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In conversation with Frances Poet
Literary Manager
National Theatre of Scotland
How did you get into working in theatre?
I’ve always loved going to the theatre but I started getting really excited about making
theatre when I was a student. St Andrews University, where I studied, didn’t have a
drama department which meant that people from all sorts of disciplines with no theatre
training would spend their free time putting on plays. I really immersed myself in it.
When I left university I knew I wanted to do something with text because that’s what I
had really enjoyed about my English degree. I met with Christopher Penfold, the script
editor on the TV series Midsomer Murders, and I asked him for some advice. He was
very helpful and told me about being a theatre script reader; I didn’t know such a role
existed. I immediately contacted a number of theatres who had literary departments and
asked them how I could get involved as a script reader. They said that I would need to
send them some sample script reports, so I dutifully went into the National Theatre on the
South Bank, bought a couple of scripts and wrote some sample reports and got lots of
letters back saying ‘thank you we’ll put you on file’.
Then I did some voluntary script reading for a pub theatre in London called the Tabard
Theatre and started doing some reading for Theatre Royal Stratford East. From there, I
was accepted onto the script reading panels at the National Theatre and the Bush, and
later at the Soho Theatre. I eventually became Literary Assistant at the Bush which was
the first time I’d been immersed in a literary department in that way, writing to a lot of
writers, conveying feedback from the reading team. From there I joined Hampstead
Theatre as Associate Director (Literary) where I was for four years before starting at the
National Theatre of Scotland in 2008.
What was it you liked about the idea of being a script reader or editor?
I’ve always been good at close reading and textual analysis, so I was excited about
working within a world that I loved, which is theatre, but in a role that would allow me to
use those skills.
When I graduated, I didn’t know literary management existed. The only thing I could think of
that would fit my ideas of what I wanted to do was script editing for film and TV – which
is why I contacted Chris Penfold. When I spoke to him, I discovered that reading scripts
for theatre is a tried and tested route to becoming a script editor in television, but from the
moment I discovered the role in theatre, I knew it was exactly where I wanted to be.
What does a script reader do?
There are a number of theatres across Britain who accept unsolicited scripts and script
readers are the first port of call. A theatre might employ up to ten script readers. They
read all the work, write reports – essentially, a synopsis and commentary – and they make
recommendations for the artistic team at the theatre. It’s the script readers who suggest
whether a play warrants further attention, or if it doesn’t, they try to give the writer some
constructive feedback.
Do you receive unsolicited scripts at the National Theatre of Scotland?
We do. We have recently begun to accept unsolicited scripts from Scottish writers or
writers based in Scotland. So we now have contact with a wider range of writers. It’s
another access point for artists to connect with the National Theatre of Scotland.
What’s the purpose of this new policy to read unsolicited scripts?
We read people’s work in order to begin a dialogue with a writer. I’ll read the play and
give as much feedback as I can that will be useful. If I’m excited by the play then I’ll
meet the writer and talk to them about future ideas. We might be in a position to
commission them then, or we might want to see more of their work and commission them
further down the line. It’s exciting to think that you might be able to read a play and put it
on straight away but mostly you’re looking to build a relationship with a writer.
It’s very rare when a play lands on your desk and gets picked up and produced, but it
does happen. In early 2008, we did a week’s development initiative with writers, which
we informally called a “writers’ jamboree”. The participants were selected because we
were excited and interested in the writers themselves, not in specific pieces of work.
For the jamboree we asked each writer to select an already existing piece that they
wanted to work on for a day with three directors, Vicky Featherstone, John Tiffany and
Dominic Hill. We merely wanted to connect with those emerging writers but the week
exceeded all our expectations when we found four plays we wanted to put on in our
Debuts season at the Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh.
How does commissioning work?
There are two ways that we tend to commission. One is when a writer we really want to
work with has an idea that’s really exciting. We meet them and find out that they have a
subject that they’re burning to write about that resonates for us so we can say “Yes, that’s
exactly what we want to do”. This way, we’re reacting to the ideas and enthusiasms of
the artists that we want to work with as a company. Then we support them through the
process and find the most effective way to bring the piece to an audience.
The other way is that we, the artistic team, have an idea that excites us and that we think
we should be exploring in some way. So we hand-pick a writer who we know will be
perfect for that idea, then we give them a researchassignment and they go away and see if
there’s a play in it. Assignments are a really exciting way of working and I don’t know of
another company that works in this way. It’s how Black Watch came about, for example.
