MIDDLE CHILD THEATRE: Opportunity knocks for ‘new and developing Hull-based writers’
Writers with a meaningful connection to Hull are invited to apply for one of seven new commissions for the 2025 festival. Applications are open until 10 September.
Middle Child invited us to chat with a couple of the writers commissioned for the 2024 Fresh Ink Festival about their writing and experience with the process.
Fresh Ink is a theatre festival developed by company Middle Child Theatre: a company committed to creating plays “for audiences who think they don’t like theatre”. Celebrating new and developing Hull-based writers, Fresh Ink boasts a varied programme including script-in-hand performances of early version plays, writer workshops, and industry talks.
Middle Child invited us to sit and watch the festival, and chat with a couple of the writers commissioned to create works for the festival.
Andrew Houghton, ‘Phobia’
We sat down with Andrew a couple of weeks after the first performance of their play, ‘Phobia’. Partially drawing on their own experiences with gender identity, ‘Phobia’ tackles the difficult conversations that take place between a parent and child. Stranded at the top of a ride at Hull fair, Alex and his father have no choice but to talk through topics they’d rather avoid. Reflecting on Phobia after its performance, we discuss identity, big conversations, and control over your writing.
How did you get involved with Fresh Ink? And what drew you to it?
I heard about it through Middle Child’s mailing list as I was aware of Middle Child’s work from before. I tried to connect with them with my own theatre company, Pink Milk, when I toured some work before. I’ve always been a fan of their work. I got the email and saw they weren’t looking for big, finished pieces, they were looking for ideas. It got me thinking, ‘What kind of thing would I write?’
How did you find the process of developing your initial concept? What did the structure look like?
Mine was mostly meetings, but I think everyone will have done it differently. Middle Child will ask, ‘How do you want to do it? Do you have ideas you really want to work through, and we can sit here and watch all the ideas? Or do you want to send specific sections?’ Because of the way I am, I’m kind of a perfectionist. I’m so bad at letting people see work until I feel finished. So, I wanted to do it in a quite basic, normal way where I come up with a draft and we talk about it. Then I go away, do notes, and come up with it. I think they were up for anything, but I was like, ‘I just want to do it really traditionally.’
The personalisation of the process really worked for me. I did mine quite early on and quite quickly – there wasn’t a timeline for everyone that was the same. I explained to Matthew that I was about to start a new job in a month. Matthew was like, ‘Okay, let’s just fast track this.’ So, I had already submitted my second draft before anyone had done their first draft.
Can you tell us about why you wrote the piece and what you draw on?
One of my fondest memories and connections with Hull is the fact that I would always go to Hull Fair with my dad when I was younger and it kind of informed the piece. I thought about that the way that when I was younger, there were a lot of discussions around coming out in terms of sexuality. I did all that figuring out that I was gay when I first came out. But I thought, nowadays, it feels like the kind of conversations they were having around sexuality before are the conversations that people have around gender now. I thought, ‘I wonder what it would be like to come out with my non-binary identity when I was 16.’
I really wanted to have a cross-generation chat between a parent and a kid. As I said, that’s where I always went with my dad and in a previous thing that I’d written.
It is an imagined scenario and it’s not based on anything from my life really. It’s more like I took the idea of having that coming out conversation but nowadays and about gender. And it’s a closed situation as well. If you’re stuck on a ride, you’re forced to meet with each other for that time. You can’t avoid anything. You’re just stuck together. I thought about what would fuel the conversation, so they weren’t just sat in silence. I think a lot of people would just sit with their dad in silence.
How did it feel to see ‘Phobia’ performed?
I was nervous. In the past, I’ve performed my own writing, so I’ve had control over it. Here, the only bit I was responsible for was the writing which made it feel even more exposing. I guess I trust other people more than myself. I felt like I had all these professional people at the top of their game and if this great director can’t make it look good, then clearly, it isn’t right.
It was very interesting because I hadn’t read it very recently, I hadn’t read it since I sent in the last draft. I remember it felt quite fresh to me. It felt very new watching it, especially watching it. I want, on record, I loved my actors. I thought they were so good and they just made it feel new, even for me. They understood everything that I wanted and they hit all the beats I’d written but they also had even more. They brought elements where I was like, ‘Oh, you know what, I don’t think I originally wrote that line with that intention, but I love the way they’ve done that. They just brought it to life in such a satisfying way for me.’
I think they did a really good job at making it feel quite light still. There’s a moment when they’re struggling to communicate but I just thought the way that the cast were playing with each other, it felt like their connection was never at risk really. That was nice because when you’re writing it, you’re contemplating a lot of different options and ways it could go. I think it still felt a bit heavy on the page when I wrote it and I was trying to keep it light but you feel a big conversation to be had. Whereas watching it on the stage, it did carry this weight, but it also just felt like two people – it didn’t feel like a slog or anything. It felt more joyful than I expect it to.
