Assistant Director of (We indulge in) a bit of roll play, Emma Lynne Harley reflects on her time working with BOP Theatre as a recipient of the FST Bursary Scheme.

My first interaction with BOP (other than watching their shows) was reaching out to them for access consultancy on my show Walking On Eggshells, which was in R&D at the time. And in getting to know the company and Artistic Director Robert Softley Gale more, I was very keen to work with them again. Together – almost two years ago – we applied for the Federation of Scottish Theatre’s bursary for me to work on (We Indulge In) A Bit Of Roll Play. At the time it had another, ruder, less social media marketing friendly name, and it was our second time applying for me to work on this project as assistant director – the previous being for an earlier R&D.

The show came about, I was told, to communicate “yes, we are disabled, and yes, we fuck”. The earlier R&D had focused on different mediums of performance art, and now, BOP was turning it into a play which would eventually physically transform into an accessible sex-club paradise featuring a fantastic disabled cast from different performance backgrounds. As a director and theatre-maker who straddles worlds of theatre and cabaret, I was sold on the idea very early on.

One major goal I had for this time was to be fully embedded in the process of production from as early a stage possible to see how BOP integrate access throughout every stage of show development. Months before physical rehearsals began, I joined the writers’ room in a dramaturgical capacity, where the story began to be hammered out between co-writers Gabby, Hannah and Rob.

The core character of the play was Ben, a young disabled man who is a content creator on OnlyFans. He lives with his non-disabled parents, Maggie and Dave, who have some kind of caregiving role, and has a will-they-wont-they (even if they already have) friend Amy. Because the role of Ben had not yet been cast, there was an understanding that at a writing level, certain aspects of scenes and content may change. Disability is diverse, and Ben’s needs as originally drafted may well differ from the actor playing him; the writing team wanted to show the realities of both disabled sex, and day-to-day life for Ben as a disabled man, whilst keeping the writing open and flexible enough so as not to prescribe Ben’s specific type of disability, or necessitate “cripping up”. Strangely enough, the last character to be added to the script was CripGod, who would be played by a disabled actor – and was written without any other traits in mind other than they would be a solid presence for the audience, and also for Ben who, as a 19-year-old, is looking for guidance from someone who knows what it’s like to be sexy, sexual, and disabled all at once. CripGod then was tailored to suit Rosie Jones once she was cast, and working with stand-up comedy all tied into setting up the form-breaking convention we were setting up for in the end.

Before coming into the room, everyone had the opportunity to submit an access rider or statement to anticipate the needs of the team, including preferred communication styles. Eventually there was the rehearsal process itself, beginning with a full-team briefing as to how BOP make theatre. Intimacy co-ordination, writing tweaks and adjustments, character work, and building a respectful work environment allowing people to do their best work was all encompassed. PA’s did excellent work making sure the team was supported, and accessible accommodation and things like taxis were
available to account for Glasgow’s less than perfect transport system. Jamie and Yvonne as BSL performers were dramaturgically integrated into the world throughout rehearsals as ethereal beings just like CripGod, with non-performing BSL interpreters who translated working conversations and helped operate a prompt screen to account for hands being used to communicate while still using a script. BSL phrases and language were discussed to ensure the most faithful translation of meaning and double entendre. In parallel, the ensemble cast of epilogue performers delved into true acsexibility with a real focus on aftercare. This could be seen in what they delivered on stage as well as how the ensemble was guided and led by the associate artist Anne Kjær.

On the production side of things, conversations were ongoing about access from the beginning, all the way through: Set design should be accessible for performers who require ramps, stairs, handrails, and to accommodate the artistic vision for a space that will eventually transform into a sex club. Set also tied in to what surfaces could be possibly used to project captions on, and how this would interact with the overall picture. Lighting was designed in conversation with all of this, as well as making sure photosensitive audience members were included. Video design conversations interacted wholeheartedly with the comical scene where Ben’s parents use his laptop to misguidedly flirt with CripGod to disastrous results, with three LED screens captioning, and emphasising the hilarity. Without Tim Reid’s creative captioning and Chris Gorman’s accompanying sound design, the audience might never have known how funny watching a tech illiterate mum type out “white heart emoji” is. The same feature would also alert audiences in advance of the dramatic club transition, with time to collect ear defenders available. At key points, creative consultants using both audio description and BSL were invited to watch and feedback about ways to make the show better and more accessible, which could be addressed for audiences. And along with everything else they had a handle on, stage manager Catherine Idle did a fabulous job of being strict on enforcing breaks when it may otherwise be tempting to have work conversations on the sly during lunch in tech week.

Working on this show was a huge learning curve, as it was incredibly multi-layered, at a bigger physical scale, and with the largest team and ambition I’ve yet had the privilege to contribute to. It was admittedly challenging at points, but the show was left all the richer for it. Any initial headache caused by wrapping my head round balancing all of these elements has resulted in my creative brain doubling in size. To quote Robert the director:

“Emma did not simply assist on this production. She shaped it. Her dramaturgical input, her presence in the room, and her steady management of the human dynamics of a large company left a real mark on what the work became.”

I’ll take that. And I’m hugely grateful for the opportunity to have been one vital part of creating something so vibrant.

As a theatre-maker I often design and manage projects that I source funding for, both as an independent artist and as Artistic Director of Siren Theatre Company. Meaningful access provisions both for the team, and for audiences that are embedded early on ensures that resources are available which are not only practical, but will artistically enrich the work. The more shows that are built in this way, the more visible frameworks are to inform and inspire those who are just beginning their journey with integrating access into theatre. Creatively, thinking of access as an artistic palette opens up so much possibility for the way we tell stories on stage with detail, nuance and flare.

My show Walking On Eggshells premiers this May (14th-22nd) and will feature captioning and be relaxed at every performance. And this just feels like scratching the surface of ways I’m planning to build in access in the work I create in the future.