The Society for Renaissance Studies’ Art and Archives Roundtable in July 2025 brought together four scholars and artists, Anouska Lester, Rosie Poebright, Evelyn (Evey) Reidy, and Candace Scarborough, under the expert chairing of theatre historian Gina Walter. The session examined different perspectives on imaginatively interpreting historic records, and how creative practice, knowledge exchange, and public engagement can help us connect the past and the present. During the roundtable, the conversation quickly evolved from some of the specifics of the participants’ own creative and scholarly practices into a conversation about the state of the field, academic and artistic precarity, and the need for more robust institutional support for collaborative projects. One year on, Evey and Anouska have returned to Gina’s questions to reflect on how they are currently navigating the rewards and challenges of artistic and archival work. They share their experiences as early career scholars and practitioners pursuing creative collaborations at a moment when both cultural heritage and higher education institutions are threatened, and the Arts and Humanities have to justify their value in order to secure their future.

Why is it important to creatively engage with the past?

Evey: I think creatively engaging with the past is one way to combat a dangerous impulse in which history is claimed by one powerful and dominant group as a means of excluding others. I’m thinking of Candace’s current project specifically and how it challenges a belief (unfortunately held by many people) that the history of England is homogeneously white up until a certain point. Her work shedding light on the Black women in the Tudor court both illuminates this history and does it in a creative way that is accessible and intriguing to people of differing backgrounds. In my own practice as a playwright, I try to craft creative histories that tell the stories of people that the archive does not always privilege: women and girls, the laboring classes, LGBTQIA+ people, and mental illnesses are often at the center of my work. It’s always been disappointing to me that we can point to countless books, TV shows, movies, and plays that depict the lives of past monarchs and aristocrats, but finding a story about the average person is so much more difficult. Creatively responding to lesser-explored histories is one way we can be both inclusive and engaging

Anouska: And what’s really compelling about your work is that you definitively show that those people are represented in archival records: Rosie and Candace also demonstrate this so powerfully in their respective projects ‘It Ever Was’ and ‘we have always been’. Certain histories have been marginalised or overlooked or actively erased but the evidence does still exist. Often that evidence is partial or incomplete, particularly when examining the lives of people from communities that have been historically oppressed. Creative practice is one way of responding to those gaps in the archive with historically informed imagination. It also provides an avenue for telling alternative stories which liberate us from oppressive histories. Our practices don’t have to replicate archival violence and can instead offer hope and justice for the people of the past in ways that resonate with audiences today.

Evey: I also think creatively engaging with the past offers a new “in” for people who might not consider themselves a “history buff.” The study of history traditionally requires a great deal of reading, writing, and memorization that might not be accessible or appealing to a great number of people. I know I’m happy to sit in an archive with a magnifying glass and a 400-year-old piece of paper, but that’s not everyone’s cup of tea! But while someone might not be drawn to purchasing and reading a 500-page history book written by an academic (though those are necessary and important!), they might want to see a play, visit an art exhibit, watch a dance performance, or hear a piece of music. These ways of interacting with history are valid ways of engaging, too.

What are the challenges of creative approaches to history?

Anouska: From an academic perspective, interpreting the gaps in the historical record is a challenge. Ultimately, I see my research as creative: I have to think imaginatively across lots of different forms of evidence, and any findings are necessarily speculative. Theatre history is well-suited to this kind of research: performance is an inherently flexible and subjective medium, and one script can and has been interpreted in hundreds of different ways. If we accept that there’s no single historic “truth” to be unearthed, we can approach those histories more creatively. As Candace said in our roundtable, there is so much we don’t know but that doesn’t mean we can’t or shouldn’t tell certain histories: we can tell one version of a possible story.

