Made Of Light: Notes on preparation

Actors, Lania Hamilton and Flossie Adrian, discuss preparing to perform ‘Made of Light’ (directed by Raffaella Sero and Keziah Prescod, written by Lania Hamilton) at Christ’s College Chapel. 

Lania Hamilton and Flossie Adrian, photo by Charlotte Conybeare

With a two-person cast, Made of Light is something intimately shared between both the writer and her single cast-mate. Lania and Flossie, here, offer notes and reflections on their journey with this unique production - from its beginnings as a daydream on a tour bus, to its upcoming week-long run at Christ’s College Chapel. Their reflections remind us of the intimacy of small casts, of theatre, and of creating art with people you love.

Lania Hamilton, 15th December:

Driving through Switzerland, sitting next to Keziah, I pull out a book that I had slipped into my bag from our last location. We are nearing the end of ETG’s European Theatre tour, and having spent two weeks together, I no longer need to use words to talk to them. They roll their eyes at me, smiling; I’ve been waiting to show them my new book all day, and they know it. It is a picture book of actors preparing for stage, and I turn each page in awe. Other actors sitting behind me are on their knees, reading the book over my shoulder and suddenly, we are all sharing something beautiful. I point out every photo that was taken in the dressing rooms of Riverside Studios with a childish glee - I grew up near here!

Kez smiles with their eyes and nods, after hearing it for the fiftieth time. It is my favourite thing about them; they are truly happy that you are happy. Their laughter is sweet and full, and I can’t help but smile at it. It takes me over an hour to go through the whole book. I have tears in my eyes when I am finished; I cross my arms around the book, swear to myself that I will perform at Riverside Studios, and fall asleep. When I wake up, I have an email from Riverside Studios, congratulating me on my play being programmed. I look up at Kez and they are smiling at me. Their smile tells me that I know I have chosen the right person to direct it. 

12th January:

At a party, I am dragging Flossie by the hand. I take them to a bathroom, and I shut the door behind me with a flourish before sitting cross-legged. I am drunk and they can tell, and they laugh. I speak incoherently, they reply easily, and delighted, I think - of course they understand me. Flossie and I have learned to read each other well; I know where they hold the tension in their body, their voice’s natural intonation, the way they walk and its correspondence to their mood. In a rehearsal, when I look at them with only my eyes, they nod in recognition and again, they lend me - and my play - a devoted sensitivity, a soft intimacy, that is crucial to their character. So, at the party, when Flossie raises a hand to unlock the door, we smile at each other because they don’t mean it and we stay until we have to leave. 

8th February:

In a pub, a two-minute walk from Riverside Studios, I buy myself and Raff a drink to commemorate our fourteen-hour rehearsal. It is two days before our first performance. She grins at me before slapping the script against the table and sips her drink. We go through each line, one by one; she asks me what the lines mean, she forms symbols out of my words. I repeat lines back to her, three or four times, until she is happy. Our drinks are finished by the time we get to the end of the first movement. She scribbles, she draws boxes, she highlights. In the second movement, we say the same things at the same time and squeal in delight. Oh, I love you so much, Mel! I love you too, Raff! We do this after every line. We spend three hours at the table without noticing the time. Somewhere between the first and second movement, looking at Raff, my heart melts. I realise we are sifting through my life, and she is picking up each word with both hands and examining them, as if we are in my bedroom and they are my prized belongings. They are. She loves me so much, I think, she just loves what she does so much. With Raff, I write: ‘to love’, ‘to offer’, ‘to give’ next to almost every line. I learn it is what the play is about. We return the next day and continue for another three hours.  

Flossie Adrian, 12th November:

At first, I thought that playing my character Rebekah would be a cautious process. It felt very fragile, something that could smash if I stopped concentrating. The longer I sit with her, the longer I spend alongside her, the more I have realised that I don’t need to be afraid of her. She becomes fully rounded when she and I are reckless, daring, sometimes cruel. I let parts of her bleed into me, and parts of me bleed into her. She surprises me, even on stage, where every movement is planned out, every word memorised.  

29th November:

Our rehearsal room is a wonderful place. I would say that I wish everyone could experience it, but selfishly, I want to keep it for myself. Keziah and Raff are beautiful directors, complementary. To direct the same scene, Keziah spins an elaborate metaphor about a lava lamp. Raff runs from the room to retrieve a book from her bedroom, opens it, and points at a line that she has underlined in pencil. I understand them both perfectly, and the next time I read the scene, they are happy with me. I am sent home with Raff’s book in my bag to read, as homework. We waste hours of rehearsal gossiping, collapsing into laughter in the middle of serious scenes. What could have been a heavy, taxing rehearsal process has been full of joy, of laughter, full of light.  

11th February: 

I have said many times over, from when I first read the script, to when I first performed it for an audience, through tears: Made of Light is something very special. Mel’s true achievement, I think, is that the play is a very intimate window into herself and the play’s characters, and at the same time universally touching. Her writing brings me back to parts of myself that I had forgotten. It is painful and it is difficult and it is brilliant. I have seen something very beautiful in the way our London audiences received the show. Made of Light captures the very heart of my favourite thing about theatre: that we are always looking for company. For confirmation that our feelings, our grief, our love, our loss, are not unique. After having found this comfort in creating the play, it is fulfilling and moving to know that others do too.

Lania Hamilton, 24th February:

There is much of the play I have ripped from the notebook I keep between my drawers. In rehearsals, I laugh, rush, dance around, trip up on, sing through my lines, somewhere between awkward and self-conscious. Raff, Kez and Flossie watch me carefully through the veneer of performance, and gently hand me the lines back with utmost care. With my directors and actor, with my friends, I have offered them something, and they have returned something brilliant. 

Made of Light will be performed at Christ’s College Chapel from 26 February - 29th February at 8.30pm.