This play is about difficult conversations, and it feels like you’ve opened up a dialogue. What sort of themes and issues did you consider when writing this piece?
The first notion that I wanted to explore – and I think I did successfully – was the idea of talking about something sensitive, like someone’s gender identity, and wanting to get it right. The dad is trying so hard to be correct and the best parent about it but he’s still making a few mistakes and that’s okay. I wanted to show that because I feel people can be a bit xenophobic or queerphobic think that if they get something slightly wrong, they’re going to get their head bitten off. It’s trying to encourage a space where if you approach a situation with the best intentions then if you get it wrong, it’s fine. You’re still trying and trying is what everyone wants you to do. Particularly in pronouns and gender, no one’s on the spot saying you’re the worst person ever. Just move on. It was an active environment with both people trying to be good to each other.
I've written it from a place that I think is authentic. I’m hoping that somewhere out there, there are people having these conversations. I know what you mean about things feelings absolute in media and there’s so much grey space. When you’re talking to someone in person, you have the most communication. When people talk online, there’s so much of people making assumptions about each other. When people talking online, people make assumptions about each other. But if one of my friends in real life said something that shocked me, I’d sit with them and I’d talk to them. I’d be like, ‘Where’s that come from? And I would try and understand them. I think we need to have more conversations like that.’
It's interesting because I came up with what I thought was a really simple idea and then other people have like layered things on it. I did a podcast interview before and the interviewer mentioned that the fact that people say that pieces to do with gender are often traumatic and I had created a trauma-free piece. And I was I didn't even think about creating like a trauma-free thing but that’s really cool, I like that as an idea. It’s just interesting writing something with your idea and other people reading into it in their own way.
Part of the Fresh Ink festival is about generating feedback about your work, were you happy with how ‘Phobia’ was received?
I was overjoyed. Everyone I talked to, I thought, was really lovely and they just liked the relationship between the dad and kid. I mean that’s the heart of it, so I felt really happy. People were so supportive and came up and spoke to me about something that I’d written. It was beautiful. It was such a supportive atmosphere. Even if there is some cutting critique on one of the feedback cards, Matt will be so good at delivering it.
What would you say to people who are thinking of applying to the 2025 commissions? Who would you recommend it to?
Absolutely I would. I would say to anyone who's thinking about it, do it. There are options for everyone - there’s longer piece for people who have written stuff before and have had it published and shorter pieces for people who are just testing things out. For anyone who was thinking about it, please try it. I would particularly recommend it for people who have always thought about maybe writing something and then haven't followed it through. You don’t even have to have an idea. I came across Fresh Ink and then I came up with the idea. I know that matt responds to any idea and they will just take forward what they think could be the best. If you have the time to fill out the application – and it isn't that hard an application -just do it. I didn't think I was going to get accepted and I've had such a wonderful experience.
image: Sergie Komkov
Hannah Scorer, ‘Can We Be Friends?’
Emily Lidgard spoke with Hannah a couple of hours before the first preview of her new play, ‘Can We Be Friends’: a story of a little girl who is struggling to understand why her father isn’t around and a mother who is struggling to explain.
What’s your relationship to playwrighting? How did you get involved in the theatre scene?
I'm fairly new to writing theatre. I didn't really write any theatre until I was in my mid-thirties and I did the Middle Child Writers' Group which is essentially an introduction to playwriting. I've always liked writing – always - and I like seeing theatre. I remember applying and that thinking I won't get in. I thought I didn't know enough about writing a play which isn’t the point - you don't need to know about writing a play. The point actually is you should do the writers’ group if you don't know about writing a play. So that was my starting point for writing theatre. I'd written professionally, but I hadn't really written anything creative for years at that point. But I just loved it, and I don't think anything could have prepared me for how exciting it feels when people perform something that you've written.
What sorts of themes were you trying to portray in your writing?
Miscommunication definitely runs throughout the play because the characters are frequently saying one thing out loud but probably communicating another. Family is also, obviously, is a big one. Parenting – kind of your sense of self as a person when you become a parent and how that gets lost. Relationships - romantic ones. But also, our other intimate relationships like friendship are a huge theme of it.
I think that you can't put enough value on female friendships and the relationships that women have with each other. Straight cis romantic relationships are the ones that are socially celebrated and aspired to. I went through a divorce and then a period of being a single parent - there my friendships outlasted my marriage. Often socially, I think it is our friendships that are more important to us, more valuable, and last longer than any romantic relationships do.
A lot of us have been guilty of putting our female friendships on the back burner when we are excited about a romantic relationship. It’s kind of a cliché but it’s your friends who are there to pick you up and carry you through the rough bits.
