Calling all StageSiders, welcome back to another article here at StageSideUK. This time around we are sharing a Syndicated Q&A hosted with a range of artists at the Rude Health Festival. We hear from directors, artistic directors and all kind of creatives, regarding their experience being a part of the Rude Health Festival. Settle in and lets learn more about Rude Health Festival.

What does it mean to you to be part of Rude Health Festival 2025 and present your work in Cambois?
The festival explores many different ideas, from health and community to identity, care, and creativity. Which of these themes feel most connected to your work, and why?
Can you tell us about how the idea for your performance first developed?
How has working with The Tute and the wider Rude Health Festival team supported or shaped this project?
What do you hope audiences in Cambois, and beyond, will take away from experiencing your work?

ESTHER HUSS

Alex and I moved to Cambois in 2019. Before that, I had spent over 20 years in London working as a freelance performer and as the founder of the Inclusive Dance Company, Dandelion Collective. Relocating to the North East marked a major life change—and sparked a significant creative shift. I stepped away from the constant hustle of teaching to make ends meet, and instead immersed myself in the landscape and rural life. The contrast of heavy industry and natural beauty here, along with the resilience and warmth of the local community, laid a fresh foundation for my work.

One of the things that struck me immediately was the collaborative spirit in the North East. I quickly began working with visual artists and sound artists, and those interdisciplinary collaborations have since become a vital part of my creative process.

After years in London, I often questioned whether the world needed yet another dance/ performance piece—there was simply so much of everything. But in Cambois, the context is different. There’s a clarity of purpose here. I feel a strong sense of mission: to share my skills and experience, to listen, to learn, and to create work that truly resonates. Performing at The Tute—often to an audience that includes both local residents and curious visitors from further afield—feels meaningful in a way that’s hard to describe.

When Alex and I first dreamed up the idea for Rude Health Festival, I was genuinely excited to curate a programme of artists and performances that embody integrity, sincerity, rigour, and risk. Over the past six years, it has been a joy to bring experimental, avant-garde work into this community. This is not an audience saturated with cultural events—they’re cautious at times, but curious. Building trust has taken time, but that journey has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my work here.

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These issues matter deeply to me, which is why we ensured they’re woven into the heart of the festival. Cambois is an ex-coal mining community, and with no new industry to replace what was lost, questions around identity and belonging remain vital and unresolved. There’s a lingering sense of displacement. I often see young people wandering the streets with little to do and few influences beyond school and home. Many residents struggle to access meaningful work or feel disconnected—living on the fringes of society.

But I believe these individuals can be reached—through care, through dialogue, and through art. Often, they are the ones most open, most curious, and most willing to engage when given the chance.

My recent work HIPS&SKINS, created in collaboration with Jacky Lansley, explored care and the treatment of women in the healthcare system. Even a year later, people still approach me to quote lines from that piece—proof of how deeply it resonated, and how powerful these shared experiences can be.

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The idea for the festival grew from a desire to create a programme that speaks to everyone in our community. Health is a universal thread—it connects us all, across every generation—yet each age group faces its own unique challenges. Young children are navigating the pressures of social media and the anxiety it can bring. Older people may struggle with loneliness, a loss of purpose, or feeling disconnected from the community. Parents are often overwhelmed, simply trying to keep things going. And many are quietly coping with physical or mental health issues—right here, on our doorstep.

Bringing people together in one space to experience thoughtful, moving, and challenging work has the power to shift perspectives—and even change lives.

It feels genuinely exciting to bring world-class art to a small, often overlooked place like Cambois. It feels radical. And it feels necessary.

At The Tute we hugely care to make everyone feel valued and conscious of the contribution they make to the festival, the community and their own lives. Beyond the tasks that need to be done, there is a great amount of dialogue happening, getting to know each other, supporting and inspiring each other. We were recently joined by a 12 year old teenager, who supported the front of house. She had been expelled several times from school, and after the first event said that this was the longest she had ever sat still. She was mesmerised by the event. This I believe is one of many testimonials from those involved.

Performances and workshops offer a powerful opportunity to bring people together in a shared space. In the lead-up to the festival, we spend time reaching out to those we meet—inviting them in, making them feel seen, heard, and welcome. Our aim is to dismantle the idea that contemporary art is distant or inaccessible. We want people to know they have a place here, should they choose to take it.

More than anything, we want attendees to feel safe, welcomed, and open to engaging with the work—to be surprised, inspired, and moved by the artists and their own experiences in the workshops. To discover joy in the variety of the programme.

Cambois can sometimes feel isolated, with limited transport, no shops, post office, or café. That’s why it matters so much to us that people feel this festival brings the world to their doorstep. That they feel the value of access to culture, connection, and creativity—and the richness that comes from sharing space with others.

LIZ AGGISS

In the 1980’s I started my performing life in alternative theatre and cabaret spaces, performing to unsuspecting diverse audiences, from tiny scratchy venues, to rowdy pubs and clubs supporting unknown punk bands, to unwieldy stadium gigs supporting The Stranglers. As my work matured, I graduated to posher more prescriptive theatre spaces. But I never lost my delight in working the alternative spaces. So I was thrilled to be invited to The Tute. It’s also come at a most fortuitous moment. It’s given me a good reason to get back on the horse. Crone Alone had been festering in my mind before Covid struck in 2019 leaving me workless and rudderless. During this fertile void the early research for this show focused on female hysteria, but as the Covid fallout continued to upend life as we knew it, and my hip announced it was worn out and needed replacing, I had plenty of time, several years, to ponder as I repaired. In reflecting over the past 50 years as an artist&academic, engaging in a dizzying array of roles, I realized I was barking up the wrong tree. I needed to get back to basics. What am I doing? Why am I doing it? How do I want to do it? And above all I needed less palaver, more simplification, and a different approach. I wanted to talk about value and worth. So that’s what I’ve gone and done. To be honest I’ve missed being out there. Doing it. Being a contributor to an artistic community. I’ve missed the delight in sharing, communicating and reveling in performance. I’ve missed unpicking the creative journey. I’ve missed grappling with ideas. So I thank The Tute for shoving me back into the limelight and giving me the opportunity to connect with my former self in a different guise and bring this work to a new and equally unsuspecting audience. Full circle…or pirouette? Magic!

YUVEL SORIA

Being part of Rude Health Festival 2025 feels really special to me. The festival’s openness and curiosity resonate deeply with how I approach my practice — even though Ajayu Transitorio wasn’t created specifically for the festival, there’s a strong alignment in spirit. Presenting the piece in Cambois, a place shaped by its own rhythms, stories, and people, feels like an exchange between different worlds and energies. It’s exciting to share a work that carries memories, gestures, and rituals drawn from different cultures and traditions, with a cast of people who are British but also carry other heritages — other sets of cultures and traditions alongside the British ones — and to see how these layers might connect with the people and landscape here in the North East.

For me, Ajayu Transitorio connects most deeply with identity, care, and community. The piece is inspired by the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) tradition in Bolivia and by different death rituals across cultures — ways of honouring those who have passed and keeping their presence alive. Through this work, I’m exploring how remembrance and ritual can become acts of care, and how collective spaces of reflection can nurture a sense of belonging. I want to create a space where people can feel, breathe, and reflect together — a shared moment of grounding, presence, and connection.

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