I don’t know where to begin. I really don’t. Right now, I’m up to my knees in paper. Transcriptions of interviews, history books, notebooks, photocopies, pictures, and other research materials.In the middle of this chaos, there are some words that are gradually forming a thing that I will eventually call The Play.
I’m now at the stage where I think I will know what it will look like. (But honestly, this is only a guess). There will be the outline of a living room in a Glasgow home. There will be a window behind that will show projections of actions and pictures. On two chairs, there will be two people – a man and a woman. They will chat to you, tell you about their lives.
A story of home
They will tell you about how they were born in Germany to Jewish families in the 1920s and how they fled Nazi rule to make a new home in Scotland. They will tell you about cooking and meeting the Queen and something called ‘ski-bobbing’. They will be funny, generous and intelligent. And at some point, one of them will drink a cup of tea. They are not extraordinary people, just people who have lived an extraordinary life. They will tell you the story of their home. I’m looking forward to seeing it.
