Resource Category: Artist Development

Staying in Touch: Featuring Ella McGran

Ella, a white woman in her early 20s, siting in a black studio space. She is looking at something off to the right that we can't see, with an unclear expression on her face - is it concern?

Welcome to Staying in Touch — a series where we catch up with artists who’ve been part of our Artist Development programmes.

Artist Development is central to our work: a way to connect outwards, open things up, and keep learning, as together we push the boundaries of Sensory Theatre. Through this series, we’re shining a light on where these artists are now, what advice they’d give others, and what’s stuck with them from their time at Oily Cart. It’s all about celebrating both individuals, and the wider community we’re all a part of — the artists, young people and companies who are shifting what theatre can be and who it’s for.

Ella, a white woman in her early 20s, siting in a black studio space. She is looking at something off to the right that we can't see, with an unclear expression on her face - is it concern?
Ella in her solo show, Operation Shrink. Credit: Christa Holka.

In this blog, we hear from theatre-maker, facilitator and producer, Ella McGran. Ella completed a placement with us in 2023, as part of her degree in Theatre and Social Change at Rose Bruford College.

Since my placement with Oily Cart back in 2023, I have now graduated with a First Class BA (Hons) Degree in Theatre and Social Change from Rose Bruford College. My placement heavily influenced the work that I carried out in my final year of study as I was inspired to write my dissertation on the use of Sensory Theatre practices alongside classical texts, and how these techniques can aid our understanding of unfamiliar language.

Since graduating, I have been working predominantly as a theatre facilitator. I’m currently on a School’s project with Go Live Theatre, where we are working with learning disabled young people in 3 London-based schools to create their very own shows about kindness to perform to their peers, teachers, and family members. As a producer, I have been working on the development and future of my autobiographical solo show about disordered eating, which I hope one day will tour secondary schools and colleges around the country to support young people who may be experiencing something similar.

Billie holds up a clear glass bottle filled with water. An unseen light underneath the bottle magically casts rippling shadows onto the white ceiling above.
Ella collaborated with other students (like former Placement student Billie, pictured) to explore the use of Sensory Theatre in a scene from The Tempest, ahead of her dissertation practical assessment. Credit: Ella McGran.

My time at Oily Cart massively shaped the way that I work and what is important to me as a producer, theatre-maker, and facilitator. One moment that has really stuck with me was a staff sensory walk where we guided each other around the park with our eyes closed, focusing on touch, sound and smell. I have since used this with young people, and they love it!

My advice to anyone wanting to work in theatre or, more specifically, Sensory Theatre, would be to tell everyone you meet about what you believe in and where you want to be. When working with young people, always take their lead; they often know what they need best, and you can and will learn so much from them.

For me, the connections that can be made through Sensory Theatre are what makes the work so meaningful and unlike any other. Whilst I continue to focus on my solo show for now, I hope to one day produce a brand new sensory theatre show (or two…)!!

Find out more about Ella and her work at https://www.ellamcgran.com and follow her on Instagram @ellakmcgran

Introducing Rhiannon Armstrong, Director of When the World Turns

Rhiannon is a white person with a brown bob and blunt fringe, wearing a black shirt. They are smiling and looking intently into the camera. They are a in a room - maybe an art studio - with white walls, a paint covered wooden ladder leant against a wall, and various plants and pots.

Our current touring production of When the World Turns is directed by award-winning interdisciplinary artist, Rhiannon Armstrong. We’ve been lucky to collaborate with Rhiannon on different projects and in different ways over the past few years, from dramaturg on Jamboree to joining Oily Cart as our first Associate Artist in 2019.

Rhiannon is a white person with a brown bob and blunt fringe, wearing a black shirt. They are smiling and looking intently into the camera. They are a in a room - maybe an art studio - with white walls, a paint covered wooden ladder leant against a wall, and various plants and pots.


Rhiannon first worked on When the World Turns to create an audio piece for a work in progress sharing as part of Bibu Festival, Sweden. As a live artist working in relational practice, we were excited by the wealth of new skills and ways of thinking they would bring to Oily Cart and When the World Turns as Director.

An extended white arm with fingers outstretched. On the wrist is a bracelet of black and white straws. There is a sense of movement, as though the arm has just twisted, sending the straws to wave outwards in different directions. The diagonal black and white stripes of the straw are mirrored by the white wall in the background, with diagonal stripes of shadow.
The White Noise Factory. Photo: Jemima Yong.


We wanted to share the blog Rhiannon wrote in 2019 at the end of their time as Associate Artist: at the bottom of the page there is also a video introducing their current project, The White Noise Factory:

How did I get here?

I hear a lot of talk about ‘challenging work’: this is usually presumed to mean work that challenges its audience, rather than the audience’s capacity to challenge the assumptions and processes of those that are doing the making.

There is an inclusivity at work at Oily Cart that I wanted to immerse myself in. Like many aspects of my life, my evolving work in sensory performance now lets me sit astride two worlds. Depending on the context:

  • I am both enabled and disabled
  • I am both a migrant and a national
  • I am both a young people’s sensory maker and an experimental performance/live artist

Being in both worlds stops me getting too comfortable in my perspectives and helps me question mine and others’ assumptions. I also get to bring philosophies and practices from each context and let them influence one another. I intend to keep melding, percolating, pollinating worlds.

What did I do as an associate?

I began by working as dramaturg on Ellie’s first two productions as Artistic Director: Jamboree, and All Wrapped Up. I brought experience and skills in ensemble performance-making to the company while also expanding my understanding of Sensory Theatre, and the barriers faced by audiences and collaborators alike. 

All Wrapped Up production image. Young audience members, joined by a performer, stick scraps of paper to strings of sellotape hanging overhead. The image is dark with purple tones.
Scene from All Wrapped Up. Photo credit: Suzi Corker.

