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As well as working in the arts, I am a scriptwriter, so it might surprise you to find out that I didn’t enjoy a live play, properly, until I was 24. Why not? Firstly, let me put your mind at rest – I wasn’t unlucky enough to see a string of ridiculously bad plays. I’m partially deaf, and even the prospect of going to the theatre used to fill me with dread.

My family were also deaf, and we used to sign, lipread and speak with one another. Perhaps because we communicated in a physical way, I always loved taking part in drama classes at school. I even acted in several school plays, with fond memories of being Knuckles in Bugsy Malone!
I could get through lessons and rehearsals without too many problems, but I’d always feel left out during visits to the theatre. I remember sitting through long productions of Hamlet and King Lear, a long way from the stage, struggling to catch even one line, spending the rest of the play bored out of my skin waiting for it to end so we could get on the coach home.
The worst experience I ever had was seeing A Midsummer Night’s Dream at our local theatre, which was so good that the audience were in hysterics. There’s nothing lonelier than sitting in a room full of people laughing, wishing you could hear what was so funny.
When I was 24, I moved to London and started working in the media. I also started going to the theatre more often, except now, I discovered new technology that helped me ‘read’ the play as I heard it. Captioning was a bit like subtitles on TV or foreign films, with every line of dialogue appearing simultaneously on a box placed on stage. The unit also described important sound effects, like a gunshot, a character’s accent, or atmospheric music.
Attending captioned plays meant I could really understand what the playwright was getting at – what each character was going through and how some lines cut like a knife through a scene. It was like opening my eyes to the true potential of a live performance. I didn’t feel left out any more - I felt like an equal member of the audience.
Soon after, I started working at Soho Theatre as their access officer, helping to organise not only captioned shows, but also BSL interpreted (for deaf sign language users) and audio described plays (for visually impaired people). What amazed me during that job was the range of people who came to captioned plays, telling me how the technology had changed their life.
There were people who’d lost their hearing in their 40s, and hadn’t seen a play for over a decade. They thought their passion for theatre was over – but captioning had given them a chance to come back again.
Then there were young deaf people, in their early twenties. Having been influenced by the plays they were watching, many were going on to take courses in scriptwriting, creating plays and films of their own. Captioning wasn’t just about being part of the audience, it was also about people beginning a new relationship with the arts.
I now work for STAGETEXT, the charity who introduced captioning to the UK ten years ago. My role involves developing captioned audiences, by setting up social groups across London that aims to bring deaf theatre-goers together, while the charity is also developing new technology that is making art galleries and museum talks accessible.
One in seven people has some level of hearing loss, so it’s great that the outlook for deaf people interested in the arts is very different to when I was a child. I’m just thankful that people like me no longer have to sit in an auditorium, frustrated, any more.
 

Charlie Swinbourne is Audience Engagement Officer at STAGETEXT.
http://www.stagetext.org