Ever felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing? Or a cat dressed as a nun? Having spent the last four years producing for the incredibly talented and delightful Tangram Theatre Company, with whom we created a Scientrilogy of musical plays about our intellectual hero's Darwin, Einstein and Curie, then also working with the world changing and ever inspiring Touretteshero on Backstage in Biscuit Land (for whom I also made an appearance at the end as the slightly sinister looking Cat-Nun), my time has been spent travelling the length and breadth of the country, meeting theatre promoters and talking to the Arts Council, the British Council and all the festival producers... as a producer. It therefore feels very odd and nerve wracking to be approaching them all once more, but as a performer. It feels, for some reason, rather sneaky.
Let me be clear, I am a performer. As one may know, it is difficult to make a living as an artist and most performers have side jobs that allow them to put bread on the table. My sideline ended upbeing producing. Basically I can't be involved in anything without sticking my nose into the running of things. It means I've always ended up producing for the creative projects I've been involved in, for example spending six years producing for the world famous fool Jonathan Kay whilst also living and training with him on the road in his unique fooling technique. But then a few years ago, due to health issues, I found that I couldn't commit to performing in anything as I didn't know from one day to the next whether I'd be available for the performance dates. But I needed to work and so fell into a path of solely producing.
For a while it felt like my performing days were over. A year become four and the producing was going rather well. All of the shows I produced went on to win awards and Backstage in Biscuit Land was picked up by the British Council and the BBC, meaning we were travelling all around the world and performing on the telly. It didn't seem like a train I'd be wise to jump off of. But then an old friend I used to perform with got in touch and invited me to do a slot at the Brighton Fringe and it felt like the universe was inviting me to take that leap. So I did and it has been going well thus far. The reviews from Brighton were positive, but most importantly the friends and family of the woman who the show is about gave it their thumbs up and were reunited with each other, coming together for a heart-warming evening spent drinking and reminiscing. I learnt more about Anne during that night than I had previously achieved from doing all my research.
It's been a wondrous journey and Edinburgh is a magical soul city I adore. To be taking my own show there is a dream come true. But when it means this much to you, it's always terrifying isn't it? But then I think that's why we do it.