An associateship can give both company and individuals space to develop successful long-term working relationships. I was collaborating artist on Something Love, and commissioned to create a sound work for When The World Turns, with Oily Cart and Polyglot Theatre (Australia).

My final act as associate was to travel to BIBU for my first taste of the international Sensory Theatre scene. As an independent artist it is rare to be able to attend these symposia and festivals.

Making my own sensory work

Oily Cart also encouraged me to seek funding to begin creating my own sensory work, providing mentoring, in kind studio and production support, and introductions to families and schools. The Covid-19 pandemic derailed a lot of my plans but thanks to support from Oily Cart and my funders (Unlimited, Jerwood Arts, and Paul Hamlyn) I was able to undertake collaborative explorations into sound as a form of touch and intimacy without social interaction, with staff and students at Swiss Cottage School; Sam and Lucy Bowen; and Tim Spooner.

Rhiannon, a white adult with a brown bob and blunt fringe, kneels in front of session musician Lucy, a white teenager with pink glasses, a yellow gilet and using a wheelchair. Lucy and Rhiannon look intently at each other, as Rhiannon holds a tambourine to Lucy's mouth. Lucy's mum Sam sits close by. Sound equipment is in the foreground.
Working with Lucy Bowen (session musician on The White Noise Factory).

The resulting project is now called The White Noise Factory. Its process is particularly attentive to young people’s inherent musicality, and considers possibilities for collaboration across time and distance, without relying on linguistic communication. The work explores what happens when we privilege sensory meaning-making over intellectual meaning-making.

What do I want to say about my time as Associate Artist

The main thing I want to emphasise is how much of a ripple effect my time as Associate has had. I have just finished a spell as artist in residence at Ashmount School in Loughborough with Attenborough Arts Centre. I would never have undertaken this residency before or have even known about it. Tim Spooner and I made a whole new sensory listening device which has already travelled with me to specialist schools and into family homes as part of remote and in person sensory sound collaborations. This was Tim’s first experience of making work for those who face the most barriers to access: our conversations about intended audience and the complex and intense nature of barriers to access have recurred in my work with other companies who don’t have experience in the sensory sector.

Watch a short video about The White Noise Factory (currently seeking development support):


Follow Rhiannon Armstrong @armstrongtactic

My Placement with Oily Cart: A Journey into Sensory Theatre

From left to right: Access and Wellbeing Officer, Maka; Placement Student Billie; and Executive Director, Zoë. They smile widely. They are standing in the rehearsal room at Oily Cart, a white studio space with tall windows, plants and a speckled large blue musical egg prop behind them.
Billie, with Access Officer Maka (left) and Executive Director Zoë (right)

About Me
My name is Billie Antimony, (@billie_antimony) I’m a performance artist, facilitator, producer, and student currently pursuing my BA(Hons) in Theatre and Social Change from Rose Bruford College. My art explores themes of neurodiversity and disability, often with queer identity. I aim to create art that represents minoritised groups and amplifies marginalised voices, with a focus on how these identities can intersect. I’m passionate about making theatre more inclusive and accessible, I believe in the power of performance to ignite social change.

My journey with Sensory Theatre began when I worked with Ella McGran, a previous Oily Cart placement student, on her dissertation project. Through Ella, I was introduced to the transformative world of Sensory Theatre and Oily Cart’s groundbreaking work. This experience sparked my interest in the field and ultimately led me to apply to pursue my final year producing placement with Oily Cart—a dream come true and an incredible opportunity to deepen my understanding of this incredible, unique art form. I also gained a deeper understanding of how Oily Cart prioritises access, develops audiences, and situates themselves as pioneers of the industry. Their innovative approach to Sensory Theatre—creating immersive, multi-sensory experiences for audiences with the most barriers to access—felt like the perfect environment to grow as a producer and artist, and gain invaluable industry experience.

Gaining Industry Experience

Stepping into Oily Cart’s world was like entering a creative playground. From day one, I was completely immersed in the practicalities of running a theatre company that prioritises inclusivity and accessibility. I got to see how a small but mighty team collaborates to bring their visionary ideas to life, and talk with individuals about how their particular role fits into the system. Whether it was observing how they adapted their processes to meet the needs of their audiences, actors, and staff, or learning about the logistics of touring sensory performances, every moment was a lesson in how to make theatre truly accessible.

A Crash Course in Sensory Theatre

Beyond the practical experience in the office and rehearsal room, my placement also gave me a crash course in the theory behind Sensory Theatre, with oodles of resources to read though, videos to watch, and interviews to dissect. I learned about the importance of sensory integration, the role of neurodiversity in audience engagement, and how to design performances that are inclusive from the ground up. Being able to talk with inspiring artists such as Rhiannon Armstrong and Ellie Griffiths was truly an honour, the opportunity to witness their creative process live was an education and a half. These insights have not only deepened my understanding of Sensory Theatre but have also influenced how I approach my own work as an artist.  

Experiencing Sensory Theatre Firsthand

One of the highlights of my placement was experiencing Sensory Theatre in action. Oily Cart’s work is deeply rooted in creating intimate, personalised experiences for their audiences. I had the chance to observe how they use sound, lighting, touch, smell, and movement to engage audiences in ways that traditional theatre often overlooks. It was inspiring to see how much thought and care goes into every detail, from the textures of the props to the pacing of the performance.

Observing Rehearsals for When the World Turns

The When the World Turns white canopy roof. Unseen bowls of illuminated water below have cast circles of dappled, rippling light above. There is a yellow circle in the centre, with a ring of blue circles around the outside.

A particular highlight of my placement was observing rehearsals for Oily Cart’s new tour, When the World Turns. This production is a beautiful exploration of the ecosystem we are all a part of, designed for young audiences with the most barriers to access. Watching the creative team work was like witnessing magic in the making. The way they experimented with sensory elements—like the sound of rain on our paper shelters, or the feeling of a shoe-brush-snake as it wiggles across arms—was both artistic and deeply care-centred. It was fascinating to see how they embodied creativity and playfulness to create an experience that would resonate with their audience.

