7 Days to Go! Meet my Skin Tight – Movement Director

Trying Under-Reading

Name: Clare McKenna

Role within Company: Movement Director

Your Background?

I started off doing comedy Improv and Circus performance, combining them and then coming to London to study for 2 years with Philippe Gaulier. I began creating and performing physically comic shows and then took a U-turn to the classics and naturalism, both as a movement director and actor.

How did you get involved with Skin Tight?

I met Jemma at GRAFT which happened at The Pleasance Theatre. I loved her energy and charisma and we stayed in touch. I think we also met before that at stage combat classes, as with Angie… it’s one of those “did we?” “Think we did” “Oh my God” Yep that happened, we were defo in the same room…but can’t remember!” And all sober!

Favourite memory of rehearsals/show/tour from last year?

Sitting in the attic room of an empty industrial work place. We were going through the movement pieces before doing a rough run through. Just the four of us in an empty room with no real atmosphere… and I cried like a baby! I’ve never cried like that in a rehearsal. I’ve felt the potential for a show to make me cry, with lights etc… but not like that. Nor since. I had to give notes crying.

What are you up to at the moment?

I’m creating a project that will collect stories of a specific time during the emigration journey from the Irish. The aim is to collect and create a theatre show and film. I recently facilitated a group Irish of Irish emigrants and first generation Irish. The result was an insightful, heart wrenching and funny a book of short stories. Very humbling to me. I’m also heading over to Northern Ireland to begin rehearsals for a darkly comic and visual show which will be showing at The Assembly Rooms in this years Edinburgh Fringe Festival – almost like going back to my roots.

Tom and Elizabeth share a lot of their own memories in the play what’s your favourite childhood memory?

Playing on the streets in Dublin. Making swings on lamp posts, playing skipping with about 50 kids in the middle of the road, climbing out the bed room window and skimming the walls to play some more. The banter. On the flip side, playing in the hills of Monaghan. Making dinner out of cow dung, daring each other to enter the Fairy rings, sitting in the muck eating parsley and other veg, straight out of the ground and off the bushes. Then spending a few hours playing in the old house that was left exactly as it was, when the old man died. Trying on his hat, reading his books, looking at his pictures, sitting on his bed…



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