The Weight of Words: Finding Humanity in the Writing Process

The theatre, in 2024, has a profound responsibility. In a world increasingly fragmented and isolating, it's a space where we can gather, connect, and remember our shared humanity. As Augusto Boal so powerfully stated, "Theatre is a weapon," and I believe it's a weapon we must wield to combat the loneliness that pervades our modern existence.

One evening, a few months ago, I grew angry. I got so sick of plays that left much to be desired. I grew sick of paying hundreds of dollars to leave a play wondering what I was going to have for dinner as being the most important thought. I felt disconnected and disenchanted. Where have the days gone of the passionate political, human plays in all their experimental glory? So, I thought, I'll give it a go and see what happens. I started writing. "I'll be With You". In my recent "I'll Be With You" conversations, I've been unpacking the intricacies of creating theatre that truly resonates with audiences, theatre that makes them feel seen, heard, and less alone. Today, I want to delve deeper into my own writing journey, exploring the influences and philosophies that have shaped the words on the page.

2013, Griffith Applied Theatre Degree, Ensemble building for 'Something Like Theatre' Festival.

Antonin Artaud, the visionary behind the Theatre of Cruelty, argued that cinema, with its detached and voyeuristic gaze, could never truly replicate the visceral power of live performance. In the theatre, he believed, we have the opportunity to ignite the senses, to create an experience that is both immediate and transformative. This resonates deeply with my own desire to craft theatre that is not merely observed but felt, theatre that leaves an imprint on the soul.

Augusto Boal, the champion of the Theatre of the Oppressed, further expanded my understanding of the audience's role. He envisioned a theatre where spectators become "spect-actors," actively participating in the performance and shaping its meaning. This philosophy has profoundly influenced my approach to writing, reminding me that the audience is not a passive observer but an integral part of the theatrical experience.

Two plays, in particular, have served as guiding lights on this journey: Lucy Kirkwood's "Boy Girl Wall" and Andrew Bovell's "When the Rain Stops Falling." Both works masterfully weave together non-linear narratives, fragmented timelines, and deeply human characters grappling with the weight of their pasts. They demonstrate the power of theatre to explore complex themes with nuance and empathy, leaving a lasting impact on the audience long after the curtain falls.

2013, Bump In 'Something Like Theatre Festival', Sean Young Studios.

2011, The Night I shaved my head on stage for 'St Joan', Griffith Mt Gravatt.

But how do we craft characters that truly resonate with this active, engaged audience? For me, the answer lies in the work of Sarah Kane. Kane's characters are raw, flawed, and undeniably human. They are not simply heroes or villains, but complex individuals capable of both great love and terrible cruelty. This, I believe, is the key to creating characters that audiences can connect with – characters who reflect the messy, contradictory nature of our own humanity. In my writing, I strive to imbue each character with this inherent humanity. They are not plot devices or archetypes, but fully realized individuals with their own desires, flaws, and contradictions. Even when they make poor choices, there's a fundamental truth in their actions, a recognition that being human means navigating a world of grey areas, where 'good' and 'evil' are often intertwined.

This brings me to the role of the audience. I believe that the audience enters the theatre space carrying their own life experiences, their own joys and sorrows, their own triumphs and regrets. They place this weight on their laps as they watch the performance unfold, seeking connection and understanding in the stories and characters before them.

It's not simply a matter of using theatrical conventions like direct address to acknowledge their presence. It's about recognising that the audience is an active participant in the creation of meaning, bringing their own unique perspectives to the shared space. It's about crafting a theatrical experience that allows them to see themselves reflected in the characters, to find solace in shared humanity, and to leave the theatre feeling a little less alone.

2013, Performance of 'Here Goes Nothing' directed by Dan Evans, made up of an ensemble of the students from our Griffith theatre devised course, selected to be performed on stage at La Boite.

This brings me to another key influence: The Wooster Group. This experimental theatre collective has long challenged the traditional boundaries between audience and performer, often incorporating technology and multimedia elements to create a truly immersive experience. Their work has inspired me to think beyond the conventional stage and explore new ways of engaging the audience, blurring the lines between the observed and the observer.   

It's this blurring of lines that feels so crucial in today's theatrical landscape. As Richard Schechner, a leading figure in performance studies, astutely observed, theatre has, in many ways, "become a museum of itself." We've become trapped in a cycle of replicating traditional forms and catering to a narrow demographic, leaving many feeling excluded and uninspired. It's time to wake up the audience, to shake them from their complacency and remind them of the raw, visceral power of live performance.

I remember a time, not so long ago, when Brisbane's theatre scene pulsated with a different kind of energy. As a young, aspiring theatre maker navigating my Applied Theatre degree, I remember fondly the openness and accessibility of the creative spaces. There was a sense of community, a shared understanding that theatre belonged to everyone, regardless of their background or experience.

Back then, the stages were alive with the voices of unknowns, the passion of emerging artists, and the raw talent of those who simply yearned to share their stories. There was a freedom to experiment, to take risks, and to create without the burden of exorbitant costs and exclusionary practices. Somewhere along the way, as I pursued other creative endeavors, that vibrant energy seemed to fade. The doors that were once open wide began to close, and the voices that once filled the spaces grew quieter.

2013, Performance of 'The Missing Pages', I'm there playing Alice, During 'Something Like Theatre' festival at Sean Young Studios.

Now, as I return to the Brisbane theatre scene with Loquacious, I feel a renewed sense of urgency to reclaim that spirit of inclusivity and accessibility. I want to create a space where everyone feels welcome, where the boundaries between audience and performer dissolve, and where the transformative power of theatre is unleashed. And so, with "I'll be With You," I invite you to join me on this journey in reclaiming the power of theatre. Let us tear down the walls that separate us, embrace the vulnerability of shared experience, and rediscover the magic that happens when we gather in the liminal space between stage and audience.

For we, as creatives, hold the greatest power on this earth. We are the weavers of stories, the conjurers of emotions, the architects of empathy. Through our art, we spark a conversation that transcends the boundaries of space and time, a conversation that whispers, "I know you, I see you, you are not alone."

In this world of uncertainty and turmoil, where taxes appear as the black hound of adulthood, the planet groans under the weight of our actions, and cruelty seems to reign supreme, art becomes our refuge, our weapon, our solace. It is through art that we find the strength to heal, to connect, to hold one another in the space of our hearts and minds.

And that, my friends, is what truly matters. It is in those moments of shared humanity, those fleeting instances of connection and understanding, that we find the courage to face the darkness and build a brighter future. Let us, together, embrace the power of theatre to illuminate the path forward, one story, one performance, one shared breath at a time.

Charlotte X