the performing arts has to begin by acknowledging the historical misrepresentation and stereotyping that is present in much of the canons of theatre and film. We can’t keep telling those old stories in those old ways. And we have to address institutional and structural ableism – the discrimination and exclusion of disabled people at all levels in the arts. We’re not novelties and curiosities for non-disabled actors to ‘extend their range’ and contort their bodies into Oscar winning roles.
I’ve been talking a lot about ‘crip-taking’ lately. Another film has come out, American I think, and launching in Europe soon, which has cast non-disabled people as disabled characters. Cultural theft. Taking our voices, taking our stories and taking our roles. It has to stop. Surrounded by phrases like ‘heart-warming, inspiring and special’ – we are not your entertainment! It ultimately means we die first in pandemics. Please join the dots and see the cultural journey our thinking as societies takes. What it reinforces and perpetuates. Where it ends up.
Disabled people know very well the non-disabled puffed-up-chested affrontery at suggestions that non-disabled people should not impersonate and mimic us. Cries of ‘surely that is precisely what acting is where one can play anyone when one is acting’, or, ‘political correctness gone mad’ and ‘next we’ll be saying that only boxers can play boxers and only teachers can play teachers’. It’s not about that at all. It’s about the baggage you didn’t know you had, already telling you that our lives are only worthy of impersonating and making a novelty or a tragedy of. That work, those films and theatre shows where non-disabled people crip-take, do nothing to change our status, to challenge the stereotypes about us, put us any higher up anyone’s list of priorities, and or reveal anything of our cultural richness. There are things about us you don’t even know, and if you don’t know them, the cultural landscape is a lie. We are not telling or reflecting the truth about who we are. We are hiding it.
And please don’t tell me that there are no disabled producers, directors, writers or actors out there. I’ve been doing this for thirty years and have worked with some of the most talented, insightful, innovative, trailblazers in our world who will one day achieve recognition. Dominant culture just doesn’t know where to look – or perhaps it does, and then chooses to look the other way. Why is that?
So, back to the questions. Why do we involve disabled people in the arts? Because we have amazing stories to tell, and we have to stop cultural theft, stop crip-taking. It perpetuates inequality.
And, how do we involve disabled artists in performing arts? We involve disabled artists at every level, from the very beginning. Look, okay, here’s the access stuff, the list, the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The access stuff really is the basics, we shouldn’t have to tell you about it as it’s been legislation for decades, and it is constant emotional unpaid labour to us to be educators.
As it happens, we can tell ya a lot of the practical stuff in our sleep and do a quick budget projection on the side. Lift and level access, BSL interpreters, audio description, neurodivergent accessibility and relaxed environments, regular breaks, adapt rehearsal rooms and rehearsal methods, stop holding workshops, auditions and rehearsals and training up or down flights of stairs, ask us what our access requirements are, remember we’re not frail or going to cry at our own misfortune. Remember that we know what we’re doing, we’re professionals. We love sex and Elvis and whisky and cake just as much as you do. We are producers, directors, writers and actors. We are cultural leaders already, we are actors already – but because of society’s ‘less than’ view of us we don’t get invested in. And no thank you, I don’t mean we want another meaningless training course or development initiative. We want tangibles, we want the work, but somehow things flip around and we always have to be ‘more than’ to get a shot.
I’ve been talking a lot about ‘crip-taking’ lately. Another film has come out, American I think, and launching in Europe soon, which has cast non-disabled people as disabled characters. Cultural theft. Taking our voices, taking our stories and taking our roles. It has to stop. Surrounded by phrases like ‘heart-warming, inspiring and special’ – we are not your entertainment! It ultimately means we die first in pandemics. Please join the dots and see the cultural journey our thinking as societies takes. What it reinforces and perpetuates. Where it ends up.
Disabled people know very well the non-disabled puffed-up-chested affrontery at suggestions that non-disabled people should not impersonate and mimic us. Cries of ‘surely that is precisely what acting is where one can play anyone when one is acting’, or, ‘political correctness gone mad’ and ‘next we’ll be saying that only boxers can play boxers and only teachers can play teachers’. It’s not about that at all. It’s about the baggage you didn’t know you had, already telling you that our lives are only worthy of impersonating and making a novelty or a tragedy of. That work, those films and theatre shows where non-disabled people crip-take, do nothing to change our status, to challenge the stereotypes about us, put us any higher up anyone’s list of priorities, and or reveal anything of our cultural richness. There are things about us you don’t even know, and if you don’t know them, the cultural landscape is a lie. We are not telling or reflecting the truth about who we are. We are hiding it.
