'Maybe we’ve grown too accustomed to the spinning motion, mistaking it for progress'
In the first act of our queer reimagining of Ibsen’s classic Hedda Gabler, we hear, “It’s funny, how it all keeps spinning.” Each time I hear it, I’m forced to confront the dire state of our creative spaces in London and the vulnerability of the communities that inhabit them.
Developing this adaptation with the incredible Dan Sinclair over the past six months has been a shattering yet thrilling learning curve. It’s pushed me to ask some difficult but necessary questions: do we need to move beyond “safe” spaces to create “brave” theatrical spaces? Do we need to challenge harmful dynamics more actively? And most importantly, do we need to fundamentally reexamine where power—and money—truly lies?
Our creative spaces have grown too comfortable with the illusion of safety. It’s become all too easy to claim inclusivity without actually challenging the power structures and systems that perpetuate harm. A “safe” space often implies comfort, consensus, and a reluctance to provoke. But what if true transformation lies in discomfort? What if a “brave” space, where we navigate the messiness of constructive conflict, contrasting ideas, and power imbalances, is what we actually need? I think we need to become more comfortable with discomfort.
At Springbok Production House, this philosophy underpins everything we do. Our mission is to create work that is bold, unapologetic, and deeply reflective of the communities we serve. With Hedda Gabler, this shift from safe to brave spaces has been at the heart of the process. From day one, we committed to making the rehearsal room a place where ideas could be challenged, where power dynamics could be interrogated, and where nurtured discomfort could lead to growth.
So much of what we ask of our colleagues is rooted in vulnerability. We ask them to dig deep, to expose parts of themselves, to navigate difficult material that resonates deeply with their identities. But how often do we give platform to projects that truly reflect and respect the people bringing them to life?
For Hedda Gabler, every element of the adaptation has been informed by the queer creatives we are serving, representing and challenging. From early workshops to late-night discussions, we’ve worked collaboratively to build a narrative that speaks not just to the queer experience in general, but to the nuanced and specific lived realities of the people on stage.
This approach is integral to my work as Artistic Director of Springbok Production House. This ethos isn’t just about representation—it’s about agency. It’s about navigating issues that arise in the rehearsal room with as much care and intention as we navigate them on stage. A project is only as strong as the foundation we build, and that foundation has to be rooted in a collaboration that champions trust, honesty and empowerment.
Yet, as we strive to create brave spaces and authentically informed projects, we’re doing so in a landscape that’s increasingly hostile to smaller, independent initiatives. Funding for smaller venues and projects is at an all-time low. The disparity in resources between grassroots theatre and commercial giants is staggering, and I worry it’s only getting worse. For queer artists, the stakes are even higher. Queer stories are often deemed too niche, too risky, or—ironically—too challenging to receive the financial backing they deserve.
Meanwhile, the commercial theatre industry perpetuates its own set of issues. Star casting and stunt casting dominate, prioritising marketability over artistic integrity. It’s an environment where ticket sales trump the power of authentic storytelling.
This means that those of us in smaller venues and companies have to fight even harder to keep our work alive. It means that queer stories are more important than ever. And it means that we have to keep asking difficult questions about how we fund and support our industry.
Working on Hedda Gabler with this group of queer creatives has been a testament to the strength of true community. This team understands the importance of connection—finding joy and humour even as we delve into complex truths. That shared bond makes the process feel both grounded and gritty, allowing us to tackle difficult themes with a commitment to open dialogue. It’s a powerful reminder of what’s possible when collaboration is built on curiosity and shared purpose.
At the end of the day, maybe it isn’t funny, how it all keeps spinning. Maybe we’ve grown too accustomed to the spinning motion, mistaking it for progress. But if we don’t challenge the forces that keep us spinning in the same orbit, what happens when it all begins to wobble—or stops altogether? My hope is that our Hedda might disrupt the spin, even just a little. It certainly has for me.
Hedda Gabler runs at the Golden Goose Theatre 21 January - 1 February
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