Evey: But there is also a perception held by some in academic spheres that projects that embrace collaboration with creatives are intellectually unserious or not particularly rigorous, despite the fact that there is a healthy and growing body of literature about creative-critical methodologies and findings. This is unfortunate but not entirely surprising. I will say that I personally have not experienced anyone directly attempting to question or discredit my work or methods, but I’m always aware it’s a possibility. If someone were to approach me with doubts, I would hope we could have a fruitful conversation about the kind of scholarship that is historically valued in more traditional academic environments, why that might be the case, and where there is room for creative experimentation or disruption to those environments.

Anouska: In the roundtable Rosie shared how their practice incorporates different ways of knowing. We discussed supposed hierarchies of knowledge: that, as Evey says, academic approaches to archival records are seen as the most valid, rigorous, and therefore somehow superior to any other approaches. We all had felt the challenges of being a scholar-artist-practitioner: and the feeling that not every aspect of your professional identity is welcome in every situation. You have to mould yourself to try to meet certain expectations. We talked about “inhabiting the hyphenated zone” which can be productive and freeing as well as challenging.

How do you approach collaborating across disciplines and sectors?

Anouska: In academia there’s a risk of isolation: both the process of doing research and what happens to that research once you’ve put it in writing. Collaborations enable us to bring different meaning to the research, and to reach more people effectively. I’ve experienced this from multiple perspectives: as a researcher looking for people to collaborate with, and as someone who facilitates partnerships for others. I’ve found that working across different sectors it can take time to learn each other’s languages: what are your priorities, how do you approach different questions, even how much time do you have to dedicate to this alongside your other responsibilities. A really fundamental question to address as early as possible is: do you need to be paid for your time or is this project considered part of your “day job”? Everyone should be paid for their time. Historically, artists and performers are paid for their contributions whereas academics often are not. But with more and more researchers who are precariously employed, we should move to a different model which values the time and expertise of all contributors.

How can we support more creative responses to collections and histories?

Evey: Unfortunately, the most pressing need for these projects is funding. It’s important to acknowledge that we are living in an increasingly tenuous moment for the arts and humanities. Educational institutions are axing departments for budgetary or ideological reasons which are reflected in our culture at large (at least in the UK, where I did my PhD, and the US, where I am currently based). Working creatively requires collaboration, and we cannot perpetuate a system in which people give themselves to a project without also receiving the funds they need to live and eat. We need to advocate for the importance of the arts and humanities more broadly so that creative collaborations can continue and people can be paid a living wage to do it – creatives, archivists, librarians, heritage and museum professionals, scholars, and scholar-artists alike.

Anouska: Exactly, I’m really grateful for the funding I’ve received but often this only covers specific expenses. That means I’m giving my time for free.

Evey: I would also encourage anyone interested in either doing or supporting collaborative projects to think about how they can truly embrace working across disciplines or fields. I think it’s easy to call work “interdisciplinary” or “collaborative” without thinking too deeply about what that means. To me, it’s about sustaining connections with people from other backgrounds and sectors, cultivating trust in working partnerships, and committing to learning from each other. When partnering with artists especially, it requires an acknowledgment that they are the experts in their field, but the way that they express or utilise their expert knowledge might look different than what someone might be used to working within a university, library, or archive. It is important – and often very fun! – to embrace those differences in methodological approach and to use everyone in the room’s knowledge to create an approach that is unique to your specific project.

Anouska: With so many organisations facing challenges and changes it might feel more manageable to think small: what’s one intervention I can make that will enable this collection to be re-interpreted or open this research up to new audiences? If you can’t fund a month-long creative residency programme, can you fund a week or a day? If you can’t establish a collaboration that would result in a full-scale ambitious exhibition, can you work with an artist or scholar to create a video or a collections guide? Don’t underestimate how a small-scale collaboration can be mutually beneficial and might lead to something more in the future. Investing in a collaboration can start simply with a meaningful conversation and being curious about what someone needs to pursue their practice.

