By Dominique La Victoria
When I received the very generous offer of a bursary to attend the Mercury Writers Barn, a rural retreat in the Kent Countryside for women and nonbinary musical theatre writers, I carried anticipation. Having just ended my full-time role in marketing and on the cusp of stepping into my next chapter, I knew in my gut this was the time away I’d need. I also carried plenty of questions that were plagued by my own self-doubt as an artist – Would I have enough to offer the space? Would the secluded environment only serve to highlight what I lacked? – Which probably tells you exactly why I needed to be in a rural retreat with women and nonbinary musical theatre writers, who had all perhaps felt the exact same way at some point.
I arrived in Shoreham, Kent on a very hot Monday in July. I’d travelled from rainy Glasgow the previous day and was very overwhelmed by the London city heat. I couldn’t wait to get away to the countryside. On the train, the towering concrete furnace of London slowly gave way to Kent, leaving only myself and our cohort of writers with heavy baggage in a small, quiet train station just a five minute drive from our retreat venue. Reflecting back on it now, I realise that we weren’t just carrying bags of clothes and snacks – and for one writer whom we were all very grateful for, a portable air conditioner – we were carrying expectations, industry experience and stories of all kinds, and plenty of hope and excitement for the next few days.
As we approached The Quadrangle, the sprawling barn space we were going to occupy in the next few days, I could feel my own questions and metaphorical baggage gently creep away. We were welcomed by breeze, sunshine, snacks – and most importantly, the women who would shape the experience: Melody and Lexi from MMD and Kyla and Natalie from Find Your Light Retreat. The space they created and the experiences they prepared for us didn’t just make us feel welcome and relaxed, they made us feel nourished, held, and understood. MMD curated workshops led by brilliant women creatives sharing, among many things, their experiences of working in the industry, their wisdom in building relationships with producers and collaborators, and guidance on how best to pitch and represent your work. No prescriptions, no “must-do’s”, but insights to gently carry as we move forwards into our careers.
Kyla and Natalie nurtured our creative, collaborative, festive, and reflective spirits by setting up a movie night, game night, quiz night, arts and crafts, and what I’m sure the entire cohort agrees was an emotionally significant campfire evening. Most importantly, they gave us the space and time to explore the barn, the river, and the gardens on our own or with each other – no expectations, no pressures, only a request to be prompt during mealtimes.
And of course I must mention the wonderful food they cooked for us throughout our stay. Love in every bite!
The strongest impression the retreat left on me, as an artist, happened early in the experience. It was what came in the moments after we were gently handed the gift of rest and nourishment. For most of us, it took two days to settle into the rhythm and spirit of the retreat. Not because we didn’t want these moments of rest and reflection, but because it seemed a challenge to give ourselves permission to rest, to just be. This retreat gave us the space to discuss these emotions freely and without shame. With the pressures that women and nonbinary creatives face in the musical theatre industry being numerous, we are expected to be in a constant state of hustle, movement, and momentum. Where our creativity becomes currency, a tool for productivity.
A break from productive creativity? What leisure!
On a personal note, I realised midway through the week that this retreat was the first time I’d been in a secluded environment with no men for an extended period of time. I never realised how much “armour” I’d been putting on every single day of my daily life to account for my safety and comfort. For three straight afternoons, I managed to take a proper nap outdoors, on the grass, with only a picnic blanket beneath me and a hat over my face. As a migrant and woman of colour in the musical theatre industry, my creative work is often tangled with matters that many of my peers will never have to tangle with. Especially since the work that got me into the industry in the first place requires so much activism from all of my intersectionalities that I have to summon some type of will to even speak about it in normal settings. Every time I enter musical theatre spaces, I always need to gather some sort of strength because I know I’ll need to discuss This Is My Name. I was honestly glad that it barely came up.
As I settle back into life outside the barn and face the rhythm and challenges of my next adventure – surprise, I went viral on TikTok and started a freelance social media management and content creation business – I find myself especially grateful that I had the chance to put all of that aside, to loosen my shoulders, allow myself to be held, and find a space where I didn’t have to be so strong all the time.
