RAT LAB LIVE 2026: the artists respond

Last month, we held our very first RAT LAB LIVE in the beautiful Roof Studio at Siobhan Davies Studios. This is to become our annual sharing event celebrating the end of the tenure of the artists completing our RAT LAB professional development programme - and we couldn't have had a warmer start to this new tradition.

Those of you who attended will remember that we gave the opportunity for audience members to write questions for the artists when they left - so we're dedicating this post to sharing a little about each piece, what the event meant to the artist, and their answers to a few of the questions.

Lisa Harbron

First up, we had Lisa, a multidisciplinary artist who expresses herself through acting, theatre-making, poetry, photography, film and general foolery. As a neurosparkly complex trauma survivor, she uses art for activism and self-empowerment; as tools for reclaiming the narrative. She delights in finding humour in the darkest of places, to speak the unspeakable.

Lisa has been exploring ways to hold creative space when faced with challenging circumstances, and shared a few scenes depicting one of her characters, the Sickness Guru: a "sickfluencer" trying to teach people how to live with chronic illness, without knowing how to look after herself.

What did you bring to the sharing, and what did you get from the feedback?

I brought to the sharing my resilience, perseverance and courage; challenging my perfectionism to share my work despite challenging personal circumstances.

From the feedback, I am taking away the possibilities for directions my work could go in and encouragement to keep going with it.

AUDIENCE QUESTION: You mentioned wanting change makers as an audience, what is the change you want to see?

I want to see systemic change with a system that works for the many, and not the few. A system that responds to mental health struggles and chronic illness in a timely manner, without postcode lotteries to access services. I want people to be treated as an individual and offered holistic care, from a system that understands the impact of socioeconomic factors on crises. 

I want to see a government that prioritises funding vital services instead of casting public doubt over whether disabilities are real and people are deserving of welfare or not. I want to see an end to medical gaslighting that stops people (especially women and people with marginalised identities) from getting the correct diagnosis and treatment. It shouldn’t have to be an exhausting, all-consuming battle to first of all, be believed and then supported. I want to see a world where people are less burnt out.

Alain English

Next up was Alain: a poet, actor and autism trainer. He presented samples from his trilogy of theatre-poetry texts, West Neuk/Glenside/Archaeon.

Each poem has interlinked stories with themes of bullying, toxic masculinity, consanguinity and the corruption that goes to the core of modern life.

It is about the trauma that both connects and affects all of us in one way or the other, and that nothing exists in isolation. The poems are deeply personal and yet have resonance with society as a whole. They relate to things that people talk about, but also what they are afraid to talk about.

What did you bring to the sharing, and what did you get from the feedback?

I brought all the energy and talent that I could to bear on this project and the feedback seemed to show it was worth it. Given the energy and labour that went into these poems, people's positive response to them was very gratifying. 

AUDIENCE QUESTION: Where do you see these poems going?

I am looking to develop a multi-media performance around the trilogy - perhaps having one poem as an audio piece, another as a piece of theatre and another as a movie. I am also going to talk to my publisher about getting all the poems in print. 

Sahar Beg

Then came Sahar: a psychotherapist and clinical supervisor who often uses creative arts and theatre in her therapy work. As a writer and theatre-maker, her approach brings together storytelling, trauma healing, and faith.

She shared excerpts from her movement-based drama, The Embodied Witness - which explores the impact of spiritual abuse and how trauma is carried in the body, revealing the ways we adapt, protect, disconnect, and survive. The piece creates space to witness these patterns, release what no longer serves us, and reconnect with truth, safety, and self.

What did you bring to the sharing, and what did you get from the feedback?

This sharing piece was so important to me personally. It gave me the opportunity to showcase a part of myself, my work, and my experiences over the years as a therapist, as well as my own lived experiences.

For me, it was important to showcase this through the body. It was the only way I felt I could translate my voice and words into movement. This is something we don’t often see, even though there is so much literature about spiritual abuse and abuse in all its forms.

I was blown away by the feedback that was shared. It showed me even more how important this piece is to put “out there.” People need to see this now more than ever. I feel scared but excited at the same time.

AUDIENCE QUESTION: How did working with masks affect the rehearsal/development of the piece. Did you see something different from using masks in your therapeutic work?

Working with masks gave me another way of exploring the idea of the embodied witness, particularly the relationship between what we see, what we don't see and what the body can communicate.