One year on:

Anouska: When I participated in this roundtable, I’d just emerged from a period of working five jobs while simultaneously trying to continue my research. That was unsustainable and had a severe impact on my health, but our ‘Art and Archives’ conversation reminded me why we would choose to pursue creative collaborations against the odds. I wish I could say that the situation has improved a year on, but my professional future (and present!) is still uncertain, and I know that’s not unusual. This time has enabled me to reflect on my priorities and motivations in a way that I wouldn’t have done if I’d had a stable job. I’m still determined to keep going and I have some exciting projects lined up with the National Theatre, Bodleian Library, and the Society of Antiquaries of London, so watch this space…

 Evey: I am left simultaneously hopeful and discouraged one year on from this roundtable. As an early career researcher and theatre artist, I’ve certainly been put through the wringer by both industries, as I’m sure many other early career people will unfortunately find relatable. However, it is also heartening to see major institutions who are or the validity of creative-critical projects and supporting those who do them. For example, I was an Artistic Research Fellow at the Folger Shakespeare Library in 2025-2026, and I was just one amongst a group of fabulous artists and scholar-artists who the Folger committed to financially, intellectually, and creatively supporting. I have faced many rejections, but I also have people interested in publishing my work and putting in good words for me when it counts. If you feel like you’re in a similar spot to me, all I can say is keep going, find your community and collaborators for both celebration and commiseration, and keep the faith that your work is valuable even when facing institutional obstacles.

Biographies

Anouska Lester is an Honorary Research Associate with the University of York and Programme Development Manager for the Society of Antiquaries of London. She was included in the Shakespeare Association of America’s Next Generation Plenary (“NextGenPlen”) in 2026. Her material culture research draws on practical experience in theatre and archives with the Ashmolean Museum, Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, Victoria and Albert Museum, and the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art.

Rosie Poebright is an associate research fellow at the University of Bristol and Director of Splash & Ripple, who designs playful events, embodied audio experiences, and long-term installed adventures. They have collaborated with the National Trust, English Heritage, National Museums Scotland, the Holburne Museum, and the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust.

Evelyn Reidy is a playwright and theatre historian. Her creative-critical PhD with the University of Roehampton and Shakespeare’s Globe focused on female and labouring class performers in non-commercial drama and festive performance-as-protest in the early modern period. For her research, she was included in the Shakespeare Association of America’s Next Generation Plenary (“NextGenPlen”) in 2025. She was a 2025/2026 Artistic Research Fellow with the Folger Shakespeare Library, and an excerpt of her play Very Small Trouble was recently performed at the American Shakespeare Center by the Mary Baldwin University MFA/MLitt cohort.

Candace Scarborough is a movement artist and historian pursuing a PhD at the University of Roehampton. Her research examines the experiences of marginalised groups in the early Tudor period, with a focus on African presence in England and women’s careers at the Tudor court. Her choreographic work has been presented at the Kennedy Center’s Millennium Stage, The Clarice, Dance Exchange, Joe’s Movement Emporium, Highways Performance Space, Baltimore Theater Project, Cinema du Cle, The Museum of the Order of St John and UCL.

Gina Walter is a Lecturer in Early Modern Literature and Culture at the University of Manchester. Her PhD thesis (2025) investigated the materialities of dying and grieving in Elizabethan and Jacobean drama through objects such as inherited clothing, winding sheets, and prop bodies. She has worked as a dramaturg and academic advisor with Shakespeare at the Tobacco Factory (The Place at the Bridge, 2021), and with Crowded Room theatre company as part of two collaborative, interdisciplinary research projects about the role of creativity in grief. With Anouska and Evey, she is a founding member of the Revels Office network for early career early modernists.

Anouska and Evey would like to thank Gina, Candace, and Rosie, and the Society of Renaissance Studies, especially the conference organisers, for facilitating the roundtable. Thanks to University of Bristol staff for hosting and for all those who attended the roundtable for their thoughts and questions. We’re also grateful to Pete Kirwan for his insightful feedback on a draft of this post.

Gallery

What connects our members’ collections? Here we put a spotlight on some of the curious themes that tie us together.