Having spent countless hours among the other mentees, taking and providing criticism (always constructive) on varying projects, we were given the opportunity to present some of our work to professionals in the theatre sector. When preparing a piece of work to present to a room full of strangers I tend to over think the prospect, allowing it to become a monster determined on devouring me. In the session running up to the presentation Gavin posed a question to our group; ‘what do you want from the presentation?’ Sitting amongst the other mentees I thought ‘I just want it over’. I had no definite answer to his question. Visions filled my head on how my work would be received. Images switching sporadically between wads of cash or rotten fruit being thrown from our gathered audience. Both scenarios were equally as terrifying, a face full of fruit would be embarrassing but an influx of capital would bring paralyzing pressure to succeed. The weeks inevitably passed and the day of reckoning flew closer and closer. I decided on presenting Play on Words, a piece that will be shown in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival by Tiger’s Eye Theatre Company. A safe bet, it is a play that is happening anyway it had a run out at the Scene and Heard Festival, it may not be loved but it certainly won’t be hated (hopefully). Box ticked. Job done. Yet Gavin’s question still bothered me, what did I want from the presentation?
On the 20th May, we gathered in the Belltable Hub and soaked up the nervous energy. Each person assuring the next that ‘it’ll be grand’ and ‘it’s no big deal’. We practised the running order with plenty of nervous laughter and awkward timing. There is nothing like a group of strangers to be honest about your art. These were professionals after all, not Mammy and Daddy patronising placing your work on the family fridge. At 2pm we were prepared for battle. Our invited audience filed into their chairs, nobody carried boxes of rotten fruit thankfully. The presentations came and went without any stumbles or issues. As each person finished their presentation the room became lighter and lighter; the cloud of potential screw ups lifted from the room. The relief was palpable, ironic that a group of theatre makers were so jittery about a four-minute presentation. Having completed my own presentation, I relaxed and enjoyed the pitches from my peers. My mind drifted to Gavin’s question, ‘What do you want?’ and it hit me. Sitting amongst representatives of the theatre community, each at different points in their careers, I wanted reassurance that what we are doing is worth it. That you can create art and lead a happy life. That the ‘struggling artist’ title does not have to be a lifetime sentence. And it is possible, it’s not a lifetime sentence. It is by no means a simple task, but it is possible. It is easy to become fatigued and disheartened working in theatre as you constantly struggle for employment and funding. I have gone through stages of bitter self-doubt when attempting to justify my career choice to friends and family.
The presentations carried out on the 20th May gave an insight into differing theatre projects, but more importantly for me it revitalised my passion for the art. If a room full of intelligent and talented individuals see the worth in pursuing their passion, then I owe it to myself to do the same. We push ourselves to the point of self-destruction to pursue our passion, and we always survive. That’s the fun in theatre, that’s the fun in living.