How many scripts would you expect to receive in an average week?
Well, it’s early days. When I was at Hampstead we were receiving twelve-hundred a
year. We won’t receive that many because we are focussing our resources towards
Scottish writers and writers based in Scotland but I hope that budding playwrights who
are connecting with our work as audiences will be motivated to send in their play now the
facility is there.
You can tell if you have a show that really speaks to people: suddenly you can see an
increase in the number of scripts you receive. You can almost hear people saying, “I’m
excited by this, this is the kind of thing I want to write.”
How hands-on do you get with the scripts you receive?
I think there are different stages. It’s really important as an initial response to give an
overview. If you can’t take the play forward for development, it’s not constructive to get
hung up on the small details. Yes, there may be a little bit of repetition in the second act,
but that’s not why we’re not going forward with the play. More likely than not, it’s
because the material doesn’t feel distinctive, and doesn’t feel resonant or urgent enough,
so when we respond to the writer it’s important for us to be as honest as we can be.
How do you develop a piece if you do decide to take a play forward?
You start with the big picture, and the really fine tuning comes much later on. Some of
that fine tuning may happen in a daylong development workshop when you already have
a production date.
Also, although it varies from director to director, you can do some amazing fine tuning in
the first five to ten days of rehearsals. You can go through the script with a fine
toothcomb when you have actors telling you they don’t understand or believe a particular
line they have to speak. The writer is present and able to say, “You’re right, I’ve never
been sure about that line, let’s change it.” So that level of rigour comes quite late. I think
it’s really important not to overwhelm writers too soon; there are some changes that can
only be made at a certain stage.
Are you present in rehearsals?
It depends really, and varies from process to process. If there is a project where I have a
particularly strong relationship with the writer and the director, I might be in the rehearsal
room for the first five days as a dramaturg. I might have seen the play from an early stage
and witnessed its development so if there is pressure to change something, you can
defend the writer’s intention and be alert to the knock-on consequences of a particular
change.
What are some of the hallmarks of a top script, in your opinion?
Something that’s distinctive, something that surprises you, first and foremost. When you
read a lot of plays, the same kinds of themes tend to appear. You won’t be surprised to
know that after 9/11, there was a lot of work coming through about suicide bombers, and
while the first play about that to land on your desk might have made you sit up, twenty or
so plays down the line . . . you’re no longer excited by that material.
But talented writers can tackle any material and make it feel fresh and resonant – that’s
what gives you the tingles on your spine. That really is the first thing, to be able to say
‘this is so fresh – I’ve not seen anything like this.’ I think that’s what gives the writing an
urgent quality: the need to show something quickly because it feels so new, whether its
subject is topical or not.
Actually, I think to be a good script reader, personal taste shouldn’t have a bearing on
your search for quality. When that distinctive quality in a writer comes through, it’s
actually very easy to override your own personal taste. Whether it’s a play that is written
by someone who has a very cold world view, or whether the characters are very
grotesque or whether it wears its heart on its sleeve – on the whole you’re not looking for
any of those things, you’re looking for something that feels fresh.
When you read a script are you able to visualise it being performed?
Well, sometimes you know you’re reading a good script when you get so wrapped up in
it that rather than imagining two actors on stage speaking those lines, you feel like you’re
actually in the room with those two people talking. Obviously if you entirely disengaged
that visual part of your brain when you were reading, you’d be doing a disservice to a
playwright writing specifically for the theatre. It can become apparent very quickly if the
stagecraft is not good though and it gets in the way of your investment in the characters
and the story. When you’re reading really well crafted writing, you can’t help but be in
the world of the play.
What has been your experience of relocating to Glasgow from London?
I’m not sure I had quite prepared myself for how different the theatrical landscape of
each place would be.
One of the biggest differences is the audience. Douglas Maxwell describes the experience
of a play that he had on in Dundee and in London and how in the opening speech, which
was direct audience address, in Dundee everyone leaned in but in London everyone
leaned back. And I feel I’m noticing that difference with the way that audiences engage
with the work.
I love going to Òran Mòr and being amongst an audience of around 120 people a day
who have chosen to spend their lunchtime seeing new work. While some of the work I
was seeing in London could be aloof and alienating, it feels much more like theatre
makers in Scotland are reaching out to their audiences and pulling them in.
Interview by Colin Clark