I started writing for the stage back in the early 2000s. My first play, Jam, was on at the first ever 24:7 Theatre Festival (2004) and did pretty well. I felt bolstered and desperate to get back into the writer's seat and to write more. At the same time, Studio Salford had just kind of happened - James "Jimmy" Foster had put together a production of The Weir (by Conor McPherson) with fellow performers, Sue Jaynes, Neil Bell, Ian Curley, Joe O'Byrne and Josh Moran. At the time, there was no fringe scene in Salford or Manchester. There were all these creatives graduating from Salford Uni and the like, with no outlet. And so Studio Salford emerged.
One of the great light-bulb moments in the early inception of Studio Salford was Embryo.
Embryo was a brilliant idea and a fantastic event, organised by Jimmy Foster and Julia Nelson. Just look at the list of names at the end of that video - there are some really well-known performers in there. It was the start of something for everyone involved. I guess we were all mostly in our 20s and could stay up late, so it always turned into a post-show party. And people discussed and cross-pollinated and new collaborations emerged. A bit of a scene was born.
I performed at the first ever Embryo as a singer songwriter. Yes, a long time ago I was writing songs, wearing berets and smoking Gitanes (well, hats don't suit me and I hate smoking - I'm just building the scene).
Embryo became my go-to event for trying out my new stage-writing work. Each slot was 10mins, so every 6 weeks I'd always have a new bit of a play I was working on and some great actor friends who were willing to humour my clunky writing and give their all so that we could try a couple of pages out in front of an audience. And the audience gave honest feedback.
And that feedback was essential. Writing is a very solitary pursuit, unless you work in a collaboration. It's sometimes difficult to recognise whether your intentions translate into action and dialogue. Embryo became an essential part of the process for me. It gave me an opportunity to get feedback from an audience, which I would do my best to interpret and action. But, often most importantly, it gave me a chance to get together with some actors and to try out the words on the page, to work with the actor to create some deeper back-story, and to hear their voices out loud. So, whenever I went back to the writing, I could hear them and see them in my head. And I could just follow them around and write down what they did.
Embryo ran as a regular event for over 10 years and is now running as an irregular accompaniment to Development Week which has become Studio Salford's opportunity to get new work out to the people. Unfortunately we couldn't get Embryo up and running for Development Week 9, but we are determined to bring it back for Development Week 10 at the end of September.
The point of this rather self-indulgent nostalgia is to express how audience feedback has been an essential part in the development of my work. My writing had found an outlet and, most importantly, an opportunity to try it out in a non-judgemental environment. I mean, people would certainly let you know if it was rubbish - but it was always in a constructive way that wasn't soul destroying. Feedback is an art form - I've been in meetings where the feedback has left me not far from quitting, and that wasn't particularly helpful; mainly because I was never going to quit, but someone had tried. At least, that's how it had felt. We need backbone in this business - it's your heart and soul on that page and when someone tears it apart, it's difficult to take. But feedback, given sensitively, is a valuable thing. It gives you mileage - it's like a road map of A to Z - it provides an alternative route.
Studio Salford Development Week is an expansion of what I always found so valuable with Embryo. It's an opportunity to try out work. But I haven't really talked much about being part of the audience, and that's a major omission. What was great about Embryo is that you were part of the creative process for someone's piece of work. I've lost count of the work that went from a 10 minute sketch at Embryo and became a big production that toured, won awards, took the artist to the next level, even got turned into a film in some cases. So, I've had a say in the creation of a lot of the work that is now part of the establishment. Actors are now on the screen and on radio, writers are writing for other mediums, are in residence at universities and drama schools and on attachments with established theatres. Maybe, one day, some of that work will be on the A level syllabus. Some have given up, of course - but that spark is always there. And maybe, one day, they'll bring something to Development Week to reignite that spark.
So, come to Development Week and see work at its Embryonic stage. Take part in a workshop and, maybe, you'll meet someone you can collaborate with, write a script that you'll develop and produce or offer some insight into what a piece of work meant for you to help the writer understand how their work travels.
I'll just sign off with a video that was very much part of my Embryo journey. The Nu Romantix was a piece I made solely because I had a video camera and I knew that I'd be able to show it somewhere.
So, enjoy the Embryo gang at their best - when we were being daft for the fun of it.
The song (not great visual quality)
And the accompanying documentary.
Part One -
Part Two - (including the song at higher quality)
And just because I can, here's a joyful song I wrote back in the day with a marvellous performance from Victoria Unthank.
