The National Theatre Wales makes its Irish debut with Cotton Fingers, written by award-winning writer Rachel Trezise and starring Northern Irish actor, Amy Molloy. This timely production, written during the referendum to repeal the 8th amendment in Ireland in 2018, tours to Belfast, Derry, Dublin and Bray this May and June.
Below, Rachel Trezise writes for Culture about the inspiration behind Cotton Fingers.
Late in 2017 Kully Thiarai, the Artistic Director at National Theatre Wales asked me if I’d be interested in writing a short monologue, a love letter to the NHS to celebrate the NHS’ 70th birthday in 2018.
I knew I wanted to do it but what, in particular, did I want to thank the NHS for? On the way home I was listening to Sinéad O’Connor and thinking about what a radical idea the NHS had been in the first place - free diagnosis and treatment for all, established by a Welsh man from my very own south Wales valleys. But now at almost seventy years old, was the NHS still revolutionary? Still progressive? I decided that it was. In the USA Trump was about to reverse abortion-related policy, banning funds to international health groups. In Ireland, abortion was still illegal. But, in all parts of the UK, except for Northern Ireland, a woman could get an abortion from the NHS free of cost.
Watch the trailer for Cotton Fingers, by Rachel Trezise
Over the subsequent days, the idea to look at abortion in my monologue set in. I did a quick Google to see what might be new in abortion care in the NHS, looking for some detail to focus on or spark further thought. What I found was news that abortion services in England, Scotland and Wales would become free for Northern Irish women to access in less than a month. This seemed like something worth noting. Despite its lack of funds, despite its downtrodden reputation, the NHS was still radical, still defiant, still stretching itself to do more. Then I had to go back to NTW with my idea. I thought abortion might not be the upbeat ‘love letter’ they were looking for but Kully was happy for me to focus on women’s rights. I would write the monologue from the perspective of a young Belfast woman seeking an abortion at the moment the procedure became free for Northern Irish females to access, in other parts of the UK, in an attempt to highlight what an important and life-changing job the NHS is still doing.
It isn’t a play about the NHS anymore, but a snapshot of life for young women in Northern Ireland in the midst of political upheaval, and a reminder that the women of Northern Ireland are still waiting for a change to their abortion rights.
I started the first draft in January 2018, the story of nineteen-year-old Aoife Murray, who travels from Belfast to Cardiff for the procedure and because the procedure only became free for Northern Irish women in January 2018 I was writing in real-time. I was getting towards the end of the first draft in March when the date for the repeal the 8th amendment in Ireland was announced. I knew if Aoife was a real person she’d be watching the proceedings very closely on her television in the North as I was in south Wales, unashamedly weeping at the sight of young Irish women and men travelling home from all over the world to cast their votes. I held off writing the ending until the result was in, in late May, so that the play hopefully managed to capture some of the essence of that hope and ultimate triumph. And I thought that by the time the play was staged in West Wales on the NHS’ birthday in July 2018, we’d be getting closer to abortion reform in Northern Ireland, and that the original concept of the play - free NHS abortions for the women of Northern Ireland but, only if they travelled to England, Scotland or Wales for the procedure, would already be becoming redundant. Then, of course, came Brexit, pushing women’s rights and virtually everything else off the table.
For this tour, I’ve updated the play to include the results and consequences of both of the referendums. It isn’t a play about the NHS anymore, but a snapshot of life for young women in Northern Ireland in the midst of political upheaval, and a reminder that the women of Northern Ireland are still waiting for a change to their abortion rights. I also mean it to be a tribute to all the difficult journeys made by Northern Irish women to the other parts of the UK for an abortion. And I should also mention here that the monologue isn’t just about politics and abortion. It’s about a young woman who comes of age and finds her voice despite all the obstacles she has to face. I’d like to think it’s quite funny too!
Cotton Fingers tours to The MAC, Belfast; Derry Playhouse, Samuel Beckett Theatre, Dublin and Mermaid Arts Centre, Bray from 22 May until 1 June 2019 - more details here.