Having the chance to sit in as an audience member during dress rehearsals was an experience I will never forget, and it has inspired me to pursue creative positions within Sensory Theatre. I was bought into a world where the only thing that mattered was my unapologetic, radical joy in this sensory moment. I was able to stim, tic and verbalise as I needed, something that I am not all that used to. My favourite moment was watching the lights dancing on the top of the tent, as it reflected off the water I was moving with my own hands.

Being a Disabled Artist: Unmasking in a Professional Space

As a disabled artist, I’ve often felt pressure to mask or downplay my disability in professional settings. But at Oily Cart, I felt seen and valued for who I am. The team’s commitment to accessibility and inclusion isn’t just limited to their audiences—it extends to their artists and staff as well. Hearing members of the creative and producing team talk openly about their own access needs was incredibly healing. This environment allowed me to unmask and fully embrace my identity as a disabled creative. It was a powerful reminder that my disability isn’t something to be hidden, but something valued that brings unique perspective that can enrich the creative process. Me and my disability have intrinsic value at Oily Cart. I may have started in November a nervous wreck, but by February I was sitting with my collection of fidgets and headphones typing away without any fear of judgement.

Final Thoughts

My lived experiences, and degree in Theatre and Social Change, have shaped how I view the role of art in society: it is a vital part of telling the story of those who many think have no voice. My time with Oily Cart reinforced the importance of this mission. Seeing how they centre their audiences—most of whom are neurodivergent and / or disabled —in every aspect of their process was incredibly affirming. It reminded me that theatre can be a powerful tool for social change, especially when it prioritises inclusivity and representation.

My time with Oily Cart was more than just a placement—it was a transformative experience. I walked away with a deeper appreciation for the power of Sensory Theatre, a stronger sense of confidence in my identity as a disabled artist, and a wealth of knowledge that I’ll carry with me throughout my career.

If you’re an artist or theatremaker looking to expand your horizons, I can’t recommend Oily Cart enough. Their work is a testament to the fact that theatre can—and should—be for everyone.

Greta McMillan announced as Oily Cart Associate Artist 2024

In this photo Greta is sitting in her wheelchair in front of one of her paintings hanging on the wall. She is a young white woman with brown hair and she is wearing a patterned beanie hat with a pink jumper and fluffy black jacket. The painting behind her is a mix of yellow, pink and black swirls and lines on a white background.]

We are delighted to announce that Greta McMillan has joined Oily Cart as our Associate Artist for 2024. Greta McMillan is a multi-disciplinary artist, filmmaker and climate activist, who uses eyegaze technology to create and communicate. Greta has been recognised by the Scottish Parliament, and her artwork been exhibited internationally. She is a recipient of the ‘Changes for a Better World’ Into Film Award 2022, and winner of the Scottish Youth Film Foundation ‘Films for our Future’ short film competition 2022.

In this photo Greta is sitting in her wheelchair in front of one of her paintings hanging on the wall. She is a young white woman with brown hair and she is wearing a patterned beanie hat with a pink jumper and fluffy black jacket. The painting behind her is a mix of yellow, pink and black swirls and lines on a white background.]

Oily Cart’s Associate Artist programme champions and supports disabled artists to develop their sensory theatre practice and leadership skills to create a more representative sensory theatre-making sector. Having worked with Greta as a young artist in recent years, including on the development of our show When the World Turns, we are excited to support this next step in her creative career.

As Associate Artist, Greta McMillan will be working as Co-Director, alongside sensory artist Natalya Martin, to adapt When the World Turns into an At Home show.

Oily Cart’s Artistic Director & Joint CEO, Ellie Griffiths, said:

“We are delighted to have Greta as this year’s Associate Artist. We have long admired Greta’s work across different disciplines and her approaches to art-making. Her perspective and feedback on our sensory performance work has always been insightful and illuminating. I am excited to see what she comes up with, given more creative freedom and room to lead. I know this will push our work in different directions and ask rich questions of us a company and sensory work as a whole. This is the exact aim of the Associate Artist programme at Oily Cart: to nurture new talent in the field of sensory theatre that can break up its patterns and put it all back together again led by a more representative community of artists and makers.”

Greta McMillan said:

“As an Associate Artist with Oily Cart, I am enjoying working as part of a creative team. I am excited to have more independence as an artist, working with a team outside of my parents and family. My process is always changing with every new person I work with, I am learning new ways of working.

Over the course of this project I will have the space and time to push myself as an artist and develop my artmaking skills using my technology. It has been nice to have time to explore different art forms – film, photography, painting and music. Accessible sensory art is important and I would like to see more being created.”

Instagram @gretaseyegazeart
Youtube @gretarafimcmillan8530

Oily Cart’s Associate Artist programme champions and supports disabled artists to develop their sensory theatre practice and develop leadership skills to create a more representative sensory theatre making sector. 

Blog: Emily Nicholl reflects on Jerwood Fellowship

Two people play with their dogs on a sandy beach under a light pinky blue cloudy sky at sunset. There are reflections of the clouds and pink sky in a watery pool on the beach. It's cold out so the people wear bright jackets. One is throwing something into the sea.

Jerwood Fellowships was an Imaginate project in partnership with Oily Cart and funded by Jerwood Arts which offered professional development support for four artists over two years to explore new performance ideas with a focus on supporting D/deaf and/or disabled artists and children. In this blog, originally published by Imaginate, Jerwood Fellow Emily Nicholl reflects on her fellowship so far, including her mentorship by our Artistic Director Ellie. This is Part 2 of her blogs: you can read Part 1 here.

