From The Bench to Bones in the Desert: A Journey Through Stories, History and Inherited Trauma…

Hello again! It’s been a little while since I’ve had the time to sit down and write a blog for my website – freelance life and travels does mean that time passes by without having that focussed time to pen a few thoughts….. but I’m really pleased to be back with one that brings together a number of things that have been important to me over the past few years. And, of course, there’s a production I’m rather excited about that I’d love you to come and see!

From 12–17 November, Bones in the Desert will be at Half Moon in London before heading out on a national tour until 2 December. I’m directing and designing this new, 60-minute immersive piece, written by British-Armenian playwright Joe Nerssessian. It’s his first professional and published commission, which makes it a particularly special project to be part of.

But the story of how we got here began back in 2021, with a much smaller piece of work called The Bench. When I was Director of Half Moon, I had the privilege of curating a programme called Exchange for Change, which was established in 2004 to support the development of new professional theatre for young people and families. At its heart was a commitment to co-creation: bringing artists together with young people and communities to explore ideas, test out stories and develop work that might not otherwise find its way onto a stage.

Within this, Narratives of Empathy and Resilience was a specific, three-month programme bringing together 18 artists from different creative disciplines and at different stages of their careers. Most had never made theatre for young audiences before, but they were keen to try something new. The result was nine scratch performances for different age groups, each emerging from a process of collaboration, curiosity and shared exploration.

Joe was one of those artists. A British-Armenian journalist who had recently completed a Master’s in Creative Writing, he brought with him a personal connection to the history of the Armenian genocide and a desire to explore how this might translate into a story for young audiences.

Our early conversations and playing in the studio led to The Bench, a short piece for audiences aged 8+. It brought together two generations: an older Armenian man who had lived through the events of 1915 and a young boy living nearby. Through the simple act of building a park bench together, the two characters formed a connection, allowing the older man to share memories of the genocide and the death marches into the Syrian Desert inflicted upon ethnic Armenians by the Ottoman Empire. It was a deceptively simple idea, using a familiar, everyday activity to create a space where a difficult history could be shared. The piece worked well as a scratch performance, but Joe and I both felt there was more to explore. What might happen if we took these ideas further? Could we make more radical connections between the past and the present, and between the experiences of those who had survived historical atrocities and the generations who inherited their memories, pain and unanswered questions?

What followed was a new period of research and development, with co-creation sessions involving young people from Half Moon’s local schools and youth theatres. This time, we wanted to explore the material with an older teenage and young adult audience in mind. Joe returned to family members and elders within the Armenian community, listening to their memories and experiences of the genocide. Sadly, some of those people have since passed away, which makes the importance of preserving and sharing these stories all the more poignant.

But we also wanted to look beyond 1915. What struck us was the painful parallel with the experiences of Christian Armenian Syrians forced to flee sectarian violence during the Syrian civil war, including the threat posed by ISIS. In a sense, the journey was reversed: people once driven into the Syrian Desert were now fleeing from it, carrying their own experiences of displacement, loss and uncertainty.

The question became how these histories might speak to one another without suggesting that every experience of conflict is the same. What connects people across generations, and what happens when the trauma of one generation continues to shape the lives of those who follow?

During the early stages of this new writing, Joe moved to Berlin. I felt that this geographical shift offered a compelling setting for the play, and encouraged him to follow that instinct. The result was a new piece, initially titled One Night of Freedom, which eventually became Bones in the Desert.

Set in Berlin in 2022, the play is told through the voice of Artur, a young refugee of Christian Armenian Syrian heritage who has fled the conflict and begun building a new life in Germany. His present-day experiences sit alongside the history of 1915, creating an unsettling connection between events separated by more than a century.

Through Artur, Joe explores identity, belonging, displacement and the psychological impact of unresolved trauma. He also draws on research into epigenetics - the ways in which experiences and environmental stress can influence how genes are expressed - to ask difficult questions about what might be carried from one generation to another. Artur’s persistent anxiety and depression, and the sense that he is struggling with something he cannot fully explain, became particularly important to the development process. These themes resonated strongly with the young people involved in shaping the work. Their responses helped us interrogate the writing, question our assumptions and think carefully about how the story might connect with audiences experiencing their own uncertainties about identity, family, history and the world around them. This is one of the things I value most about developing work with young people. It isn't simply a case of asking for feedback once a script has been written. Their perspectives can become part of the dramaturgical journey itself, challenging the creative team to look again, dig deeper and sometimes rethink what we thought we understood. Developing Bones in the Desert has been a long journey, and it feels a real privilege to now bring Joe’s debut commission to the stage. The play doesn't shy away from difficult historical and contemporary themes, but it does so through the story of one young man trying to make sense of his own life.

I'm delighted to be working with an incredible creative team, including Tony and Olivier Award-nominated composer and sound designer Nick Powell (The Ferryman, The Hills of California and The Lehman Trilogy), alongside the hugely talented lighting designer Claire Childs (Tiny Planet, Boulder and Snowsmith).

As with my previous award-winning work for young adult audiences, including Daytime Deewane, Crowded and Hot Orange, the production is immersive in style. I’m interested in how we can bring audiences physically and emotionally closer to a story, creating an experience that asks them to engage, question and make their own connections rather than simply sit back and watch.

The design has also been an important part of that process. I've taken inspiration from the work of Syrian and Armenian artists Manaf Halbouni and Leon Tutundjian, exploring how a visual world can hold the tensions between history, memory and the present.

And, as a little glimpse behind the scenes, Half Moon have put together a short video showing how my A4 watercolour painting on card was enlarged by the amazing scenic artist Owain Nicholls and transferred onto a recycled vinyl floor as part of the overall design. It's always fascinating to see how an initial idea develops into something that occupies a whole performance space.

You can watch the process here: See the design take shape on Vimeo.

I suppose what has stayed with me throughout this process is how stories can connect us to histories we might otherwise know very little about, and how those histories continue to shape the present. The Armenian genocide, forced migration, racism, questions of faith and belonging, and the impact of inherited trauma are not easy subjects. But they are part of a wider global story about what happens when people are displaced, when communities are fractured, and when experiences of violence and loss remain unspoken.

Bones in the Desert doesn't pretend to offer easy answers. Instead, it invites us to listen, to question and to think about the lives and histories that people carry with them. And, importantly, it asks us to consider what happens when we don't have the language or the space to make sense of those experiences.

As is always the case with shows with this age focus at Half Moon, each performance is followed by a simple Q & A, which allows audiences to voice their responses to the piece and learn a little more about the professional journeys of the actors and other creatives. For this tour, I'm particularly pleased that, in partnership with the Armenian Institute, the 7pm performance at Half Moon on Saturday 14 November will be followed by a special conversation. Joe and members of the creative team will be joined by Dr Suzan Meryem Rosita to explore the questions at the heart of the play: memory and inheritance, intergenerational trauma, diaspora identity, and the continuing resonance of Armenian histories and stories today. This will be particularly special.

So, if you have time, I’d love you to come along. Bones in the Desert is at Half Moon from 12–17 November, with tickets priced at just £9, before the production continues on tour until 2 December. You can book tickets and find all the details includng the tour dates here: Bones in the Desert at Half Moon.

And if you can't make this one, but fancy something a little lighter in the new year, my production of Big Red Bath for ages 2–5 is being revived by Half Moon in co-production with Full House Theatre, touring from February to April. More details are available here.

Until next time.

Photo - in rehearsals with actors Adam Seridji & Dara Anklesaria