I’m standing with my back against a tree trunk in Dudhope Park, waiting for something to happen.
It’s a mild, bright Tuesday afternoon, perfect for a walk in the park. But I’m not here for a walk in the park. I’m here for a show – the aptly named Dud Hopes.
Unlike traditional theatre shows though, the audience is me alone, and the stage is the park itself.
Other than those two facts, I know very little about this project, created by Dundonian theatre maker Sharron Devine, the creative powerhouse behind Broughty Ferry indie outfit Studio Space Art.
I’ve never done any ‘immersive theatre’ before; the closest I’ve got is watching the episode of Gossip Girl where they walk through a multi-room performance of Macbeth in a mansion.
This is very much not that.
Headphones transport audience into story
I’ve turned up at the tennis courts as instructed, where Dundee-based artist and Dud Hopes collaborator Vlada Vazheyevskyy gave me a pair of posh headphones to wear.
Vlada told me to wait by this tree, so here I am waiting, when a soundscape, designed by Studio Space’s Ben Scappaticcio starts playing into my ears.
Children’s laughter startles me, layered with many voices.
Then Sharron herself appears, with her own headphones. She smiles in greeting, then gestures to the view as a narration begins.
I’m cast in the role of the friend she’s meeting again after a long time away.
Together with the narration, we take in the Tay, the road bridge, skaters on concrete and tiny old ladies walking tinier dogs.
Then Sharron begins walking and talking into a microphone, and we’re off, reminiscing.
Travelling back in time to 1980s Dundee
The story is Sharron’s own, of growing up in this very park. Together, we travel back through her memories, including her old houses, playing in the once-ruined Dudhope Castle, and making mischief at the old DRI.
We’re looking at the buildings as they are in 2024, but through the in-ear narration and aided by photos, Sharron takes me back in time to the 80s and early 90s – before I was born.
Sharron reveals that when she “ran away” from Dundee at 23 to become an actress, she did it from here. She thought she’d never be back.
I can almost see her, a young girl gritting her teeth against the unknown, barrelling towards the road bridge.
My only personal association with this park is coming here, sick and terrified, for drive-through Covid tests during the 2020 lockdown.
So it’s humbling to stand here in the park and consider its long history, and what it’s meant to so many Dundonians.
Interactive aspect kept me invested
And the show isn’t just immersive, transporting the single audience member through the memories of the performer – it’s interactive too.
We share tea. I thumb the pages of her photo album. She wraps her mother’s scarf around my neck. And we get fewer funny looks than I might’ve anticipated.
It’s a performance, but it’s also real. I might be anyone, but I feel looked after. I’m no theatre critic, but I suspect that’s part of the point.
Inside the headphones, multiple voices belonging to Dundee artists (including Springboard community musician Sorcha Pringle, Icebreaker Comedy‘s Luis Alçada and more) as well as pupils from St John’s High School discuss the concept of ‘home’.
The responses vary from warm and fuzzy associations with the word (“my mum”, “a place where I belong”) to the sombre, as immigrant Dundee residents consider the homes that were “ripped” from them.
Then Sharron turns to me, asking: “Where’s home for you?”
It’s not her first or only question throughout the performance, but it catches me off guard. I bumble, then blurt out: “Er, here?”
I’m not exactly sure where “here” is. This park? This city? The world? Wherever I happen to be standing?
It’s a big question for a sunny afternoon walk in the park. Thankfully, the story sweeps on again, and Sharron doesn’t press. We keep walking.
Performance is a literal walk in the park
She’s a compelling narrator and performer, and even in the face of very minor sound issues, she keeps the performance moving effortlessly.
The walk itself is a slow amble along the avenue of trees which runs parallel to Dudhope Terrace, down past Infirmary Brae and then out on to Barrack Road, ending on Garland Place, looking up at the old college building.
I’m glad of the sun, and my comfy shoes, but I reckon it would be just as atmospheric in the autumn chill if I was wrapped up.
The whole thing takes around 40 minutes, as we stop often to hear parts of the tale or converse, but in that time I feel I’ve peeked into dozens of lives over several decades.
At the end, Sharron thanks me for visiting with her, and turns on her heel. Off she goes, back into the park, into the past.
Then, after a few moments, Vlada returns, taking my headphones and wishing me well.
What did I think of Dud Hopes (Kryptonite)?
It’s an unusual way to experience theatre to say the least, and one that’s kept me thinking for days afterwards.
But in an age where so many people are plugged into their private little phone-worlds through their headphones and attention is more valuable than gold dust, it feels appropriate to share another person’s story one on one, in the setting where it took place.
And as I walk home, back through Dudhope Park, I look at it with fresh eyes. It really is a lovely park. More strange art here, please.
Dud Hopes (Kryptonite) by Studio Space Art is a free performance for ages 14+, running hourly in Dudhope Park from 11am-3pm, Sep 24-28 and October 1-5 2024.
Tickets can be booked online via Brown Paper or by emailing: contact@sharrondevine.com
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