Two people play with their dogs on a sandy beach under a light pinky blue cloudy sky at sunset. There are reflections of the clouds and pink sky in a watery pool on the beach. It's cold out so the people wear bright jackets. One is throwing something into the sea.
Image description: Two people play with their dogs on a sandy beach under a light pinky blue cloudy sky at sunset. There are reflections of the clouds and pink sky in a watery pool on the beach. It’s cold out so the people wear bright jackets. One is throwing something into the sea.

You can download this blog as a pdf:

We have been able to spend time in workshops with the wonderful play worker, artist and consultant Max Alexander. Max’s ‘A Playful Manifesto’ brings such beautiful observations to the meaning and practice of play. His generous words give radical permission to play and to fail with compassion, joy and the permission to value others and ourselves. Looking sideways around things, catching ourselves by surprise, observing ourselves through thought or feeling, resisting ‘achievement’ as what we validate ourselves with. His words remind me of the practice of circus artists as they catch themselves or the audience by surprise and find ways to express the obsessive beauty they find in an object or movement through play, risk and failure.

“You can’t fail at play. We need space in our lives for things we can’t fail at, things we can’t judge ourselves on.” Max Alexander.

When speaking with Ellie Griffiths of Oily Cart, her self-awareness which centres another experience is inspiring. The importance of and process with which one can question your own positionality seems something tangible to observe and learn from her work and the way she talks about it. Through Oily Cart’s use of the social model of disability, their work and process allows for a removal of barriers and a centring of the person in order to offer relevant, responsive and positive theatrical experiences.  The political nature of their work raises the importance of providing shared cultural experiences for disabled young people and families. When we are so separated by society between disabled and non-disabled communities, the importance also of shared experiences and resisting that separation is highlighted by aiming to offer more visibility to disabled audience and artist led work in theatrical spaces, whilst also remaining true to what feels comfortable for this audience with their new work to be enjoyed at home made during the pandemic. This work is as inspiring as any others of theirs. Beautiful, thoughtful care packages of curated experiences, and fascinating sensory film ‘Something Love’ which resonated greatly.

As the pandemic also shines a light on what and who theatres are for, we ask what could offer a greater sense of belonging to these spaces for those chronically made to feel uncomfortable. When so much is about a shared experience, I’ve always preferred circles for performing in or watching from, but I find myself questioning even more so of late, what’s enjoyable about straight on rectangular shapes. Both Max and Ellie speak about not necessarily being able to make something that will please absolutely everyone at once, or allow everyone in, much like many things in life perhaps. But who are the traditional theatre rules for, who do they serve, what else can be done to remove barriers?

Thinking in responsive or sensory ways offers something insightful to a theatre making process for all and any audiences. This feels useful and important to notice, but it also feels slightly uncomfortable. Unsure where the politics lies when this learning to make theatre for audiences who don’t get enough theatre made for them, might shift into learning how to make better theatrical experiences for audiences who get theatre made for them already all the time.

Sensory work as inclusive, also then asks questions of the structures within which work is made. Swept up in a system (and arts sector) which asks for faster, better, more, with short deadlines, unfair access to funding and perpetuates its own elitisms, expectations and extractions from people and environment alike, what needs questioned? Is it, for example, enough to represent this work in a theatre’s program, or what else could we also interrogate? Disabled artist and activist voices have been offering guidance, advice and making demands for a very long time. During the fellowship, learning from the work of Birds of Paradise has been informative and generous, in this blog Sandra Alland highlights experiences during the pandemic for freelancers. In Not Going Back To Normal, this collective disabled arts manifesto for a radically accessible world is also filled with generous, honest, exciting and damning words.

Image description: An empty bar or cafe during the first lockdown. The photograph is taken through the window and with the photographer’s reflection in the pane of glass. In focus is an empty wooden chair next to a wooden table facing another window opposite. There are chairs stacked upside down on other tables and empty armchairs. Through the window on the opposite side of the cafe is an empty street with people walking in the distance. The photo is in black and white.
Image description: An empty bar or cafe during the first lockdown. The photograph is taken through the window and with the photographer’s reflection in the pane of glass. In focus is an empty wooden chair next to a wooden table facing another window opposite. There are chairs stacked upside down on other tables and empty armchairs. Through the window on the opposite side of the cafe is an empty street with people walking in the distance. The photo is in black and white.

Despite aiming to play and allow myself to fail and acknowledge structural issues, this time did also give a lot of fear. Of not getting it right, of failing, of not using my time wisely. Of causing harm or upset to others. Of not being the right person. Of overstepping, of saying the wrong thing. Of not doing enough. Of not knowing enough. Is this entire blog post naive? Of nearing the end of this time whilst still feeling very much at the beginning.  Of being very much alone with my thoughts or with other people’s faces and voices streaming in from my laptop rather than in the physical collaboration which I am perhaps more used to. Of ‘who am I’ to be here on my own in my flat supported to do this, whilst so many people, families, teachers, face such enormous difficulty this year and all years. Of feeling very slow. Feeling my way between guilt and compassion as I took breaks to look after health and mental health.

Something which Imaginate was clear about from the beginning was that this fellowship is a period of support and learning with no specific outcome expected. Something generous, overwhelming and challenging all at once.  Navigating what I best need, what to do with this time which has been crafted by Imaginate and Jerwood Arts in order to do what many now call for in order to give long term, funded, supported positions. I feel incredibly fortunate to have been supported at this time.

At the middle to end point, I realise I arrived with many questions and currently have even more. (classic) I realise there are questions I am afraid to ask. Questions I don’t have the language for. Questions around pulling lots of strands of research together, into tangible physical or sensory experiences or a live event. Questions of process, of bringing the right team together, of being relevant, of being responsive, of how to make space for play and seriousness together. 

