Next week will see the debut of Here She Comes, the second show in our Season of Violent Women. Ahead of the opening night on Monday, Wendy Haines caught up with the show’s writer, director, and performer SJ Brady…

 

SJ Brady is long-time friend, colleague and collaborator; a whirlwind of creativity, humour and heart who inspires every person fortunate enough to pass her storm. As a talented writer, director and performer, she is a pleasure for any other director or writer to work with. In 2015, I decided to write a monologue for By Jove Theatre’s production Before They Told You What You Are (a version of The Bacchae) that was made specifically for her. SJ’s style, ferocity and determination seemed to blend perfectly with Agave, the woman entrapped by Dionysus in the woods.

 

Agave has too long been a forgotten character in Euripides’ The Bacchae, but her enrapturing story of oppression, intoxication, freedom, and betrayal took hold of SJ and I in a way that spurred us both to give her a voice. In response to the monologue, SJ sent me an initial draft of a poem she was writing, which has now evolved into the epic Here She Comes (taking place 15-21 May at The Gallery on The Corner). The tale of a woman of Thebes abandoning her privileged but frustrating life for the wild and dangerous worship of Dionysus is as conflicting as it is enthralling – and if you don’t already know it, I won’t spoil the ending for you.

 

Before she begins her stint at The Gallery on The Corner next week, I thought I would ask SJ a few questions about her epic piece and how it came about.

 

  1. What drew you towards writing for this character, Agave?

 

I played Agave in By Jove’s version of The Bacchae, and was really drawn to the idea of a woman leaving everything behind – leaving her home, and why she would do that.  In the Greek text you don’t really meet her until the end of the play, she’s there to be punished – and she’s played by a man. I thought the focus was really on the wrong people … and ultimately I wanted to give her a voice.  It’s not there for you to agree with her actions, it’s there so you can understand the situation.

 

 

  1. Do you think her experience is spiritual and how would you relate to that?

 

I think her experience is spiritual in the sense that she taps into her own spirituality, when she’s left with nothing (abusive son, dead husband) she looks elsewhere for validation and through that becomes much more in tune with who she is. She needs to find her identity ‘post-family’ and that’s where her journey begins. She feels invisible within the eyes of society, within the walls of her home. In this version she listens to her body and explores her limitations to increase and maintain the feeling of freedom she’s never felt before, at least not on this level. I think it’s easy for people to lose touch with themselves as they become so busy with their lives, and can often lose a sense of who they are. As you grow older, it’s important for you to be reminded that you’re a whole person, not just a moving cog in the vast wheel (she laughs) – not ‘just a mother’ in Agave’s case – that’s how I can relate. Finding your identity ‘post relationship’, job, etc..

 

 

  1. Why have you chosen poetry as the form for this piece?

 

This piece started out as a response to another text, so was originally just going to be a short poem. Once I had written the section for the pinnacle moment when she leaves her home, it seemed to be yearning for the rest of the story – so it just snowballed from there really. Even I wanted to know where she was going (she laughs). Ultimately I wanted to write something for her that was poetic and poignant to give her that moment, and spoken word just happened to come much more naturally to me and to the text.

 

 

  1. Is there a catharsis in this piece? If so, what are we meant to learn from it?

 

You can decide that for yourself.

 

 

  1. How did you go about the writing process?

 

I wrote in sections – starting with my main focus which was as I have mentioned Agave deciding to leave her home. I knew I didn’t want much of the men, or Dionysus really – but I knew I had to get across how Agave related to the other people in her life, and how Dionysus made her feel. I split it into three sections, with a prologue/epilogue either side, and the arc of the story becomes clear between Birth, Dirt & Bone. As it is all a poem, it’s form and sound are so important, so I always record myself and listen to that section on repeat, during my commute, or doing menial tasks, so I’m always editing, even up to the last minute. It’s vital that you leave enough time for editing after the initial storm of writing – it can’t be underestimated. Then in the rehearsal room your delivery often changes as you respond to the tempo/mood that a musician is creating. In anything collaborative you have to make room for compromise and different interpretations of your work, which is hard to let go of sometimes but if you do then it can grow into something much bigger and with more depth than what’s been in your head for two years… most of the time (she laughs).

 

 

  1. What’s different about working in a non-theatre space for you?

 

Preparing a piece for an audience to be immersed in is very different than using a stage, but it’s almost easier – especially for this. With a gallery you have a blank space. You can make it a very visual, very textural place to be. I’ve tried to enhance other senses in this space too, so after ten minutes you genuinely forget there’s an outside and you feel like you’re with Agave in her space – in the forest. It’s important to lure an audience in, make them forget where they are. It’s good story telling, and ultimately that’s what it is. Live literature for the senses! It allows us to grow as a company too, put our mark on a space and enhance our identity as a theatre company.

 

Here She Comes is on at The Gallery on the Corner in Tooting from 15-21 May. There are only twenty tickets available per performance, so booking in advance is strongly advised. Tickets are available here.