And please don’t tell me that there are no disabled producers, directors, writers or actors out there. I’ve been doing this for thirty years and have worked with some of the most talented, insightful, innovative, trailblazers in our world who will one day achieve recognition. Dominant culture just doesn’t know where to look – or perhaps it does, and then chooses to look the other way. Why is that?
So, back to the questions. Why do we involve disabled people in the arts? Because we have amazing stories to tell, and we have to stop cultural theft, stop crip-taking. It perpetuates inequality.
And, how do we involve disabled artists in performing arts? We involve disabled artists at every level, from the very beginning. Look, okay, here’s the access stuff, the list, the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The access stuff really is the basics, we shouldn’t have to tell you about it as it’s been legislation for decades, and it is constant emotional unpaid labour to us to be educators.
As it happens, we can tell ya a lot of the practical stuff in our sleep and do a quick budget projection on the side. Lift and level access, BSL interpreters, audio description, neurodivergent accessibility and relaxed environments, regular breaks, adapt rehearsal rooms and rehearsal methods, stop holding workshops, auditions and rehearsals and training up or down flights of stairs, ask us what our access requirements are, remember we’re not frail or going to cry at our own misfortune. Remember that we know what we’re doing, we’re professionals. We love sex and Elvis and whisky and cake just as much as you do. We are producers, directors, writers and actors. We are cultural leaders already, we are actors already – but because of society’s ‘less than’ view of us we don’t get invested in. And no thank you, I don’t mean we want another meaningless training course or development initiative. We want tangibles, we want the work, but somehow things flip around and we always have to be ‘more than’ to get a shot.
Image Description - one female learning disabled actor in drab grey uniform is in the foreground of the photograph, with seven other actors are behind her in a line in identical costumes. A giant image of the foregounded actor is projected on to a huge screen at the back of the stage. It is taken form the stage show called The Keepers by Full Circle Theatre Company.
Over the years, when we were given spaces, sometimes we needed safe spaces to play to each other, and other times we needed studios and bigger stages. The danger was that we’d only end up inhabiting specific spaces which can be a double-edged sword. Niches and ghettos and silos. We have needed those spaces to support each other, to grow our craft but we also deserve the investment of greater scale. Not everything has to be on huge stages, intimate work is as important and impactful but it needs to be well resourced. I feel I’ve worked hard and earned a main stage large scale production but the argument will be ‘risk’. Not everything is about scale, but sometimes when you are under-represented it has to be factored in. And not in diluted mainstream work but in genuinely disabled-led work. I hope the clock of change is ticking playmates.
To involve disabled people in the performing arts we have to remove the inaccessible people running inaccessible institutions, venues and companies with inaccessible attitudes. And we have to ask you to check your privilege, every day, and leave your ego at the door, whichever community you are from, as we seem to bottom of everyone’s priority list. See us, talk to us, involve us and invest in us.
In isolation in lock down, I have had two small commissions to write two new plays and created an online digital short film. I am making slightly bigger digital piece which will be broadcast online in August with three amazing actors, examples of phenomenal British talent. I have been commissioned for two new pieces of work. I have commissioned three disabled artists through my company Little Cog and a disabled artist led collective I work with has just created 15 mini-commissions with disabled artists. There are a lot of us out here making fantastic work. Very little of this will get national arts coverage. It just doesn’t get the profile because the baggage attached to the word disabled. Thirty years, and barely anyone in theatre in my own region knows my name. Or if they do, they don’t talk to me.
I’m proud to be a disabled person – to say so is a political act. An act of resistance and a disruption to the status quo. The disabled people who have done this before me paved the way for change in the way that myself and other activists are doing for future generations. One day the societal penny will drop – our work will be seen, valued and invested in. We see it, we are excited by it and we are a massive audience for genuine work where disabled people are leading and centre-stage.
Get in touch and let’s talk this through.
