„Mummy, what are the rules of theater?“ asked my little daughter some days ago, sending me into a dizzying spiral of memories of my theatre career to date. I stuttered some obvious phrases, knowing that she had actually asked the most difficult question a theater maker can be asked: As we all know, there is no bible for theater-making, no guidebook handed to you as soon as you begin your studies. Yet these rules are present and strong, they are repeated, rehearsed and reassured, they are invisible, implicit, and violent. They sit among the bricks in the walls of the institutions, they sit in the rehearsal studios and in the director’s offices, they sit inside our bodies when we move and, on our minds, and tongues, when we speak.
What I could honestly tell her was that the most fun, challenging and enlightening experiences I’ve had in theatre have been the ones where I’ve broken the rules or played with them. My daughter was not satisfied: “Mummy, you have to obey the rules!” she said and turned back to her dolls, continuing her “father, mother, child” game.