This month I took part in The Herds, a site specific, climate-action puppetry piece which saw a herd of beautifully made animal puppets migrate from the Congo Basin, to the Arctic Circle as they flee climate change. At every stop the company recruited a group of participants from their host city to join the herd, and puppeteer some of the animals on their adventure. I was lucky enough to be part of the hundred strong puppetry team carving their way through Manchester City Centre, out to Rochdale, and onward to Pennington flash.

The journey our group took told a fascinating story, as the animals start amongst the chaos of the city centre during the launch of the Manchester International Festival, before escaping to the suburbs of Rochdale to cause some havoc, and finally finding a place to relax in the parks of Pennington Flash. City, to suburb, to nature. There's a lot of footage floating about online of our encounters with the musicians playing infront of the National Football Museeum that give an idea of the vibe of the whole event. Beautiful, terrifying chaos.

We had 3 intense days of training before our first show, learning the principles of puppetry and object manipulation; breathwork, focus, and intention, the same principles that go into effective traditional acting. I recieved a fair bit of positive feedback from the tutors and other participants, which was encouraging, but I was very aware of the challenge with which we were faced. We were dealing with puppets which could be bulky, heavy, cumbersome, and often worked by multiple people.

I was initially skeptical about how quickly we would be able to make that kind of group focus work, but once you let your imagination bloom and you realise that everyone operating the animal wants essentially the same thing, you quickly tune in to the needs of the character, and how best you can serve that intention. It's a very humbling way to perform. If you don't get out of the way of the animal you're not doing your job. I was opeating the back end of a wildebeest for the majority of the week, and I came to feel just as in tune with the thoughts of the animal as the head. It was a remarkably freeing feeling.

After Manchester the team headed on to Norway, where it began its final run of performances. I must say I was really sad to see them go. Puppetry has been a growing passion of mine, and getting to work with these world-class makers and performers has been a snapshot of a dream-come-true. Since this event I've applied for several exciting puppetry oppertunities and have started making my own at home. Whether or not I hear back from any of them is almost irrelevant. There are more creative doors open to me now, both professionally and personally. That's really all I can ask for.

Climte action

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My personal engagement with the climate crisis has been minimal, as it is for most people. I do all the things people say you should do. I recycle, I take public transport, I've cut down my meat consumption to practically zero (not 100% veggie yet, closer to 80%), and if I really examine my day-to-day life I have a pretty small carbon footprint. A lot of that is just the benefits of circumstance. My job doesnt currently require me to have a car, our flat is pretty well insulated so we dont spend loads on heating, and our food waste is minimal because my partner is a fucking incredible cook etc. But as anyone who reads about this stuff will tell you, the difference these choices make is pretty small. And I DO read about this stuff. Maybe too much.

Climate anxiety is VERY real for me. It makes me question the merits of a lot of the choices that come with growing older. My partner and I are discussing if kids might be in our future, and looking at the potential difficulties the next few decades of climate collapse might bring makes me hesitant to inflict that on an unwilling young person. On a personal note, I love nature. I'm at my happiest when I'm out in the countryside, or even just in a decent park, where I can breathe the fresh air and see animals going about their day. It's my most potent source of inspiration as an artist and of happiness as a person.

But, like many, I feel pretty powerless. Climate collapse is not a theoretical future, it is NOW. Just a couple of weeks ago I was reading about the threat to the gulf stream posed by massive amounts of cold water rushing in from polar ice caps melting. I remember reading about that and the disaster it would cause when I was a kid, and here I am now forecasted to experience it. I can hoard bags-for-life until I'm blue in the face, it's not going to change the fact that millions will die from climate change in the forseeable future, that species I love will go extinct, that places I've been may sink beneath the water within my lifetime.

So, what can I do? Go back to university and train to be a climate scientist? I could but, perhaps selfishly, I don't want to. I know where my skills lie, where my passions lie. I do THIS. I'm a performer. There are many driving forces behind this disaster (one of which is discussed beautifully in this video by Hank Green) but one of them is the governments we have elected to run the capitalism we've built our societies on. Our collective action is our biggest muscle, our vote is our loudest voice, and those in power know that. That's why they spend ungodly amounts of money to convince you that everything wrong is down to immigrants or trans people or, in the case of the environment, that the problem doesn't even exist.

I took part in The Herds partly because I wanted to learn about puppets but mainly because I believe in their message. When I saw Figures in Extinction by Complicité I was brought to tears. I knew I was watching a momorial to those we've lost along the way. The Herds gave me an oppertunity to connect, both with the natural world that is in so much danger, and with the communities who have a chance to do something about it. Ever since those performances I can bring up The Herds and see a moment of recognition in the eyes of people who saw it. They tell me how incredible it was. For some it was a nice day out with the kids, for others it was a profoundly disturbing experience. Those animals shouldn't be running through our streets. They were scared and hungry and desperate. That connection, that realisation in the hearts of audiences is the point. If it causes one more changed mind, then thats one more than yesterday.

I'm going to continue my work. That's not up for negotiation. And my work won't singlehandedly change the world, but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing. What I CAN do is make choices that align with the philosophy that I care about. My work will always have a connection to the world around us because it's such a part of who I am. I will campaign for environmental policy to be brought to the contre of conversation because thats where it lives in my mind. I'll keep reading those fucking articles that keep me awake at night because they deserve it. The people who wrote those articles deserve our attention, the people who will be effected by the topics of those articles deserve our attention.

Some messages don't deserve our attention. You know who they are.