As I’ve now had a couple of weeks to process 12 of the most amazing, challenging, inspiring and fulfilling days of my career, I’ve put some words together. There are a lot of words, its probably more than one blog, but this experience has had a massive impact on me. Attending Directors Lab North and Luminato Festival in Toronto was an absolute privilege. DLN is an invaluable space to explore the complexities of a range of theatre practices from across communities from across the world. It is important to me to ensure that a disabled voice is at the table, making change happen, and that I’m both sharing and learning. Vici Wreford-Sinnott
This is a previous blog from 2018
This is a previous blog from 2018
Image description - Sarah Kitz is in the foreground of the photo, deeply concerned, with binoculars around her neck. She is performing in Out The Window written by Liza Balkan and directed by Sarah Garton Stanley, at the Luminato Festival Toronto, 2018. In the background a number of police officers are crouched over a figure. Photo by Kyle Purcell. Out The Window by Liza Balkan, Directed by Sarah Garton Stanley. A Luminato Commission in partnership with the Drama Centre Toronto
Land Acknowledgment
I want to support and honour the land acknowledgement of Tarragon Theatre, Toronto, acknowledging the sacred land on which we gathered and operated, as the traditional territory of the Huron-Wendat and Petun First Nations, The Seneca, the Mississaugas of the New Credit, and any other nations who cared for the land in its history.
The territory is the subject of the Dish With One Spoon Wampum Belt Covenant, an agreement between the Haudenosaunee Confederacy and Confederacy of the Ojibwe and allied nations to peaceably share and care for the resources around the Great Lakes.
Today, the meeting place of Toronto is still the home to many indigenous people from across Turtle Island and I was grateful to work in the community, on that territory.
Context of My International Visit to Canada
I’m not a natural navel gazer, nor do I boast about opportunities afforded me, but I genuinely have always dreamed of going to Canada. I’m choosing to record and archive my experience as a disabled practitioner, and aim to contribute to discourses around, a) the equal status of disabled citizens and any injustices I witness or experience, and b) the equal status of the autonomous voices and artistic contribution of disabled people on many levels, in varying ways, across culture.
About 18 months ago, I decided that I wanted to explore some international possibilities, but then I didn’t even know opportunities like Directors Lab North in Toronto existed. Being selected to attend, in many ways, felt like I was risk-taking, with no other self-identifying disabled people attending, without a history of disabled people attending, to my knowledge, and not really appreciating the circumstances that both disabled and non-disabled artists in Canada and the US make their work – the systems and structures available to them.
And in honesty, I wasn’t sure whether what I have to offer was of value in this new context. There is a cyclic experience I encounter, where, as an artist from a less represented community, with historically less opportunities open to us due to societal prejudices and systemic failings, we must take on the role of both artist and educator, of both creative and campaigner, of both diplomat and activist. In diversity terms, not to in any way to diminish anyone else’s experience of discrimination and oppression, disability, because of all the social and historical baggage attached to common perceptions, usually finds itself at the bottom of everyone’s priority list. It’s often so difficult to get past the word ‘disability’, so conflated is it with inability, illness and incapacity. As a direct result of this conflation, in my own experience, it feels like disability is the only ‘other’ which the mainstream feels it can, wittingly or unwittingly, legitimately continue to represent as ‘less than’.
As I have said on many occasions, disabled artists are some of the most exciting and innovative people creating work today, as we challenge form, challenge content and absolutely challenge the dominant artistic status quo. And yet, often, due to the baggage, our work is perceived as ‘less than’ and you can see the shutters coming down once the word disability is introduced to artistic discussions. I remember chatting to a senior member of Arts Council staff about contemporary theatre in the UK, who literally glazed over once I mentioned that I work in disabled-led arts, took out his phone to check messages mid-conversation. Less than.
I have been able to reflect that I am at a shifting point in my career as an artist and as a voice within disabled-led arts working towards artistic and cultural equality for our community. If I can speak out, and this is just for me, I have a responsibility to do so. And I am driven to make the best, most compelling, powerful, meaningful, relevant work that I can, with thoughtful and analytical practice.
One of the most exciting elements of Directors Lab North and of the Toronto Luminato Theatre Festival (which, along with the British Council also supported our programme) was the theme of activism and what role activism has on the creative life of an artist. Right up my street. Invaluable.
The Theme of Activism
All 28 of us directors had answered a question on our application forms about whether it is necessary for the role of an artist to also be an activist, and if so, how do we do this effectively and theatrically without alienating an audience? We were all so different in many ways, those forms must have made for very interesting reading. These are matters I face daily in my practice – making sure the activism is in the form of excellent art, and discovering new ways to get audiences to both engage and invest in the work. It was such a luxury to see work at Luminato, to discuss it, to share practice, to meet guest speakers and practitioners and to explore different approaches.
