We chatted to playwright Tom Wright about how we can make theatre a welcome space for queer artists.
How can we best support and empower young queer artists?
One gift of queer art is that by celebrating the richness of our queer experiences, we empower all audiences to live more freely. To enable this transgressive and imaginative work to be made we must be open and flexible to ‘queer’ ways of creating theatre.
This goes beyond important practical considerations like gender-inclusive spaces, and includes encouraging diversity of thought, or even reimagining the physical form such work might take.
One of the key differences between queer artists and those from other protected backgrounds is that we are very rarely born directly into our community. As we discover who we are as young LGBTQ+ people in a heteronormative world we have to seek out people who share and affirm our experiences
Despite this need for community, there is currently no regularly funded theatre organisation dedicated to connecting and supporting LGBTQ+ theatre artists. In order to empower young queer artists we first need to connect them and create spaces where they can be their authentic selves.
What do you understand by ‘queer space’?
There has been a lot of recent debate as to what a ‘queer space’ is and should be. But most would agree that it’s a physical place created by and for queer people to inhabit uniquely as themselves. The main ambition of any queer space is to build an alternative way of being that’s non- hierarchical and contains a plurality of voices and queer experiences, safe from fear of violence or ridicule.
Why are queer spaces important, and how have they been important in your own work?
In my own work, I have always prioritised collaborating with other LGBTQ+ artists. Through creating a safe space in rehearsals these artists often feel comfortable in sharing personal experiences and having enlightening conversations about things that matter to us. This exchange of ideas then gives the work more depth and clarity.
We have also built a loyal LGBTQ+ audience, working in performance spaces where audiences members can feel free to show up as themselves, as well as respond to the work in ways they see fit, without fear of prejudice. Creating work directly for my community is hugely satisfying and inspires me be a better artist.
Interestingly, when you make work so specifically for your target audience in this way, you soon notice that other audience member are attracted to this specificity. In this instance that means allies also feel empowered and excited to join in and learn about lives different than their own. Even seeing themselves in some of the universal emotions and experiences.
There are some that believe that being ghettoised to a ‘queer space’ will limit the scope of your audiences, just like being called a ‘queer writer’ might limit the scope of your career. But there’s extraordinary diversity in queerness and so many queer stories that haven’t been told. In an industry where audiences are crying out for new stories, this can only be a good thing.
What are your hopes for the future of theatre?
My hope for the future of theatre is that we can free ourselves from restrictive ideas of what theatre can be. How it typically has been made and by whom. I hope that we can collectively realise - just as there are endless possibilities in life - there are in fact ways of sustaining our industry other than the current, failing but prevailing, systems. This is where queer people are uniquely placed to think outside of the box and to inspire others.
First published in the University of Westminster’s Educational Resource Pack.