What was your first encounter with the performing arts?

I remember trying to be physically sick as a very shy young child, to try to get sent home to avoid being chosen to perform in school plays. So trying to avoid the performing arts was my first encounter. It’s a technique I’m still trying to master.

When you were a kid, what life and career did you dream of?

I wanted to be a rockstar or a dog trainer. I used to like puppies and the idea of being very popular.

Fig. 1. Me wanting to be a rockstar with my puppy.
It’s now dead. As is my dream of being a rockstar.

When did you know that you wanted to work in the performing arts?

I’ve never known that I “wanted” to work in the performing arts. I’m not a complete wanker. As a youngster I knew I would be some kind of artist. It was the only thing I did. But then going to art school and then doing performance stuff put me right off the whole idea.

Fig. 2. Sadly this is what I looked like at Art School so it was already
in the stars that I was never going to be able to get a proper job.

Which performance kept you awake recently?

I have a re-occuring nightmare about going onstage without anything to do, having not prepared in the months leading up to the performance. I wake up in cold sweats… and then can’t sleep again… so although its a totally self-centred answer, I think the answer is: my own subconscious future performance keeps we awake at night.

“I remember trying to be physically sick as a very shy young child, to try to get sent home to avoid being chosen to perform in school plays. So trying to avoid the performing arts was my first encounter. It’s a technique I’m still trying to master.”

Which performance will you never forget?

I am actually scared I will start to forget Bacchae: Prelude to a Purge by Marlene Monteiro Freitas. It was just so incredible. I’d love to remember every detail of it. To bask in its wonderfulness again. But my memory isn’t what it was. I left the theatre and cried a bit. Not out of sadness. I bumped into my mate Al there. He looks like Joe Perry the Snooker player. It was also the night Switzerland played Scotland in the Euro 24. And I really wanted Scotland to loose. I had to keep checking the score during the performance on my iPad.

What do you never want to see on a stage again?

You gave us a choice of questions to answer. You told us we didn’t need to answer them all. But I notice other “performers” in this section have shy’d away from THIS particular question? Why? Do the other interviewees lack a back bone. or perhaps they don’t want to be seen to slag off their own. Wankers. TELL THE TRUTH. I never want to see another ‘question and answer’ session on stage at the end of the show. They should be banned. Anyone who takes part in one. Or anyone who ask questions is a c*** or anything by written or performed by B.K. or J.H or that wanker L.K. They know who they are.

How does your workspace or atelier look like?

Currently my art studio is located inside my tiny bedroom. In my mum’s flat. Sometimes i just work on the bed. When I’m editing I can hear her snore. She is about 15 centimetres away on the other side of a thin wall.

Fig. 3. Me in my art studio or as other people call it… a bedroom.

Do you have a ritual before you go on stage?

Feel sick. Maybe be actually sick. Hate myself a bit. Dream of a bomb scare in the area so the theatre has to shut down. Check the audience coming in. Pray that the technology works and that I wont look an idiot if it stops. Stand behind a fucken black curtain. ‘Number One Song In Heaven’ by the Sparks maybe playing in very loud.

Who have you learned the most from?

Jamie, James, Pheobe, Georgia, Dion, Graeme, Naila, Kelly, Sam, Sean Barry, LR, Lucy, Gavin, Jenny, Lee, Pol, Jan.

What is the most beautiful thing about your job as an artist?

I dont see it as a job. So its hard to answer this. But I’ve been lucky enough to stand in front of people (or write a book) and tell them my story and moan a bit. And even get paid to do it sometimes.

And the hardest part?

Getting death threats and having various break downs.

What are you like to work with?

I know you don’t think so but I’m actually okay to work with.

What does your ideal dressing room look like?

I hate having to steal wine and cables and tools from theatres, so just load that thing up with loads of cool shit that I can take home. And it’d be nice to actually have nice soft lighting for once and a bed in there (but not one with my mother on the other side of a wall).

“I don’t have a daily practice. I am NOT a wanker.”

Do you have a daily practice?

No. I am NOT a wanker.

How long before the premiere is your performance ‘finished’?

It’s never finished. Even after a premiere. But that makes me sound like a wanker.

Have you ever had a memorable encounter with an audience member?

Yes. Going home with audience members and sleeping on their couch or in their spare rooms sometimes led to memorable encounters. Or after certain shows having to take audiences members to a some southern fried chicken restaurant for dinner, on horse back… it would sometimes lead to awkward conversations.

Fig. 4. Me after a show in 2015 outside a chicken restaurant. This photo was taken by someone called Nick Collett I think. But who really cares who takes the photos.

Do you care about reviews?

Yes.

What is the last note you made?

Everyday I sketch something is see on the floor or ground (fuck! I do have a daily practice) and make a note of the date and place. Today… was this: a hole in the ground in Switzerland:

Fig. 5. My last note.

What question do you wish you’d been asked in an interview, but never were?

How will you cope when you soon become irrelevant?
When is your book coming out and where can I buy it?

Are your parents fans of your work?

Well… my dad never understood what I do. but I don’t understand it either. So that’s fair enough. I will ask my mum. She’s just next door.

(Kim goes to the next room. What follows is a transcription of that conversation.)

Kim: Mum, I’m writing answers for an interview for a Belgian magazine. One of the questions is: are your parents fans of your work? … Are you?
Kim’s Mum: Sorry? I don’t… what?

(She is lying down in bed and attempts to get up.)

Kim: You don’t need to get up. I’ve been asked: Are you a fan of my work? It’s for an article in Belgium?
Kim’s Mum: Erhm…well…..yes. I am a fan of you!!
Kim: That’s not the question mum. Do you like my work?
Kim Mum: Not when it includes me… No.
Kim: Ok thank you.

(Kim leaves his mums bedroom.)

Do you think theatre will survive in the future?

Nothing will survive the future. So I don’t know why theatre has a special right to survive once the apocalypse comes. And everyone will be dead anyway. So who will run the bar or operate the subtitles? Not me. I’ll be long gone.

 Tickets for Kim Noble’s upcoming shows in Les Halles are available here.