stew in bread bowl, what else?! 🙂

                                                    So, as many of my friends are painfully aware I went to Bucharest two weeks ago. Ostensibly for research for I’m Not Jesus Christ it was also an excuse to recharge the batteries and meet the play’s brilliant writer for the first time. The latter being the most important.

I’ve been wanting to direct I’m Not Jesus Christ for about three and a half years during which time I’ve been in contact with the writer Maria Manolescu via email. However, as she lives in Bucharest (the play was originally developed as part of an international residency at the Royal Court Theatre) we only met in person for the first time two weeks ago. This seems bizarre to most people and I have to admit I approached the trip with some trepidation but after some initial pleasantries we were soon chatting like old friends. This was thanks in part to 1) her gorgeous two year old boy 2) some excellent Romanian wine. The first night I was delighted to discover that Maria was having some duologues she’d written staged and though I understood very little of what’s going on (I don’t speak Romanian) it was nice to feel at home in a theatre in a foreign country.  

selfie with playwright Maria

It made me think a lot about the difference between being a guest and being a host, how wonderful it feels to be welcomed as a stranger and how important it is to do the same for others. This isn’t an attempt to make some sort of larger political point (I’ll save that for another blog) it’s more an effort to realise how in our busy lives it’s important to make time for the simple pleasures of eating food that’s strange to our palate, making conversations with strangers and more generally, letting ourselves feel out of our comfort zones. As someone who considers themselves self-sufficient I hate feeling like I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going or struggling to communicate with people. But, I have to resign myself to the fact that if I’m going to have any adventures, any fun, or make theatre of any merit, I have to learn to live with the discomfort. Hopefully, I can keep a sense of humour while I do so.

Vatican, eat your heart out.