Rather than make a four-part series that simply observed the lives of young people with autism and highlighted what they can't do, we wanted to work actively with them to show what they can do. In particular, we wanted to see how involvement in an artistic process - in this case, putting on a show - might benefit them.
We immersed ourselves in the world of autism, meeting experts, therapists, charities, special schools and families - and quickly found it would be a challenge. Each individual is different, and has a range of different behaviours or traits. They might have rigid routines, respond badly to change and prefer being by themselves; they might have poor social skills, problems with communication, narrow interests or a lack of imagination. How on earth could we expect them to put on a show together?
We decided to recruit a small cast of nine young people, all facing different challenges on the autistic spectrum. We were searching for young people with limited experience of performance. They would have the help of professionals to devise their own show but everything would come from them.
We set up a steering committee to help inform the development of the series and its editorial aims. The committee would also have a watching brief for contributor welfare and health and safety. Then, after pitching to leading theatre companies, we found a collaborator in the shape of the Lyric Hammersmith, which has a tradition of working with young people from challenging backgrounds. But it had never tried anything like this before.
A drama therapist who had worked with young people with autism joined the team, along with chaperones for the cast. All the crew attended autism awareness training by the National Autistic Society - and, armed with a better understanding of the issues, the team began to worry about the scale of the challenge ahead of them.
All the while, we were casting - an especially difficult process in this case. We worked closely with the National Autistic Society on all correspondence before writing to relevant schools across the country. A labyrinthine series of school visits, recommendations from head teachers, correspondence with parents and long phone conversations followed - culminating in interviewing potential participants.
Usually when casting, you pick a selection and it gets whittled down with the team and the channel. In this case, we hired an educational psychologist, who played a crucial role in the process. She visited all the families and assessed their understanding, robustness, motivation and level of consent.
The latter was the most complicated issue. To what extent did the young people really understand what they were to undertake? The psychologist recommended those who had a broad to good understanding, and who she thought might benefit. We had detailed recommendations on how best to communicate and work with each child successfully, as well as a list of triggers that might distress them. For some, this might be loud music and bright lights; for others, it might be balloons. My cast shortlist was rapidly becoming shorter.
On the first day of filming there was a feeling of real excitement. The Lyric had a structured and well-established process for workshopping, devising and staging performances, and we had researched and planned for months, so we all felt well prepared.
It was the first time the cast and directors had met, and we assumed it would take time for things to get going - autistic people are supposed to be introverts, after all. But after 10 minutes the drama began. By lunchtime there was a romance. By late afternoon, some parents were seeing their kids do things they didn't know they were capable of, and all around us there was chaos. At the end of the day, the Lyric director asked: 'What am I to do with all of this material?'
Every day for the next three months of filming brought more of the same, along with surprises and developments in the young people's behaviour. Even on the final day - the day of the performance - we were unsure what might happen when the lights went down and the curtain rose.
