‘Unsung’ R&D: Newbie nerves

Image by Steve001 from Pixabay 

So here I am, days away from starting my first R&D (research & development) project. I’ve never run one before so nervous energy is high. The storm before the calm? The R&D is for a theatre piece I’m at the early stages of making, working title ‘Unsung’. It’s an exploration of the Medusa myth, with a feminist take on the old tale.

This is a big project for me. My first in-person creative project since relocating to the South-West from London, since emerging from an extended career break for kids, since emerging from lockdown. I feel a bit like a mole blinking in the daylight and am having to clamp down on that bubbling feeling of imposter syndrome. On paper, this looks like the start of the project, but in fact, it all began a while back…(cue some kind of atmospheric music).

I was sat in Chococo one day, reading a brand new book of poetry I’d been given as a gift from my other half. ‘Vertigo & Ghost’ by Fiona Benson (a great collection btw, that combines myth and domesticity). In one poem she drops the bombshell that Medusa is raped by Poseidon and THEN is turned into the famous snake-headed monster by Athena as a result. How had I not come across this part of the story before?? Fine, Perseus’ heroic deeds, scary snake-woman, I’d heard all that stuff when I was a child, culturally it’s told and retold. But not the first bit. The sexual violence bit. The ‘god in a position of power who gets away scot-free and then the victim bears the brunt of it’ bit.

So with that bit of feminist rage burning, the nugget of the idea was born. It was nurtured a bit during my time on the Northcott Futures Program with the patient and encouraging support of Helen Bovey and Scratchworks Theatre and then road-tested at a digital scratch hosted by Exeter Northcott Theatre. And alongside the idea, something else was nurtured – me. During these recent strange Coviddy times, coupled with the isolation of early parenting, local creative networks became a lifeline for me, connecting me to other artists and makers both via the Northcott and the excellent Mothers Who Make Devon. They gave me the chance to exercise my creativity and just to see friendly faces who ‘get it’, albeit via a tiny, sometimes frozen, zoom screen. And with this gently nurtured creative confidence, I applied for an R&D slot at this year’s Exeter Fringe Festival. And got selected! And then, pushing my luck, I applied for Arts Council funding…and got it! My first successful application! It was all quite unexpected but extremely motivating. It also feels like it has nudged me to take the week more seriously, to plan a bit more, and ultimately to believe in it a little more.

Even through the initial planning sessions I’ve had with the director for the R&D, Roisin McCay-Hines, I’m discovering lots. I’m not necessarily wanting to retell the myth, but perhaps to explore what happens when people are given labels (God, Hero, Monster). How does that stop your sense of self from evolving? How does that affect how we as outsiders view those characters? What happens when we are allowed to imagine the inner world of these archetypal characters as well as viewing them from afar. Natalie Haynes talks about this in her fantastic recent show on Radio 4 all about Medusa – how come we often wonder what it would feel like to BE King Midas but we only ever imagine what it would be like to SEE Medusa. Well, watch this space, people.

Roisin has done an amazing job of pulling together exercises and structure for the week ahead. As composer Jack Dean commented – she’s created enough material to fill weeks’ worth of R&Ds! I decided to ask someone else to direct the week so my mind is a bit more free to participate and explore without the added pressure of running the room. As a newbie to the South-West, I’ve never worked with any of the team directly, so it is a leap of faith from all involved. I love the energy that creates – we don’t have familiarity to lean into.

I am definitely feeling my way with this project, slightly blindly at times, at other times with an instinctive sense of what I want. I made a choice over the last few years to try and follow my instincts more closely, especially when it comes to creating. One of the things being a parent is teaching me is that learning as you go (er, some might say winging it) is not only an acceptable way to be, it can also be quite empowering. I’m learning to rely less on that ‘what should I be doing…?’ and focus more on the ‘what do I want to be doing….?’. At this point in the process, I do not know exactly where we are heading with ‘Unsung’ and I am (learning to) be OK with that, despite my inner control freak hopping about anxiously in my peripheral vision.

My head is predictably full of admin tasks ahead of the R&D. Working part-time around my caring commitments is challenging and I’m learning I need to make my planning timelines much longer as a result. I’m also just plain anxious. ‘Am I making the best use of this time, this space, these people? Is it going to give me what I hope it will?’ As a mum of three kids under the age of 7, my head is also full with a bunch of parental nerves on top of the creative planning stuff. Mainly crossing fingers none of them gets ill – it is that time of year when kiddie germs have a habit of derailing the best-laid plans. But perhaps also this project symbolises one of the many shifts we go through as parents, as mums. I’m entering a new chapter where the care of my children isn’t quite so heavily dependent on me. I’m starting to leave the baby years, the breastfeeding years behind, which brings with it a mixed bag of emotions: freedom, excitement but also a sense of loss and a physical detachment that feels very strange. I feel slightly too slow, too soft around the edges to be back in the dynamic world of work and ideas and deadlines and professionalism. If I’m being totally honest, I’m a little scared I’m not strong enough to face it all again.

So stepping into that rehearsal room next week marks the start of a new chapter for ‘Unsung’, for me as a theatre-maker, and for me as a parent. I’m feeling proud of myself for getting my act together enough just to make this project happen, regardless of the outcome. Now let’s hope that the week stirs up some juicy ideas and discoveries about heroes, monsters and the stories we choose to retell. Follow me on twitter to find out how we get on.