Specific discussion points which have stayed with me relate to questions about
I’ll blog separately about some of these discussions and the learning involved.
In a hugely conflicted world, it is essential to speak out, to be accountable and to build bridges. Artists have an important role to play in the conversations about society, humanity and, in these difficult times, resistance. And also to be a community. It’s not enough for me to stand on the shoulders of the disability rights movement, to sit back and observe the world, take public funding and make out of context, status quo serving, socially apolitical, comfortable and privileged work. I’m also going to be really careful that my work does not conflate disability with illness and ability, and I will not perpetuate existing stereotypes and tropes that exist around disability. So my practice is careful, considered and challenges me.
Cultural differences
It became apparent immediately that there were cultural differences between US, Canada, European and UK participants that perhaps none of us had given much thought to in advance. And there were a variety of intersectional differences between all of us wherever we were from. It took a while to acclimatize to each other and to work out what we didn’t know about each other. It was both a huge and beautiful learning process. There were matters of communication – politeness versus enquiring questions, straight talking versus diplomacy, diversity versus mainstream, political versus apolitical, political versus entertainment, perceptions of construction of identity including gender, disability, LGBTQI, social class, race and age. All genuinely fascinating and the impressive thing was the level of genuine mutual respect amongst the group. The word ‘versus’ was removed from the discussion.
We realized that all of the six UK based directors, not exclusively, were all mission led. We all make work for a specific purpose which is socially engaged. Other directors were perhaps led by a particular theory of practice, or a specific form, and others were jobbing directors, often working as unpaid assistant directors for the experience as an accepted part of the existing hierarchy. It was fascinating to see how our discussions unfolded and then also how are practice was shared and demonstrated. And we were able to have conversations about some of the fundamentals of a rehearsal room – do we do warm ups, how do we do them, why do we do them and also, how much table work do we do, if any, depending on our training and our approach to the process. We rarely get to spend time in other directors rehearsals so this was really interesting. I learned so much that I will continue to use.
One of the biggest cultural differences was of course the role of indigenous artists activism, artistry and protection of the true history of indigenous people in Canada and their experiences at the hands of settlers. One of the guest directors who presented to us was the amazing Jill Carter, Assistant Professor, Centre for Drama, Centre for Indigenous Studies, University of Toronto. She talked with passion about the representation of indigenous women, and characters created by both non-indigenous people and indigenous artists. It was absolutely fascinating. I could happily have spent the whole day with her. We also got to see a production called bug by Yolanda Bonnell, a queer performer and playwright of Ojibwe and South Asian descent, hailing from the Fort William First Nation Indian Reserve in Thunder Bay, Ontario. The piece was haunting and challenging on many levels, with Bonnell playing many women, and weaving the creation story throughout. Bonnell was captivating as she moved from character to character with great skill and expertise. Though painful, the piece concluded with hope for future women and the safeguarding of the land. It was brilliant to be part of discussions involving such strong women.
High Impact Work
Two pieces of work had a really big impact on me, in quite different ways. I’d say both were politically urgent pieces – often where I position my own work – delivered and followed up in quite different ways. The first was Burning Doors by Belarus Free Theatre who had combined forces with Pussy Riot’s Maria Alyokhina – a pulsing, visceral and physical piece sharing stories of persecuted artists, living under dictatorship, who will not be silenced. It was powerful and relentless in its anger and fire. For me, the intensity is shocking, and then sadly numbing, the audience breathing a sigh of relief when it is over but not really knowing what to do with its new information. ‘Isn’t this where we clap enthusiastically, perhaps give a standing ovation and then go to dinner?’. We didn’t have to wait long as we were choreographed into being videoed chanting ‘Free Sentsov’, Oleg Sentsov a film maker in a Russian prison for alleged acts of terrorism and currently on hunger strike, by one of the productions co-directors Natalia Kaliada. It was fascinating and challenging and has given me lots to think about. I spoke with Natalia Kaliada the next day as part of our DLN session which I’ll blog about separately.
