There is the anticipation of coming to a new place every day, meeting a new audience each evening. Communicating with people who are not accustomed to the theatre. Acting for men and women who still consider it worthwhile bicycling or walking long distances to see a play. An audience packed into a little hall with uncomfortable benches. An aged stage and poor lighting.

We are the theatre group. We have eaten at a strange hotel, phoned home to children and spouses, made up at temporary dressing tables.

They are the public, who live their own lives down there in the darkness. Their breathing and their laughter and their stirrings are part of our experience of them. Now and then a chord is struck, we are one. The auditorium is still and the stage alive.