I love words.
I love them the way that girls in the 1960s screamed for the Beatles. I love them in the way that a child begs for sweets at the supermarket checkout. I love them to the level of every day’s most quiet need: by sun and candlelight.
I am lucky enough to have forged a career of words. Writing them, crafting them, performing them, deciphering them. And almost of us are in thrall to their power: be it judicially, emotionally, medically, psychologically, romantically… words matter. They can change our lives.
A simple ‘hello’ can raise someone’s spirits exponentially. ‘Goodbye’ carries countless different meanings: from a curt dismissal to an aching final farewell. The best words travel down the centuries, strengthening and transforming around each new generation. They can be weighty or frivolous: arcane and viral. Words scaffold all that we do: they find a common currency to explain our aches, our loves, our hopes, and dreams.
As seasoned festivallers, we all recognise the importance of words in everything we do. Whether trite, legal, or motivational: we are all responsible for engaging our collective linguistic registers to educate, inspire, and facilitate performance.
Think of the hours and hours our convenors have poured into refining the wording of their festival rules; the time that the BIFF staff team have spent creating document after document to keep everyone informed; the rehearsal infinity of choosing and analysing and working with texts.
In being ambassadors for the BIFF movement, we have all committed to choosing our words with care. Moving ahead, I would love to think that this already embedded understanding can move further towards the forefront of our practices. Being cognisant of the unique power we have to change a performer’s journey will help us to retain the highest standards of expectation set against the deepest levels of compassion in all that we do.
I am acutely aware that my closing words here will be woefully inadequate. To say ‘thank you’ to Debbie and Margaret for their leadership and steadfastness seems barely enough to do justice to the love and devotion they have shown to BIFF over the years.
Suffice it to say that the I believe the best token of appreciation we can offer is a pledge that we will - together - continue to uphold the philanthropic and educative rationale which has allowed the Federation to flourish for over a century. Individually, we boast a wealth of extraordinary talent and capability. But united, we are a truly exceptional body which exemplifies the kindness, prescience, and expertise which can lead us towards another hundred years.
In Coriolanus, Shakespeare writes “What is the city but the people?” It is a call put into the mouth of the tribune Sicinius Velletus, who sees that individuals - rather than buildings or grandiosity - are the beating heart of a community. We are incredibly lucky to have so many thousands of people across the globe prepared to be a part of our community: and my greatest hope is that every single person who has ever stepped on a stage, boiled a kettle, poured over a BOPA, or in any other way given time to the life of a Festival realises how valued their contributions are: and how very lost we would be without them.
Rebecca Vines
Chair of the Board of Trustees