It’s obvious that people or audiences or young people who are chronically left out, marginalised, or invisibilised, have so much to offer to the world and deepen our understandings of the world. As Naoki Higashida writes in ‘The Reason I Jump: one boy’s voice from the silence of autism’

“So how do people with autism see the world, exactly? We, and only we, can ever know the answer to that one! Sometimes I actually pity you for not being able to see the beauty of the world in the same way we do. Really, our vision of the world can be incredible, just incredible …” (p55)

A close up of very green ferns. Spiky green leaves curl to the left, as another leaf which is more in focus curls towards the camera. Their stems are brown. They are soft but spiky with individual leaves picked out by the light and shadow.
Image description: A close up of very green ferns. Spiky green leaves curl to the left, as another leaf which is more in focus curls towards the camera. Their stems are brown. They are soft but spiky with individual leaves picked out by the light and shadow.

Thanks to Ellen Renton for her advice on the audio description of the photographs.

Find out more about the project Emily developed during her Jerwood Fellowship here. You can find out more about the Jerwood Fellowships here.

Jerwood Fellow 2020-2022: Claire Eliza Willoughby

A four-piece band performing on a dimly lit stage. Claire is in the centre, singing. Each performer is wearing an outfit using the same patterned material of flowers and plants. The mics and other bits of staging are wrapped in ivy.

Jerwood Fellowships was an Imaginate project in partnership with Oily Cart and funded by Jerwood Arts which offered professional development support for four artists over two years to explore new performance ideas with a focus on supporting D/deaf and/or disabled artists and children. In this blog, originally published by Imaginate, Jerwood Fellow Claire Eliza Willoughby shares about her practice and the performance idea she developed during her fellowship.

A four-piece band performing on a dimly lit stage. Claire is in the centre, singing. Each performer is wearing an outfit using the same patterned material of flowers and plants. The mics and other bits of staging are wrapped in ivy.
Photo: Mihaela Bodlovic

I am a musician, performer and theatre maker based in Glasgow. I am particularly interested in creating work that is playful, visual, and explores the live-ness of being in a room with an audience. I trained in clown, and am always really excited to bring that practice into the rehearsal room – what it means to take risks/ to fail/ to be bad at something/ to enjoy and interrogate the two-way relationship between performer and audience member. I sing, and play a number of instruments, so I also like to use those in the work I make. I am constantly intrigued in the alternating ways we can layer different mediums in theatre over one another – a bit like a canvas on stage with different colours and paint brushes and textures of paint. And then scrape it back and reveal the canvas underneath.

As part of my Jerwood Fellowship – a two year period (2020-2022) of research, training, creative development and work experience, focused on making sensory work for young audiences – I developed a performance idea called Dussskk. I was inspired to make an artistically ambitious, sensory piece of work that brings body, breath and voice together to address some of the hormonal and physical changes that happen in adolescence, which can be particularly unsettling for disabled young people.

Dussskk is a musikdrama for young people with additional support needs, specifically created for those who enjoy sound and seek sensory aural experiences. The piece will be a hybrid of gig / choral concert and immersive Gesamtkunstwerk – “a total work of art”. Dussskk is inspired by difficult transitional periods, emotional shifts and the magic of the inbetween. It is not driven by a narrative, or storyline as such – rather, the piece follows the dramatic arc of a transformative journey from morning to night, explored though sound, costume, lighting and movement. It will feel mature, powerful, aurally stimulating and is a celebration of the dark and light in all of us.

I envision Dussskk to be an immersive, kinaesthetic and aural experience with many facets of the performance – lighting, sound, costume and movement – coming together to envelop the audience, who can move freely amongst the performers. There is no division between “stage” and “audience” – instead, the performers inhabit the space like a living, moving, breathing creature, making full use of proximity and distance. It will feature 6 singers and will use the full range of vocal expression – from breath sounds and ugly, crunchy vocals to choral singing –  to create something that feels new and exciting for this audience.

Documentation of the most recent R&D, at the end of my Jerwood Fellowship.

Claire’s blog, written part-way through her Fellowship, shares insights into her creative process. You can find out more about the Jerwood Fellowships here.

Associate Artist Jo-anne Cox: The journey of the ‘Dragon’

This is a close up shot, the room is dark, a young person's hands are resting on a tray table, and hovering just above the tray table is a translucent green blue and yellow dragon puppet. A supporter holds the puppet with one hand and shines a light on its wings, illuminating the dragon and bathing the young person's hands and the tray table in colour.

Our Associate Artist 2022, Jo-anne Cox, is a neurodivergent musician who plays a purple sparkling Bridge Violins “Dragon” cello. Stemming from improvisation and exploration, together they create original music, mixing up texture, loops and the dynamic voice of the cello.  Jo-anne enjoys cross artform and musical collaborations, and devising work with a focus on audience interaction, access and inclusion. Here, she talks about developing her sensory practice during her time as Oily Cart’s Associate Artist.

As Oily Cart Associate Artist 2022, I led a project at JFK School in Stratford with young people who experience the most barriers to access, aged 8-13. Guided by Artistic Director Ellie Griffiths, I set out to explore the wild and calm outpourings of my “dragon cello”.

In past work, the dragon cello and I made statements about the value of people for who they are and the destructive forces of right-wing capitalism. I think it is important to include young people who experience the most barriers in politicised disability arts. 

 At JFK School, I began with soft sounds and built it up from there. Fears I had that the sounds would be overpowering were allayed as I observed young people leaning towards the cello with interest. Instead of introducing the wild, I soon found myself following the lead of a young person responding with an excited force of swirling vocalisation and movement.

Jo-anne is relaxed and sitting with her purple sparkling cello, wearing a white top, purple sparkly material around my waist and a full white skirt overlapping a netted vintage skirt. Jo-anne's brown shoulder length hair is pulled back and she is wearing a see-through face mask. She is bouncing her bow and looking towards something happening in the room (not pictured)
Image description: I am relaxed and sitting with my purple sparkling cello,  wearing a white top, with purple sparkly material around my waist and a full white skirt overlapping a netted vintage skirt. My brown shoulder-length hair is pulled back and I am wearing a see-through face mask. I am bouncing my bow and looking towards something happening in the room (not pictured). Photographer: Clare Conroy.