The second piece I saw had an impact on me that I don’t think I’ve previously ever had in a theatre. It was the most moved I have ever been by a piece of theatre. Out The Window by Liza Balkan and directed by Sarah Garton Stanley tells the real story of the death of Otto Vass, a man with mental health problems, after being physically assaulted by four police officers outside a 7-11 store. Liza Balkan saw the last minutes of Otto Vass’s life out of her window. The piece uses verbatim interviews and court transcripts, a physical and visual style, and artist and activist Syrus Marcus Ware drew a portrait of Vass throughout the first two acts of the piece. So although Vass’s voice is not heard, his presence is respected and felt. I loved the piece from the beginning but in the third act, all actors dropped their characters and presented as versions of themselves, they invited people to eat with them and they talked about other people in portraits who had the same experience as Otto Vass. And the Bruised Years Choir sang Everybody Hurts. I have never experienced survivors of mental health problems or the families of those with mental health problems singing to those of us who know what they meant, ‘Hold On, hold on’. They were singing it to me, to a member of my close family who couldn’t hold on, and to a close friend who also found the struggle of holding on too great. God it was so powerful. The humanity of that. The kindness. Reaching out. I couldn’t speak for two hours after the show but kept replaying it all in my mind. More to come about the impact of this on me as a person and me as a practitioner. But isn’t it wonderful to be part of the community that can do this to other people, can communicate humanity, share kindness and reach out.
A massive thank you to British Council Canada, Directors Lab North and the whole team there, ARC Stockton UK and the Luminato Festival Toronto for this unbelievable experience. And a huge thank you to my fellow labbies - we united!
I think we all came away from Directors Lab North changed in some way – more questions, inspired, fired up, more confident about our voices, and keen to find new directions and develop new collaborations. This activists door is always open.
I want to support and honour the land acknowledgement of Tarragon Theatre, Toronto, acknowledging the sacred land on which we gathered and operated, as the traditional territory of the Huron-Wendat and Petun First Nations, The Seneca, the Mississaugas of the New Credit, and any other nations who cared for the land in its history.
The territory is the subject of the Dish With One Spoon Wampum Belt Covenant, an agreement between the Haudenosaunee Confederacy and Confederacy of the Ojibwe and allied nations to peaceably share and care for the resources around the Great Lakes.
Today, the meeting place of Toronto is still the home to many indigenous people from across Turtle Island and I was grateful to work in the community, on that territory.
Context of My International Visit to Canada
I’m not a natural navel gazer, nor do I boast about opportunities afforded me, but I genuinely have always dreamed of going to Canada. I’m choosing to record and archive my experience as a disabled practitioner, and aim to contribute to discourses around, a) the equal status of disabled citizens and any injustices I witness or experience, and b) the equal status of the autonomous voices and artistic contribution of disabled people on many levels, in varying ways, across culture.
About 18 months ago, I decided that I wanted to explore some international possibilities, but then I didn’t even know opportunities like Directors Lab North in Toronto existed. Being selected to attend, in many ways, felt like I was risk-taking, with no other self-identifying disabled people attending, without a history of disabled people attending, to my knowledge, and not really appreciating the circumstances that both disabled and non-disabled artists in Canada and the US make their work – the systems and structures available to them.
And in honesty, I wasn’t sure whether what I have to offer was of value in this new context. There is a cyclic experience I encounter, where, as an artist from a less represented community, with historically less opportunities open to us due to societal prejudices and systemic failings, we must take on the role of both artist and educator, of both creative and campaigner, of both diplomat and activist. In diversity terms, not to in any way to diminish anyone else’s experience of discrimination and oppression, disability, because of all the social and historical baggage attached to common perceptions, usually finds itself at the bottom of everyone’s priority list. It’s often so difficult to get past the word ‘disability’, so conflated is it with inability, illness and incapacity. As a direct result of this conflation, in my own experience, it feels like disability is the only ‘other’ which the mainstream feels it can, wittingly or unwittingly, legitimately continue to represent as ‘less than’.
As I have said on many occasions, disabled artists are some of the most exciting and innovative people creating work today, as we challenge form, challenge content and absolutely challenge the dominant artistic status quo. And yet, often, due to the baggage, our work is perceived as ‘less than’ and you can see the shutters coming down once the word disability is introduced to artistic discussions. I remember chatting to a senior member of Arts Council staff about contemporary theatre in the UK, who literally glazed over once I mentioned that I work in disabled-led arts, took out his phone to check messages mid-conversation. Less than.