Once the face was covered, I became much more aware of the other ways the body communicates through gesture, posture, movement, stillness, rhythm and the way we relate to the space around us. Interestingly, not seeing the face seemed to make the rest of the body more noticeable.

This became important in developing the piece because the mask created a kind of distance between the person and what they were presenting. It made me think about how we don't always need something to be spoken or made completely visible for it to be witnessed. Sometimes things that are hidden or held back can still be communicated through the body.

I also noticed a connection with my therapeutic work. I have used similar ideas and techniques in therapy and in groups, and working on The Embodied Witness made me think more about the similarities between the two practices. In both, a mask can create some distance from ourselves. This can make it easier to explore something indirectly, or to try out a different way of being or expressing something without having to say, “This is me.”

For me,  I experienced the mask differently in the two settings. In my creative work, the mask became a way of exploring ideas and creating material for the piece. I could play with what it meant to be seen or not seen, and with the relationship between the performer and the person witnessing them.

In therapeutic work, the focus is different. The mask can create a sense of safety or distance that allows someone to explore something that might otherwise feel difficult to approach. The focus is much more on the person's own experience and what the mask allows them to discover or express.

What connects the two for me is the idea that the embodied witness isn't simply someone who watches another person. Witnessing is also something we experience through our own bodies. When someone is being witnessed, they are affected by being seen, but the person witnessing them is also affected by what they see and experience.

The mask made this particularly clear because it changed the usual way we understand someone through their face. It made me pay more attention to the body and to the relationship between the person being witnessed and the person doing the witnessing.

Working across creative and therapeutic practice has made me more aware that the same techniques can have very different purposes depending on the context. In both, I am interested in what can happen when we move away from only talking or thinking about an experience and allow the body to be part of the process. For me, that is an important part of what the embodied witness means, using the body not just to experience something, but also to notice, understand and make meaning from that experience.

Claire Reay

Last but not least, was Claire: a multi- and inter-disciplinary artist whose practice is hard to pin down. She is an observer and a collector of the eclectic. Be that hobbies, facts, textures or experiences; her curiosity guides all that she does. As an activist, she wants to call people in rather than out, and she believes strongly in the power of community to bring about change.

She shared some initial reflections from the participatory project Commonalities that she has been exploring this year. The project uses multiple artistic practices to find out what happens when we push back against the pervading narrative of who we can be in community with, and challenge ourselves to build tables not walls.

What did you bring to the sharing, and what did you get from the feedback?

What I brought to the sharing was probably more vulnerability than I have shown in public for many years - while it's probably safe to assume that the audience understood the remit of the programme, performing in a way that doesn't scream "traditional theatre" still felt like a risk.

The feedback I received gave me reassurance that there is interest in the themes I want to explore further, and that others see the value in challenging our prejudices.

AUDIENCE QUESTION: Do you think it's easier to have conversations with people we disagree with when we're being an ally, rather than when the other person's opinions threaten our own identity?

This is such a fascinating question, and it really made me pause to consider the idea of allyship and identity, and where we are able to draw lines in these conversations.

When I first considered this project, it was very focused on looking at people as complex packages of views and beliefs - not placing people in "good" and "bad" categories based on how we differ in our views on things that are important to us.

These conversations are definitely less loaded if you are taking a stance on an issue that doesn't impact you directly, because we (okay, I mean I) can lose our ability to be objective when something touches our lives.

When I started to have these intentional conversations, I quickly realised that my position of speaking from the heart actually wasn't the best approach, and that replacing an emotional response with verifiable facts was a less charged way to proceed.

It is too easy, and too prevalent in our current political climate, to decide that your adversary is coming from a place of ignorance, and to attempt to educate them out of their position. Taking time to listen is imperative, as we often have no idea how someone has arrived at their position. The example of my racist neighbour sums this up really well. As horrified as I am by her views, it was only by allowing the conversation to continue that I understood that her own trauma had caused this stance. From there, we could look at prejudices against other groups where we were in agreement, opening the door for the idea that it's not wise or just to condemn a group on the actions of individuals.

For me, the important part is finding those tiny cracks that let the light in, and leaving them open in a respectful way.

WHAT NEXT?

We hope soon to share some sections of the sharing on our RAT LAB page, so do stay tuned. Meanwhile, we're getting there with choosing the next cohort, who will start their tenures in November.

You definitely haven't seen the last of Lisa, Alain, Sahar and Claire, though: we can't wait to see what's in store for them next, either.