During the residency I worked with collaborators: Gary Day from Garden of Music and puppeteer Rachel Warr. Gary introduced switches, soundbeam and iPads demonstrating with a natural non-verbal rapport. Creative Enabler Lowri Jenkins supported two of the young people with a microphone and echo effect. Breathing sounds and low vocalisations intermingled with tech sounds and cello and a spontaneous piece of contemporary music emerged in a room darkened for ambience.

Video description: On an iPad screen against a white background is a picture of a friendly green dragon. A block bar of colour across the screen is moved by the touch of a finger. As the bar travels up and down over the dragon it triggers electronic sound going up and down.

Working in the sensory room with puppeteer Rachel, a hushed sense of wonder followed the dimming of lights. A translucent dragon puppet took flight and the young people tracked the creature as it travelled from person to person, bathing them in colour. The cello looped airy textures and followed the journey of the dragon. Soon the young people had their own shadow dragons to explore in this absorbing experience.  

Sound description: Over an airy atmospheric loop, the cello plaintively follows the flight of the dragon puppet, up and down a little before soaring up and sliding between high notes. The voices of some young people vocalising are heard as they engage with the dragon puppets.
This is a close up shot, the room is dark, a young person's hands are resting on a tray table, and hovering just above the tray table is a translucent green blue and yellow dragon puppet. A supporter holds the puppet with one hand and shines a light on its wings, illuminating the dragon and bathing the young person's hands and the tray table in colour.
Image description: This is a close-up shot. The room is dark, a young person’s hands are resting on a tray table, and hovering just above the tray table is a translucent green, blue and yellow dragon puppet. A supporting adult holds the puppet with one hand and shines a light on its wings, illuminating the dragon and bathing the young person’s hands and the tray table in colour. Photographer: Clare Conroy

Working at the school with the same young people over the weeks enabled participation to develop over time. Responses included tracking light, listening, vocalising, movement, reaching out for shiny material and puppets, smiling, laughing and deeper breathing.

It was wonderful to receive this feedback from one of the teachers at JFK:

“I am so so grateful for the opportunity you gave us to work with Jo-anne and the team. It was such a wonderful experience for all the students and staff.  I am always trying to look for enriching activities for our learners with complex needs and this was truly spectacular” 

I am keen to further develop the piece into an immersive sound and light-based work, set in the world of the dragon. I would continue with the residency style approach, having time to get to know the audience and what works for them. 

As a musician who has faced barriers, I feel it is important to share that high quality access was crucial to my well-being and success. I had one person from the Oily Cart team dedicated to my access throughout, and I had a Creative Enabler who supported me and my artistic practice. 

Website cello.joannesonia.live
Twitter @Josonia7
Instagram @joannecoxcello
Facebook @JoanneCoxElectricCello
Youtube @josonia1

Oily Cart’s Associate Artist programme champions and supports disabled artists to develop their sensory theatre practice and develop leadership skills to create a more representative sensory theatre making sector. 

Associate Artist Rhiannon Armstrong: Pollination and Ripples

Rhiannon, a white person with long brown hair, is standing holding a microphone up to record some bubbles popping.

Developing my sensory practice with Oily Cart by Rhiannon Armstrong

As we prepare to announce Oily Cart’s new Associate Artist, we want to share and celebrate some of the incredible work of our former Associate Artists, that happened mostly behind closed doors throughout the pandemic.

Rhiannon, a white person with long brown hair, is standing holding a microphone up to record the sounds of some bubbles popping.
Rhiannon recording bubbles popping

Rhiannon Armstrong is a multi-disciplinary artist whose work is sensitive and interactive. We felt a natural synergy with the ways Rhiannon works so we invited her to come and play in a sensory way.

How did I get here?

I hear a lot of talk about ‘challenging work’: this is usually presumed to mean work that challenges its audience, rather than the audience’s capacity to challenge the assumptions and processes of those that are doing the making.

There is a radical inclusivity at work at Oily Cart that I wanted to immerse myself in, so when Ellie Griffiths became Artistic Director and invited me to be Associate Artist, I readily said yes.

Like many aspects of my life, my evolving work in sensory performance now lets me sit astride two worlds. Depending on the context:

  • I am both enabled and disabled
  • I am both a migrant and a national
  • I am both a young people’s sensory maker and an experimental performance/live artist

Being in both worlds stops me getting too comfortable in my perspectives and helps me question mine and others’ assumptions. I also get to bring philosophies and practices from each context and let them influence one another. I intend to keep melding, percolating, pollinating worlds.

What did I do as an associate?

I began by working as dramaturg on Ellie’s first two productions as Artistic Director: ‘Jamboree’, and ‘All Wrapped Up’. This was a great way into sensory theatre for me. I brought experience and skills in ensemble performance-making to the company while also expanding my understanding of sensory theatre, and the barriers faced by audiences and collaborators alike. 

All Wrapped Up production image. Young audience members, joined by a performer, stick scraps of paper to strings of sellotape hanging overhead. The image is dark with purple tones.
Scene from All Wrapped Up

An associateship can give both company and individuals space to develop successful long-term working relationships. I was collaborating artist on ‘Something Love’, and commissioned to create a sound work for ‘When The World Turns’, with Oily Cart and Polyglot Theatre (Australia).

My final act as associate was to travel to BIBU for my first taste of the international sensory theatre scene. As an independent artist it is rare to be able to attend these symposia and festivals. Oily Cart’s invitation to join them at BIBU to meet and network with international colleagues was meaningful indeed.

Making my own sensory work

Oily Cart also encouraged me to seek funding to begin creating my own sensory work, providing mentoring, in kind studio and production support, and introductions to families and schools.