I have been able to reflect that I am at a shifting point in my career as an artist and as a voice within disabled-led arts working towards artistic and cultural equality for our community. If I can speak out, and this is just for me, I have a responsibility to do so. And I am driven to make the best, most compelling, powerful, meaningful, relevant work that I can, with thoughtful and analytical practice.
One of the most exciting elements of Directors Lab North and of the Toronto Luminato Theatre Festival (which, along with the British Council also supported our programme) was the theme of activism and what role activism has on the creative life of an artist. Right up my street. Invaluable.
The Theme of Activism
All 28 of us directors had answered a question on our application forms about whether it is necessary for the role of an artist to also be an activist, and if so, how do we do this effectively and theatrically without alienating an audience? We were all so different in many ways, those forms must have made for very interesting reading. These are matters I face daily in my practice – making sure the activism is in the form of excellent art, and discovering new ways to get audiences to both engage and invest in the work. It was such a luxury to see work at Luminato, to discuss it, to share practice, to meet guest speakers and practitioners and to explore different approaches.
Specific discussion points which have stayed with me relate to questions about
- who can tell the stories of people from diverse communities (whatever the mist screen of ‘diversity’ actually means), a concern and sometimes indignation for some non-diverse artists to feel they couldn’t explore these other peoples’ stories with authenticity
- the impact of access considerations on a non-disabled artists work, some real concerns about how to publicise trigger warnings, and make work accessible without artistic compromise.
- whether we want audiences to think or feel, this was a fascinating, at time binary discussion but really interesting to hear other directors thoughts on this and it gave room to discuss what we want to share with our audiences
- the roles of politeness and agency in theatrical settings, from the word go, in both the first theatre show we went to see which was largely ‘no-choice’ audience participation, and our first guest director, the differences between polite respect for someone’s position either as an artist or as an audience member, and sincerely intended enquiring questioning about supporting new and diverse stories to be developed in mainstream settings became evident. Again, we didn’t know what we didn’t know about each other.
- And crucially important to me is my ongoing research into how internationally acclaimed artists describe or ‘pitch’ their work to reach audiences and persuade programmers of the value of their activism as works of art.
I’ll blog separately about some of these discussions and the learning involved.
In a hugely conflicted world, it is essential to speak out, to be accountable and to build bridges. Artists have an important role to play in the conversations about society, humanity and, in these difficult times, resistance. And also to be a community. It’s not enough for me to stand on the shoulders of the disability rights movement, to sit back and observe the world, take public funding and make out of context, status quo serving, socially apolitical, comfortable and privileged work. I’m also going to be really careful that my work does not conflate disability with illness and ability, and I will not perpetuate existing stereotypes and tropes that exist around disability. So my practice is careful, considered and challenges me.
Cultural differences
It became apparent immediately that there were cultural differences between US, Canada, European and UK participants that perhaps none of us had given much thought to in advance. And there were a variety of intersectional differences between all of us wherever we were from. It took a while to acclimatize to each other and to work out what we didn’t know about each other. It was both a huge and beautiful learning process. There were matters of communication – politeness versus enquiring questions, straight talking versus diplomacy, diversity versus mainstream, political versus apolitical, political versus entertainment, perceptions of construction of identity including gender, disability, LGBTQI, social class, race and age. All genuinely fascinating and the impressive thing was the level of genuine mutual respect amongst the group. The word ‘versus’ was removed from the discussion.
We realized that all of the six UK based directors, not exclusively, were all mission led. We all make work for a specific purpose which is socially engaged. Other directors were perhaps led by a particular theory of practice, or a specific form, and others were jobbing directors, often working as unpaid assistant directors for the experience as an accepted part of the existing hierarchy. It was fascinating to see how our discussions unfolded and then also how are practice was shared and demonstrated. And we were able to have conversations about some of the fundamentals of a rehearsal room – do we do warm ups, how do we do them, why do we do them and also, how much table work do we do, if any, depending on our training and our approach to the process. We rarely get to spend time in other directors rehearsals so this was really interesting. I learned so much that I will continue to use.
