It ended up being only three of us and the narrator, and even though during rehearsals I had expressed my wish of not taking any of the main roles, I ended up playing the inn keeper, the Roman soldier and Gabriel the angel.

I am normally happy to be part of any sort of miracle, but this one, again? And then rumours started arriving saying that the audience was mostly Muslim, that most of them didn´t speak English and that the age bracket spanned between five and seventy.

As I was putting on the silky wings for the last scene, I thought of all the dripping and vibrating, symbolic, interactive and intersectional non-fictional and performative pieces of post-conceptual stuff that I’ve witnessed over the last months in London’s theatres and art openings, and realised -petrified- how more adventurous it is sometimes to perform for the honesty of the ordinary than for the negligence of the cultivated.