The Covid-19 pandemic derailed a lot of my plans but thanks to support from Oily Cart and my funders (Unlimited, Jerwood Arts, and Paul Hamlyn) and their belief that I had something unique to offer and would make a good sensory performance practitioner I was able to engage in hugely rewarding research and collaborative explorations with staff and students at Swiss Cottage School; Sam and Lucy Bowen; and Tim Spooner.

The idea was to use field recordings from home life with Sam and Lucy Bowen and some information discussed in interview to create tracks through a mix of collage and musical response. The process would be particularly attentive to Lucy’s musicality, considering possibilities for remote creative collaboration across time and distance, and without relying on linguistic communication (Lucy is non verbal).

Following an online interview exploring the role of music in Lucy and Sam’s life, I received recordings from Sam (Lucy’s mum) of Lucy playing and vocalising at home. I compiled and composed the resulting tracks as an attempt at remote, time-lagged, non-linguistic, creative collaboration.

This work was research and development (under the title Cradled, The White Noise Factory, and then Tilde), and as such there is no “finished product” (yet). I am letting the ideas percolate, relationships grow, and influence whatever comes next.

Tilde listening device. Two beings connected by an arm (or maybe it's one being with two bodies). Cream canvas, red stitching, a pink or red fabric-lined speaker embedded in each body. On Tilde's long arm are a series of bangles of different textures: soft and fluffy, hard and spiky, etc.
Tilde listening device
Tilde listening device being tested at Oily Cart headquarters. Two people are lying down using each part of Tilde as pillows.
Testing Tilde at Oily Cart HQ

What do I want to say about my time as Associate Artist

The main thing I want to emphasise is how much of a ripple effect my time as Associate has had. I have just finished a spell as artist in residence at Ashmount School in Loughborough with Attenborough Arts Centre. I would never have undertaken this residency before or have even known about it. Tim Spooner and I made a whole new sensory listening device which has already travelled with me to specialist schools and into family homes as part of remote and in person sensory sound collaborations. This was Tim’s first experience of making work for those who face the most barriers to access: our conversations about intended audience and the complex and intense nature of barriers to access have recurred in my work with other companies who don’t have experience in the sensory sector.

You can find some of Rhiannon’s Instagram posts from Bibu here:

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cdxf7RlIxAf/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CdxoJs4o7t0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cdx1gZvoix0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CdyM0n_o2GZ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Oily Cart’s Associate Artist programme champions and supports disabled artists to develop their sensory theatre practice and develop leadership skills to create a more representative sensory theatre making sector. Our 2022 Associate Artist will be announced soon.

Read more from our Associate Artists here.

Associate Artist Franki Ayres: The Shape of Me

Shadow of tree with bare branches falls on green grass. The shadows of two figures making shapes with their arms sit beneath the tree.

A sensory project about identity by Franki Ayres

As we prepare to announce Oily Cart’s new Associate Artist, we want to share and celebrate some of the incredible work of our former Associate Artists, that happened mostly behind closed doors throughout the pandemic.

Let us introduce you to Franki Ayres (our 2020-2021 Associate Artist), a brilliant multi-disciplinary artist whose work spans playful and relational inanimate objects, visual tactile art, sculpture and film. Franki loves working with objects, with bodies and with people, especially those who aren’t always listened to. His projects are often led by the young people he works with. We felt a natural synergy with the ways Franki works, so we invited him to come and play in a sensory way!

Hands with fingers splayed dip into a swirl of blue and white paint. A piece of sandstone sits in the paint in the space between the two hands where the tips of the thumbs meet.
Exploring Sensory Imagination – Paint
An upright green plastic straw at the bottom of an escalator. Green, red, yellow and turquoise plastic balls are scattered over the steps of the escalator.
Sensory Imagination – Straw

During his residency, Franki explored identity and visibility. He was interested in how sensory creativity could be used as an expressive outlet and support to young people who identify as both disabled and trans / gender diverse. Prevented from working directly with young people by the pandemic, Franki drew on his experience as a listener in youth work spaces and as a mentor with Gendered Intelligence to design a series of accessible, online sensory workshops for young people holding that dual identity (often amongst others). Franki was passionate about creating content that could be enjoyed even if the young people couldn’t leave their bedrooms because of barriers to their access.

“I wanted to have a space that was inclusive and accessible but optional, so you can participate without being physically in the space. The workshops are designed for Zoom with accompanying sensory packs for participants to use in the workshops or by themselves.’

Space to be seen. Space to be heard

The Shape of Me was about making safe, creative spaces where trans and gender diverse young people who also identify as disabled and/or neurodivergent can be seen, heard and validated.

“I naturally thought about sensation and shape…the shape of me and taking up space.”

Franki envisaged an expressive outlet for disabled, gender diverse young people that wasn’t medicalised, pathologised or dominated by talking therapies.

One way that Franki ensured that the trans/disabled young people felt comfortable and welcomed into the space, was to make sure that they could see themselves and their own identities reflected in the facilitators and all visual cues in the sessions. For example, videos included hands with varnished nails in the colours of the trans flag. These signals were never pointed out or made explicit. There were many layers of careful detail put in place to ensure that every participant felt welcome and seen.

Sensory Imagination

Many people in the trans community have chronic pain and chronic fatigue. Franki wanted to acknowledge this by beginning each of his sessions with a body scan or creative meditation, which he often uses himself to manage pain and listen deeply to his body.

“Until I started [this project] I hadn’t realised how ableist the language around meditation is…It’s all body normative, two hands, two legs (when you are doing a body scan for example). And being alert means to ‘sit up.’ So along with changing my language and making it universal, there’s room…to reaffirm there is no right or wrong way. Going at your own pace and making your own settled, sensory landscape where you feel safe, comfortable and supported. That could mean bringing your pet, a favourite drink, or food or scent or texture into your space.

