As part of the development of our site specific performance I set up an online survey to try and ascertain what people are waiting for, and what they think the grandstand is waiting for.  There were 28 responses to the first question “What are you waiting for?”, 28 responses to the second question “Have you ever visited Lincoln grandstand?” and 26 responses to the final question, “What do you think, if anything, the grandstand is waiting for?”  Now, not all of the answers that were collected were even remotely useful, for example one response to the first question was “for this survey to be over”, although this is an honest answer it’s not entirely useful to our creative process.

This idea behind doing this research is that we know that this specific room that we are working in within the grandstand has been used in a variety of waiting room settings and we, as a group, were interested in what people generally waited for outside of the grandstand setting.  We were interested in the idea that the passing of time while you wait for something to happen was more important than the actual event you are waiting for.  This is reflected through the fact that if you go into the space now you don’t have any indication of a majority of the events that happen or have happened there.  The grandstand, it seems, is waiting for something to happen to it and what happens now isn’t leaving a mark so time is just passing until something stands out and catches the attention of the public.

We are currently in the process of developing narratives that incorporate what we know about the space, how it has been used to wait, and add into those narratives the answers we have collected from the public.  Here is the narrative I created using the following things: the grandstand is currently used to host carpet boules for seniors; survey responses that a member of the public is waiting for a wedding and that the grandstand is waiting for some T.L.C.

You know your immediate future, you know that after Margaret has had her go it will be your turn again.  You also know that Margaret isn’t very good so you’re going to have time for a cup of tea.  You stand there, you glance around the room, you wonder why the bloody windows don’t open.  You think about how warm it will get here in the summer, how you’ll probably need one of those hand held fans.  You think about the wedding you’re looking forward to so much.  You think about how happy everybody will be.  You look around the room and you wonder how many happy moments it has left in it.  You think about this place, how all that it is waiting for is some T.L.C. and if somebody just did something it could thrive.  You think about how this place deserves so much more than carpet boules on a Wednesday afternoon.  And then it’s your turn again.