During our time in Broneirion House we explored the nooks and cannies of our new home. We created pieces that responded to our environment and were influenced by the history of the house and the people that lived in it. 

We then created one huge collaborative piece in which people chose different rooms or spaces in or out of the house and created pieces inspired by those rooms and had one performance flow into the other. We performed 'Room Responses' on a Wednesday evening and I believe it was over 4 hours long. Some pieces were short other were longer and we were able to learn even more about the house and our relationship to it.

The Landing was created by Sandra Bendelow, Ellen Groves, Nia Morris, Claire Prosser, Carolina Vasquez, Matt Wright and Jorge Lizalde. The idea grew from Sandra's interest in the changing room, which was actually the room Ellen was living in. The video pieces below were projection mapped onto the two rooms in the pic above. The poetry formed part of the soundscape and was also inspiration for the spot we chose to perform in.

Happy ending at the beginning,

If you have space you have to use it,

But not to forget

Boundaries dancing

Open hearted arms, mind,

Inviting vulnerability

Fragile, fragile, fragile,

Listen, look, stop, wait,

No entry.

Silence clasped

A prelude to an epic stillness,

A window into a heart on a sleeve

Fragile space with unwelcome eyes,

Interrupt, interrupt, interrupt,

Why would you do that?

It hurt – right here!

Pretending we are home.

Untouched naked air,

Clenching the vulnerability,

To find a welcome exit, to search,  

For the heart of the house,

A character saying the quinoa was a little over dressed,

To find the hearts, minds, eyes and legs,

A door to reveal transparent layers of a broken heart,


To forget and accept misunderstanding,

Hidden treasures within us,

To reject the exit, to find a new opportunity

In a bright secret hidden in curtains and a toilet seat.


Dye, blood, tears, shame, hope, dreams, faith, fear

Staining the sheets, the floor, the walls

The house is heavy with it.

Some rooms more than others,

Do I want to step into it?

Have I left my mark on the house?

Will the house remember me?

Or will I blend with a thousand other footsteps,

Silently walking the stairs,

Eyes staring through windows,

Hands tracing the walls,

I will take something away,

Words of mine, words of others,

Words formed into scenes,

Sentences into text,

Dialogue into characters,

And sun rising on new friendships,

Formed through sharing fears and laughter,

But did I give you anything?

To embed in your walls.

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