Collaborative creation starts with connection. For me that's the electric energy between artists that we can build for weeks before ever sharing it with an audience. It's the family building, coming together to work seamlessly, as one. As a wave that can flow over people, that can peak at just the right moment, to then crash spectacularly, and flow again. It's our team putting in countless hours to get everything to perfection. Where words finally are given life from the page, and design helps to immerse someone into an ephemeral world. It's the sharing of food and conversation about what we're making, who needs to see it, and most importantly why, and why now? It's the uncomfortable friction between diverse world-views, and leaning into what will challenge our assumptions and bias. The team then takes those magical moments, breakthroughs, and bonds they've formed to transfer their experience to an audience.
Whether I'm writing or dressing a performer, I always ask who is the closest person in my life to this character. Then, how can I bring touches of that authentic connection to share with the audience. Sometimes supporting a real person to step onto stage makes that more convincing for the audience.
It feels like we're getting more and more disconnected from each other, and from our emotions. Where do we create space to drop our masks, to stop pretending, to be authentic, to laugh and cry together. We're all the same, each with our own complexities. But some through systemic prejudice might have it better or worse than you. How do we punch someone in their gut, rip out their heart and reflect humanity back to them?
© 2022 Rose Kirkup.