Franki named this beginning visualisation a ‘Sensory Imagination’, which were pre-recorded videos (to leave space for rest for the facilitator, as a way of building access into the workshop structure.) In the Sensory Imagination everything’s suggested, not dictated. You can lie, sit, move around; you can listen, opt in or out or simply watch the video.

Sensory Making

Franki took great time and care in choosing and experimenting with using different tactile materials to make sure there were multiple entry points into creating, regardless of barriers to access. After initially playing with light and shadows to create new body shapes, he then introduced the use of trans flag coloured ‘squish’ (soft, malleable material) and wire as a way of “drawing by feeling.”

A green-tinted image of a smiling man in a dark jacket open over a bare chest. His shape makes a distinct dark shadow against a green background.
Franki in shadow clothes

In each workshop the young people use a different material to create a visual/tactile representation of the different dimensions of their identity. Sensory theatre techniques then reveal the many dimensions of the mini sculptures, and the participants end with their own unique shape. “Me/the shape I am.”

What next? 

The Shape of Me represented the first step of a longer-term project Franki envisions, named ‘Gender Journeys’ which he hopes can open up more creative and inclusive ways of supporting trans / gender diverse young people, giving them tools to be with their own bodies on their terms, and to express themselves in a process that can too often be dominated by medical professionals. He hopes this will in turn give them greater agency in the process of their transitions, or coming back to themselves.

Franki has partnered with Gendered Intelligence to deliver these workshops and is on the look-out for more accomplices and partners to continue the work he has been developing to be able to reach as many young people as possible.

During Franki’s residency, we were struck by the depth, care and detail that Franki went into the creation of this safe space. It is only when people feel safe that you can expect them to feel comfortable enough to play, explore and create. He is clearly at the tip of the iceberg in terms of the potential of this work, as he hinted,

“I would like to find a way to have an exhibition or an installation where young people could, if they wanted to, share and learn about their identities.”

Franki’s residency opened up a new application of Oily Cart’s sensory theatre practice. We were delighted to see how our sensory approach has potential to break down barriers for young people who clearly deserve more support and creative nourishment than is currently available to them. We are privileged to have been a small part of Franki’s own journey in developing his ideas.

Franki’s has contributed to a Harper Collins anthology of 12 stories around mental health entitled Will You Read This, Please?  to be published in 2023.

Read about Franki’s collaboration with Oily Cart on Something Love

Contact Franki to find out more about his work or enquire about collaborations at franki.a.ayres@gmail.com

Follow Franki on Instagram

Oily Cart’s Associate Artist programme champions and supports disabled artists to develop their sensory theatre practice and develop leadership skills to create a more representative sensory theatre making sector. Our 2022 Associate Artist will be announced soon.

Read more from our Associate Artists here.

Work Experience Student Kian: Away With the Trolls for a Weekend

A performer playing the part of a scary troll bares his teeth and snarls at a young man. The young man's face is partly obscured by an enormous red fabric feather. He looks up at the troll in troll in mock alarm. He wears a white t-shirt with the words Oily Cart written across the front in black. The troll wears a red and blue striped waistcoat with a pale khaki coloured colour and matching hat decorated with leaves. Behind the young man, a purple fabric bird looks on behind the young man.

Our work experience student Kian didn’t know what he was letting himself in for when he signed up for a week at Oily Cart.

To call this week of work experience unconventional would be putting it lightly. As friends tell of their taxing, painstaking days, agonising over accounting details or sifting through old case documents, I have been chased by trolls, built caves out of tents and waved maracas while wearing a hat that would rival that of the royal family. Needless to say it’s been an eventful time.

Never had questions of smell or feel of props ever occurred to me…they became just as vital to immersing the audience as sights and sounds

As a year 12 student planning to study acting, being thrown headfirst into the world of sensory theatre the past few days have provided an enlightening insight into a lesser explored area of performance, and the unique difficulties and opportunities that come with it. Drafted in to support performances of The Cart for the Wandsworth Fringe gave me a whole new perspective on theatre.

Take prop design for example. Sensory theatre, after all, focuses on appealing to senses and props are one crucial way of doing this. Never had questions of the smell or feel of props ever occurred to me, though here, because of the audience’s close handling of them, smell and feel suddenly become as vital to immersing the audience as sights and sounds.

Never before have I seen an audience so utterly captivated by a performance

Equally, the unique acting style shown off by the performers, requiring close contact with the audience, though at first quite unfamiliar, makes every performance that bit different from the last, providing near-constant learning opportunities. The sheer energy that the actors were able to retain right through to the end of the show is a testament to the importance of the age-old lesson of putting yourself out there, or, as one of my colleagues put it, “it doesn’t matter whether you crash and burn, you’ve just got to go for it”. And indeed, that is exactly what they did (the second bit – not the crashing and burning bit) and as they sang and danced their way around the stage, it was a struggle not to get up and join in at times, with this contagious atmosphere not loosening its grip until long after the performance ended.

Truly the performances did not end with the final line, but only once all the audience had walked out the gate. The children continued to talk and play with the actors for some time after the show had finished – evidence that it had worked its magic. This was perhaps what surprised me the most: the involvement of the children. Never before have I seen an audience so utterly captivated by a performance, telling of the incredible power of theatre to reach a group often left excluded in the arts.

The experience has left me with a newfound appreciation of sensory theatre

I’ve had a great time, be that desperately trying to stop a tent from blowing away or flapping people’s arms up and down like wings, the sheer variety of stuff I’ve gotten up to has provided a wonderful few days, only made better by the warm, welcoming team. With them I’ve been rescued from falling off a chair mid-performance, had some illuminating discussions about the theatre industry (and the new ‘Elvis’ movie – not worth it), and have even been to Pret A Manger for the first time (also not worth it).

Regardless, the experience has left me with a newfound appreciation of sensory theatre, renewed enthusiasm for working in the industry and the jobs opportunities available, and songs that I shall have stuck in my head for the next couple of months. And for that, I am nothing but grateful.