​Wassail doesn’t have any staff and never has so that’s not an asset.  Everyone was freelance.  And the freelancers were really volunteers because while they were mostly paid, they always gave at least double the amount of time they were contracted to give for free without moaning.  That’s the real reason audiences liked Wassail’s shows.  Because the people involved in making them gave every ounce of their spirit to create and tell the stories that needed to be told.  Truly, Wassail was shaped by the people who worked so closely with the company, grappling with the challenge of how a small, upstart company could try to build reputation, relationships and resources to become sustainable. Truly those people battled with the impossible right up to the end.

 

It’s not impossible to run a theatre company and earn some sort of living from it.  In Somerset the real success story has to be Tor Theatre.  Forget the Somerset-based national touring NPO’s Emma Rice Company (formerly Wise Children) or Little Bulb. They don’t have an imprint on Somerset’s theatre ecology.  Tor Theatre have been doing it in Somerset for 20 years, never having had a grant from Arts Council or anyone to make & tour their work locally. They’re jobbing actors and have to take non-arts work to keep their house in order but their tireless commitment to making brilliant theatre available on an absolute shoestring has to be applauded. And they keep going.

 

Sorry, back to Wassai’s assets.  What about all the cash?! That’s an asset, surely.  Well yes but what’s left of it has been gifted to Taunton Theatre Association, who operate Taunton Brewhouse.  Wassail and The Brewhouse teamed up on several occasions most notably as co-producers of Whispering Willows and nearly co-producers of the show we never made, Lorna Doone.  Our trustees believe wholeheartedly that the pennies remaining should find their way to an organisation that will put the money where their mouth is.

 

If there’s hope for the future of theatre in Somerset, it must be focussed through the slow evolution that is taking place on the banks of the River Tone.  Taunton Brewhouse is not an easy venue to run, and it’s a tough town to crack, but finally there’s the right team in the artistic hotseat.  Give them time, encouragement and every penny you have and there will be a new theatre revolution emerging from there.  We hope.

 

Aha… the cool technical stuff… a fancy PA, two old lighting desks, a load of torches and a battered old smoke machine.  Proper theatre assets.  Nah, sorry, they went to the independent theatre-making community in Somerset.  Emma’s having the massive tarpaulin and Jackie’s taking all the costumes that we had left.  Project Dance took the sound & lighting stuff.

 

So what other assets does a theatre company have to give away when it closes?

 

I guess there’s the memories. The intangible gifts that when you make a show in the first place, you hope will stay for a lifetime.  

 

As I start to try to process the memories, so many memories, my brain gets into a funk. Just too many memories.  Jack Kelly eating his beard; Amy Batty running between performance spots around Ninesprings; James’ tuba; George’s sweat; Richard’s apples; Dylan’s tears; David’s eyes twinkling; Angela’s purple cardigan; Alys’ high-vis; Jesse’s optimism; Joanna’s laugh; Rose’s yellow jumper; Leela’s wedding dress; Harrison painted like a dog; Luna backflipping down Burrow Hill; Katy getting drenched; Helena risking a diabetic hypo with every pavlova; so many more that only really mean something to me. Your own memories - your own assets - will be so different to mine and if you tried to tell them to me I wouldn’t really understand them.

 

Time stops for us all.  In my magnum opus Apples & Angels, the character of Will, portrayed by my nephew Fergus when he was 12, sums it up really:

 

Will: What has passed has passed. What happens next is up for grabs.  What sacrifices will we take to make the right choice?  We’ve just gotta keep moving.

 

The characters that existed during Wassail’s story journey are moments of life and breath from the past, and tomorrow’s a new journey. New stories to tell, new places to do it, and maybe there’s other ways of telling them.  

 

Our assets are our audiences too. Those that shared the experiences of our characters. The audiences that sat or stood or walked hand-in-hand face-to-face with the actors who animated the county so colourfully. For a moment, Somerset’s theatre scene became more trendy than Bristol or London or even Dorset.

 

So would anyone like Wassail’s audiences?

 

Don’t all shout at once.  

 

They’re yours now.  But take care of them. They’re people. They’re the residents of Somerset. And take a moment to be absolutely clear here. They’re the residents of Real Somerset.  All Somerset.  Whole Somerset.  Big Somerset. The Somerset that includes Chilcompton and Banwell, Portishead and Midsomer Norton.  Stop pretending the unitary authority divisions keep the county apart.  They simply don’t.  Our communities are united by the same sky.

 

So take care of our assets.  Give them something to look forward to.  Give them something to live and learn and laugh by.  Wassail relinquishes responsibility and gifts it to you.  To all of you.  The independent live performance makers.  The amateur companies.  The jazz hands groups.  Stagecoach and Pauline Quirk and Razmatazz and all those groups.  Street Theatre Company. Taunton Thespians.  YAOS. Take Art.  The Octagon & Westlands.  Tor Theatre.  Taunton Brewhouse.  Bridgwater Arts Centre.  The David Hall Arts Centre.  Emma Rice Company (formerly Wise Children).  Aka Dance.  Little Bulb. Make the Sunshine.  Superculture.  East Quay Watchet.  Fuse Performance.  Strode Theatre.  The Blakehay Theatre.  Pirates of the Carabina.  Somerset Opera.  Pleasure Dome Theatre Company.  Somerset Youth Theatre. Midsomer Norton Drama Club.  Theatre Royal Bath.  Bath Spa University.  Valley Arts. The Bluebirds.  Tall Tails Theatre Company. The Lost Lady Society. Wells Theatre Festival.  And yes, even Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts.  Everyone.

 

All of you and the rest and the rest and the rest must safeguard Somerset’s theatre audiences. You can do that by fighting for more investment in Somerset through whichever bodies carry the dwindling funds for art in England.  Don’t be afraid to challenge the organisations that attract the most public and private investment to enable more local artists to create work that resonates with local audiences.  I mean real investment - not tiny grants - but actual financial muscle or a willingness to take a risk. Don’t be afraid of being ambitious.  At a time when the National Theatre is making redundancies, when NPO’s calling it a day due to financial pressure are ten a penny and when the very foundation of our sector is under threat with the major review of Arts Council England and when Grantium doesn’t even work, it’s not an easy task.  But we believe in you.

 

Wassail started because Somerset County Council scrapped all of its arts funding, at a time when The Brewhouse was in its darkest place.  One of Take Art’s more effective interventions was to call a group of like-minded theatre makers together to talk about what to do. Wassail emerged.  And now Wassail’s done. The local ecology isn’t in as bad a place as it was in 2012 but there’s certainly space for some new energy to kick things off in Somerset.  

 

The secret we discovered was to conceive, develop and deliver performance work within the gaps.  Shows in the unlikely places: the village halls, the pubs, the football clubs, butcher shops, libraries, bus shelters, rivers, high streets, walled gardens, private gardens, town centre gardens.  It’s no surprise that audiences were less fussed seeing our work in theatres because our audiences neither expected nor wanted to go to the theatre in a theatre. Let’s face it, who does!? They wanted to climb a hill in a cider farm, or get up close with horses to experience their stories. The sticky floor of a pub or the smell of silage hanging in the air.  That was Wassail’s scenery.

 

So over to you.  Take the torch and hold it high.  But remember to remember your families and friends as you do.  Remember the people who keep you going.  Remember why you’re doing it.

 

Roll up, roll up.  Going once, going twice….