And so to Madison, four hours on a Greyhound bus. The city recently lost its Rep, apparently owing to the economic downturn, so things are feeling a little chilly on the shores of the great lakes. Rattle on about what’s happening for us in Wales when I’m asked (and I am asked, frequently – people seem to be truly interested, even though I usually have to explain that no, Wales isn’t in England, nor is it near London). Realise how extraordinary the potential of NTW is, plus how vibrant the current Welsh scene seems, and try not to feel guilty (I was reared an Irish roman catholic and so can mea culpa to an international standard). I’ve spoken to quite a few playwrights who have had productions cancelled in the past two months, and directors with whole seasons pared back. The atmosphere is still upbeat, but there’s a shine of desperation glinting in some eyes.... Madison Rep were big supporters of new writing – they developed my script ‘The Almond and the Seahorse’ at its new play festival a few years back - and tried to nurture new work wherever possible. And so another venue and ally bites the dust and a recently built multi-million dollar theatre lies empty, waiting to be turned into a shopping mall....
I get into the consumer spirit and go to Goodwill thrift store, to buy a costume for Beckett’s ‘Act Without Words,1’. Find a $9.99 suit, have to pass on the pink snakeskin cowgirl boots, but get the cane handled ‘purse’ made from a Cuban cigar box. Wonder if the cashier is an actor and the shelf-stacker a dramaturg. Heard the worst-ever definitions of a ‘dramaturg’ in Chicago: a “dramatic engineer” and “a playwright whisperer.” I just about managed not to deck him.