Forgotten Files

Ten years ago, I finished stage managing a performance for the Edinburgh Festival before embarking on travels to Khartoum, Sudan.It was on the banks of the Nile, in the town of Omdurman, where I stumbled across the Sudanese National Theatre. To my delight, the universal nature of theatre makers allowed me to easily identify the Director, Writer, Actor and Production Manager. They generously sat down with me to tell me about their theatre company; and their adaption to the contemporary challenges and social themes of their work. They no longer relied on the mortar and brick of a theatre building in which to perform their work. Now, they take their shows to where the audience is; packing up sets, costumes, audio and lighting equipment in the back of the truck in order to create temporary theatre spaces in the streets after dark.The plight of theatre in Sudan follows one not entirely dissimilar to the challenges faced by performing artists here in Australia. Reduced government funding (in the case of Sudan, they rely solely on theatre rent for income), competition with technology (in Sudan it is the introduction of TV), and the cost of attendance, resonate a little with our own.The podcast is rather fluid in its edit, and is perhaps a little more difficult to follow than usual podcasts due to an attempt to keep it bilingual. Although it contains interviews with Company members, it also incorporates the cacophony of city life during Ramadan, the songs of the women and children who became my family during my stay, the rhythms of drummers on the streets enjoying the coolness of the evening, and for a very special treat, the song titled Hamara by the great Omar Ihsas, one of Darfur's most renowned singers, who came to visit for an afternoon cup of shay.The podcast launches with the sound of my calls during the final performance of our dance production Mortal Engine at the Edinburgh Festival before transporting the listener to the streets of Khartoum, and to a performance by the Sudanese Theatre Company.