One of the biggest cultural differences was of course the role of indigenous artists activism, artistry and protection of the true history of indigenous people in Canada and their experiences at the hands of settlers. One of the guest directors who presented to us was the amazing Jill Carter, Assistant Professor, Centre for Drama, Centre for Indigenous Studies, University of Toronto. She talked with passion about the representation of indigenous women, and characters created by both non-indigenous people and indigenous artists. It was absolutely fascinating. I could happily have spent the whole day with her. We also got to see a production called bug by Yolanda Bonnell, a queer performer and playwright of Ojibwe and South Asian descent, hailing from the Fort William First Nation Indian Reserve in Thunder Bay, Ontario. The piece was haunting and challenging on many levels, with Bonnell playing many women, and weaving the creation story throughout. Bonnell was captivating as she moved from character to character with great skill and expertise. Though painful, the piece concluded with hope for future women and the safeguarding of the land. It was brilliant to be part of discussions involving such strong women.
High Impact Work
Two pieces of work had a really big impact on me, in quite different ways. I’d say both were politically urgent pieces – often where I position my own work – delivered and followed up in quite different ways. The first was Burning Doors by Belarus Free Theatre who had combined forces with Pussy Riot’s Maria Alyokhina – a pulsing, visceral and physical piece sharing stories of persecuted artists, living under dictatorship, who will not be silenced. It was powerful and relentless in its anger and fire. For me, the intensity is shocking, and then sadly numbing, the audience breathing a sigh of relief when it is over but not really knowing what to do with its new information. ‘Isn’t this where we clap enthusiastically, perhaps give a standing ovation and then go to dinner?’. We didn’t have to wait long as we were choreographed into being videoed chanting ‘Free Sentsov’, Oleg Sentsov a film maker in a Russian prison for alleged acts of terrorism and currently on hunger strike, by one of the productions co-directors Natalia Kaliada. It was fascinating and challenging and has given me lots to think about. I spoke with Natalia Kaliada the next day as part of our DLN session which I’ll blog about separately.
The second piece I saw had an impact on me that I don’t think I’ve previously ever had in a theatre. It was the most moved I have ever been by a piece of theatre. Out The Window by Liza Balkan and directed by Sarah Garton Stanley tells the real story of the death of Otto Vass, a man with mental health problems, after being physically assaulted by four police officers outside a 7-11 store. Liza Balkan saw the last minutes of Otto Vass’s life out of her window. The piece uses verbatim interviews and court transcripts, a physical and visual style, and artist and activist Syrus Marcus Ware drew a portrait of Vass throughout the first two acts of the piece. So although Vass’s voice is not heard, his presence is respected and felt. I loved the piece from the beginning but in the third act, all actors dropped their characters and presented as versions of themselves, they invited people to eat with them and they talked about other people in portraits who had the same experience as Otto Vass. And the Bruised Years Choir sang Everybody Hurts. I have never experienced survivors of mental health problems or the families of those with mental health problems singing to those of us who know what they meant, ‘Hold On, hold on’. They were singing it to me, to a member of my close family who couldn’t hold on, and to a close friend who also found the struggle of holding on too great. God it was so powerful. The humanity of that. The kindness. Reaching out. I couldn’t speak for two hours after the show but kept replaying it all in my mind. More to come about the impact of this on me as a person and me as a practitioner. But isn’t it wonderful to be part of the community that can do this to other people, can communicate humanity, share kindness and reach out.
A massive thank you to British Council Canada, Directors Lab North and the whole team there, ARC Stockton UK and the Luminato Festival Toronto for this unbelievable experience. And a huge thank you to my fellow labbies - we united!
I think we all came away from Directors Lab North changed in some way – more questions, inspired, fired up, more confident about our voices, and keen to find new directions and develop new collaborations. This activists door is always open.
Vici Wreford-Sinnott is founding Artistic Director of Little Cog, a disabled-led theatre company, and is Co-Founder of Cultural Shift, a strategic artistic platform for disabled artists. A leading voice in the Disability Arts and disabled-led arts movements, she has been selected by the British Council Canada and the Lab's organisers to attend Directors Lab North in Toronto.
NB This blog has featured previously on Vici Wreford-Sinnott's older blog page and British Council's blog.
NB This blog has featured previously on Vici Wreford-Sinnott's older blog page and British Council's blog.
Image description - a lively Toronto skyline with colourful skyscrapers and landmarks lit up against the night sky
I've got a couple of lists on the go, there are 14 tabs open on my lap top, a suitcase open with good intentions and kids to feed within the next hour.
I’m in that pre-adventure terror haze. And I am about to have an adventure. I’ve been lucky enough to be selected by the British Council Canada and Directors Lab North (Toronto, Canada) to attend a 28 strong, 10-day theatre directors laboratory. 28 artistic directors from all over the world and I am one of 6 UK directors attending, all bringing different technical and philosophical approaches to theatre.
