My dear friend
You were right of course in the things you said when we last spoke. January came and went and we landed ourselves in February and (just as you predicted) already I have forgotten the sense of resolution with which I entered the new year. It is true that I have long ago stopped writing things down, telling myself that this is the year I will begin this or finish that. But even without the written resolutions, as the new year begins, I still have a sense, a feeling, that this will be the year.
You were right to roll your eyes, to give that little laugh, to ask, ‘Yes, but what, what is it that will make this year different to the last?’ Because here we are, in February, Christmas has passed, the New Year and my birthday and I am back where I always am. Slightly restless, waiting for whatever it is I’m waiting for to arrive.
The rhythm of the year is certainly different to the last four. As you know I decided not to put on a new show at this year’s fringe. But we did film three of the previous shows and put them together as one. (‘Can I buy my ticket yet?’ I hear you ask, Why yes! Yes you can, and wherever you are in the world you can watch.)
What a beautiful experience that was. Filmed in a shed transformed into a theatre, down one lane and then another. The days were hot and dry—the kind of weather that gives everything an edge. Wondering: where are we going? And then, through a tiny door into this magical world that has been created with blackout curtains and a soft-tiled floor.
This was something entirely new, this new hybrid online theatre that Joanne and Tom have been working on. It’s theatre with an audience, but also filmed. And not just filming the piece like we do to keep a record, but making sure it’s made for the audience on the other side of the camera as well. Creating something that’s the same as it was, but also something else. With simple (but stunning) additions to the lighting and the set, Tom and Joanne transformed each of the shows, making them more theatrically substantial, but capturing even more carefully the fragility at the heart of each of the stories.
Our audience for this first stream was small. In the room were the crew plus ten audience members, then somewhere out in their homes, our invited livestream audience. In the room, the audience sat at a safe distance from each other and from me and of course I couldn’t see who was watching the livestream.
The distance between each person in the audience, the presence of the cameras, the focus of the crew … because of each of these we were in silence for the last five minutes as we waited for the stream to go live. It is rare to sit in silence in a group like that and at first it was unsettling. But as I brought my attention to the moment, reminding myself as I always do of the first few lines, I understood that this was the perfect preparation for a show such as mine. That these were the perfect conditions for creating a sense of connection between us all. We would take this shared experience of silence into the show. This silence was our momentum.
And somehow even though I had this immediate connection with each of the people in the room and watching online at that time, somehow (and this is despite knowing you were yet to arrive), somehow I could feel you on the other side of the camera.
Writing and learning scripts can be a tedious way to spend time, but these were magical days. Perhaps that’s why I’m not sure what to do with the rest of the year. What do I do now except wait for you to watch?
My birthday didn’t help, this being one of those ages of no particular significance, sitting awkwardly between this age and the next. Uneven in both number and in fact. Around me, people always saying, ‘age is just a number.’ When I hear someone say this, I think (but never say), ‘No, it’s not, it’s so much more than just a number.’ Age is an accumulation of action and emotion. Why are we so anxious to dismiss this?
Before I get too far down that rabbit hole, I had better get going. I am off to the red-fruit shop to get a new battery for my phone. Apparently my battery is significantly degraded and that’s why the phone is so often over-heating. This seems an appropriate summation of things, eh?
I will write again soon. Despite having done so little these last few weeks, I have a lot to tell you. Until then, as always I send you my love, and my wish for gentle days.
Tracy xx
Sending love back to you Tracy, and thanks to you for sharing your words like this.
Tracy, your writing is so very beautiful; thank you for the letter, it was a treat. I will certainly tune in and watch the mentioned offering. Take care and watch out for pesky resolutions; they tend to emerge when there is any downtime to be had!