In the past, when directing plays, I have kept a journal. Or rather, attempted to keep a journal, as after a few rehearsals this often descends into a list of incomprehensible, hastily-scribbled bullet points that are useful only to myself at the time. Looking back on notes from a few months ago, I see ‘journal entries’ that just say ‘mug, books, sponge’, or ‘Dora move to WB’ (which sounds more like the note of a football manager than a theatre director). This time, however, I intend on keeping an open journal – through this series of blog entries, I will take you through the process of theatre creation from the first pitch to the final get-out and everything that happens in between.

 The play I’m directing this term is called ‘My Name is Rachel Corrie’. It is a verbatim, one-person play that follows the life, and tragic death, of the American aid worker Rachel Corrie who was run down by an Israeli bulldozer in Palestine after refusing to let it knock down a Palestinian house. All of the text is taken from Rachel Corrie’s writings (her journals, emails, letters etc.) and is performed by one person to build up a picture of who she was, and why she left her comfortable first-world life to stand between a bulldozer and a house.

 I first came across the play in Waterstones, which is as good a place as any to find source material. Occasionally, when I’m in a city with an hour or two to spare, I’ll find the nearest Waterstones and sit down to read a play. I can’t remember the last time I actually bought anything from Waterstones, but I’ve read many of their books over the past few years. On one particular occasion I stumbled across ‘My Name is Rachel Corrie’, and after reading the first few pages I was immediately engrossed; I read the play cover to cover without interruption in about an hour. The play had an instant impact on me: there was something so honest and pure about reading her actual words, it felt grounded and real, not your generic, cheesy bioplay. At one level, Rachel Corrie is admirable and inspirational, but then at another, she is completely human and completely relatable. Through her words, you can see into her mind and understand everything.

 Determined to bring the play to Cambridge, the next stages of putting it together were less ‘moment of inspiration’ and more admin. It seemed a given that the play should be performed at the Corpus Playroom – I’d directed my last two plays there (‘No Way Out’ and ‘Les Justes’) so I knew the space well, and I knew that it was the perfect setting for an intimate play like ‘My Name is Rachel Corrie’.  Due to the length of the play, the late show slot seemed the most appropriate, and with this in mind, I filled out an application form on the ADC website: I pitched the play and got the slot!

Perhaps the most important, and hardest, part of putting together a play is auditioning people. I set aside five audition dates for this, just to make sure I’d squeezed every potential Rachel Corrie out of Cambridge. Sometimes with auditions, the problem is having too few actors and trying to shoehorn them into roles. In this case however, I had so many good actresses audition, that it was incredibly hard to cut them all down to just one. In the end, it wasn’t a case of who the best actress was, as almost all of them were fantastic, but who was Rachel Corrie. Looking back to what I felt when I first read the play, I knew I needed someone who was ‘completely human and completely relatable’. Following this, I opted to give the role to Ella Duffy. What struck me about her audition was that on stage she was really human, really relatable and seemed like someone anyone could get along with, but at the same time, she had a strong stage presence, and commanded the space. This was the balance that was needed. Other actresses gave passionate and well-acted performances, but it was the honesty and subtle power in Ella’s audition that won her the role. Yep, that sounded pretentious and over-the-top, but that’s theatre.

My backstage crew virtually hired themselves – I’d worked with my two amazing producers, my heroic technical director and my inspired set-designer on my last two plays, and I’d worked with my publicity designer on other productions. Over the past year we’ve gelled well as a unit, and have a good understanding of what each other want. I didn’t want to change a winning formula!

I’m currently working hard on pre-rehearsal script analysis, so I don’t look like an idiot when I walk into the rehearsal room. I’ve got so many ideas floating around in my head, and I’m trying to ground them before rehearsals start. Hopefully next week I will have some idea of what I’m doing.