I’ve never been to Canada (though is has long been a dream) and I haven’t met any of the other directors before. As far as I know, none of the other directors are self-identifying disabled people – although I will obviously do my research to check out the fellow crip-stats and report back in my return blog. It’s a very exciting opportunity – we’ll be attending workshops, talks, presentations, an arts festival, theatre shows, art form and critique discussions, some us are leading sessions and there is a mysterious playwrights project so there is going to be lots of learning, exchanging and informing. It’s not often to be afforded the time and space for professional and creative development, so this feels like a real luxury.
And it’s quite daunting. Wondering where I’ll fit, are my/our stories and aesthetics interesting to this new audience, and will it be accessible and comfortable. I’m reassured to note that many of the other directors are all from diverse backgrounds – many of us are probably striving to ensure that amazing stories of often hidden people and cultures are given a place in our flagship theatres. And it’s clear that within so-called ‘diversity’ there is much innovation in the way that we reach and engage audiences, informing our practice. I’m looking forward to discussions in this area, and how and why we make theatre relevant in the 21st century in the midst of a technical and digital revolution. What is it about a live exchange that gives theatre its rich power and how does that translate in the modern world?
Practitioners attending are actively engaged in bringing about increased understanding, and social and cultural change, so I know there will be many notes and experiences to share. Everyone will bring a different voice, sharing practice and both introducing and learning new techniques and practices. And we will inevitably become an international network of practitioners – what a brilliant opportunity.
Oh and as for access, so far the British Council and the organisers of the Lab could not have done more to meet my access requirements…from the every-day things, to the extent of spotting that one of the outdoor festival events available to us is standing only and are solution seeking rather than saying ‘oh sorry, you can’t go to that one’. So far, so good. If I had time to pinch myself I would, but things need crossing off these lists and that empty suitcase is staring at me. I’ll keep you posted.
I’m in that pre-adventure terror haze. And I am about to have an adventure. I’ve been lucky enough to be selected by the British Council Canada and Directors Lab North (Toronto, Canada) to attend a 28 strong, 10-day theatre directors laboratory. 28 artistic directors from all over the world and I am one of 6 UK directors attending, all bringing different technical and philosophical approaches to theatre.
I’ve never been to Canada (though is has long been a dream) and I haven’t met any of the other directors before. As far as I know, none of the other directors are self-identifying disabled people – although I will obviously do my research to check out the fellow crip-stats and report back in my return blog. It’s a very exciting opportunity – we’ll be attending workshops, talks, presentations, an arts festival, theatre shows, art form and critique discussions, some us are leading sessions and there is a mysterious playwrights project so there is going to be lots of learning, exchanging and informing. It’s not often to be afforded the time and space for professional and creative development, so this feels like a real luxury.
And it’s quite daunting. Wondering where I’ll fit, are my/our stories and aesthetics interesting to this new audience, and will it be accessible and comfortable. I’m reassured to note that many of the other directors are all from diverse backgrounds – many of us are probably striving to ensure that amazing stories of often hidden people and cultures are given a place in our flagship theatres. And it’s clear that within so-called ‘diversity’ there is much innovation in the way that we reach and engage audiences, informing our practice. I’m looking forward to discussions in this area, and how and why we make theatre relevant in the 21st century in the midst of a technical and digital revolution. What is it about a live exchange that gives theatre its rich power and how does that translate in the modern world?
Practitioners attending are actively engaged in bringing about increased understanding, and social and cultural change, so I know there will be many notes and experiences to share. Everyone will bring a different voice, sharing practice and both introducing and learning new techniques and practices. And we will inevitably become an international network of practitioners – what a brilliant opportunity.
Oh and as for access, so far the British Council and the organisers of the Lab could not have done more to meet my access requirements…from the every-day things, to the extent of spotting that one of the outdoor festival events available to us is standing only and are solution seeking rather than saying ‘oh sorry, you can’t go to that one’. So far, so good. If I had time to pinch myself I would, but things need crossing off these lists and that empty suitcase is staring at me. I’ll keep you posted.
Image description - a dramatic theatre set in darkness with lots of spotlights on an area of brick structures. There are window frames hanging above the space.
Image description - a green slide with dressing room mirror lights around the edge with the words Access This Way and an arrow pointing right written on it
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