It sounds like these complex relationships are central to the play. Can you tell me more about how ‘Can We Be Friends’ navigates these tricky familial dynamics?
In the play, I’ve imagined a child trying to navigate a much more difficult question of why their dad isn’t present at all. Children expect you to have all the answers to everything and as parents we don't have those answers – it’s really hard to explain in a child-friendly way why their dad doesn't live in their house with you and why your marriage broke down.
The social structure of everything is structured towards a traditional nuclear family. There are loads of ways to have a family but I think sometimes we don’t know those ways. They’re not very accessible or talked about – they are seen as lesser even if you can have a non-traditional family now.
If you’re not in a couple, things are so much more expensive and difficult. On top of that, there’s the pressure of it all. Whether it’s affording things or doing all the boring jobs and chores, that’s all on you. I don't really know what the answer to that is.
How do you feel about this draft of the play?
I have gone through a lot of different phases and I'm still cycling through them. Sometimes I'm like, ‘No, this is good, it's a good script’. But I still have moments where I thoroughly question it and I'm like, ‘Who am I to be writing a play? This is a boring idea, and nobody will want to see it.’ But I think doubt has to be part of the process. I think that if you were like, ‘Yeah, I’m confident and it’s a great script. That’s probably not a very good place to be.’
A bit of doubt is good means you are going to be looking for ways to make it better. In under an hour, it'll be the first time that I've seen it in front of an audience, and I think that'll be really important in kind of understanding how people are going to react.
It is helpful to me to remind myself that these are second drafts. Typically, a full production is five to ten drafts. A second draft won’t be perfect; that is the point of it. Part of the benefit of this experience is to see what works and what doesn't work - that's actually a positive thing. Knowing what doesn’t work is kind of more helpful than knowing the stuff where people react as you expected because I can take that away and learn. I'd love to carry on writing it and get it to that fifth draft.
Last year, I did an extended scratch night with a different forty-minute piece I'd written. I think what was interesting is that some parts I would think, in my head, were so funny and going to absolutely kill but were received with silence. But there were other bits that I hadn't necessarily thought were that funny and people really liked it. You can never tell. It’s something you can’t measure until you see it.
How does the play relate to Hull?
It’s very much set in Hull and I think there’s quite a bit through that you’ll recognise if you live in Hull. But it’s also fairly universal stuff. If there’s a reference to Big Fun Soft Play, you might not have been there but you know what Soft Play is.
It definitely shapes it. I think it could be somewhere else – it’s not essential. But I think those characters are recognisably people who live here and their lives in the city. They’ve grown up here and now, they’re bringing up their children here.
Where do your ideas for writing come from?
I think places. I think everyone who writes something is partly influenced by things you have experienced as a person. I also read things in the news and think that this could be an interesting idea. Like last year, I wrote a play called ‘1988’. It was about two young women who are growing up who are initially friends and fall in love with each other. It’s about them growing up under Section 28 and how they both navigate that. It initially came from reading about a protest that happened over Section 28 where women came into the House of Lords on washing lines. My story sort of came from people who were inspired by that and living through it.
This is only draft two of the play, what’s next in your writing? Are you going to keep developing ‘1988’ and ‘Can We Be Friends’?
I can’t write different things at the same time but sometimes, I want to. I've had so many times I've wanted to go back to the other play that I was just talking about and finish and refine it. I would really like to finish ‘Can We Be Friends’ and work on it more. I don’t know what’s next but I think there will have to be something because I feel like I can’t stop writing and that’s good. Next, I need to look for where there are more opportunities and look at what there is to apply for.
How do you feel about Middle Child, having worked with them for five years now?
Middle Child are incredible. It’s such a difficult landscape for new writing. Anything that I have done with writing is only because Middle Child are the best in educating people and supporting them. I could not ask for more from them in every step of the way. From offering this opportunity in the first place to being such a nurturing, safe process. I’ve learned so much.
Would you recommend applying for the Middle Child programmes?
Yes, I would absolutely. I’ve said this to so many people: if you even feel like you want to write something, just apply for the introduction to playwriting. You don't have to have written anything; you don't have to have seen loads of plays.
It is an introduction, and you can go in that having never been to a play, having never been in a theatre and I think they would actually really like that.
I think you're right – maybe, this play is opening at least a bit of a conversation. Seeing is quite important, isn't it? I suppose representation gets talked about as buzzword now but it’s just seeing different stories and connecting, understand, feeling heard.
The deadline is approaching. There is just ONE WEEK left to apply for one of seven paid writing commissions to be performed at Fresh Ink: Hull Playwriting Festival 2025. Open to any writer, brand-new, emerging or established, with a meaningful connection to Hull bit.ly/3QH2eUv