Dave Jarman's state of the nation address in poems, songs and stories

After all, the Easingwold-born poet, musician and storyteller walked the Coast to Coast walk, from St Bede’s in Cumbria to Robin Hood’s Bay on the North Yorkshire coast, to provide material for his new show, Made Of Nowhere.

At short notice, tonight’s premiere performance can no longer go ahead at The Hovel, the upstairs home to Jonny Hooker and Dave Greenbrown’s Young Thugs recording studios and a burgeoning hub of creativity above the South Bank CIU Social Club, in Ovington Terrace, York.

Instead, York theatre company Common Ground will present a non-ticketed show privately elsewhere as Jarman brings months of preparation to fruition, talking the talk after walking the walk.

York-based Jarman has been working with director Ruby Clarke on honing and shaping Made Of Nowhere into a 60-minute piece. So far he has presented scratch performances at a Say Owt spoken-word night at 1331 and this summer’s Great Yorkshire Fringe free fringe at The Basement, in York, and at the Making Room Studio Takeover at the Sheffield Crucible, where he is part of the Writers’ Group (and has just submitted a first draft for a show there).

“We worked on the piece for three days in the Studio, working with the in-house sound and lighting technicians, which was a really useful experience, and since then we’ve gone back into rehearsals here at the Young Thugs hub to finish making the show,” says Dave.

Now his solo piece, “just me, my guitar and my vocabulary”, is ready with its dynamic, flowing movement between storytelling, poetry and song, driven by an over-arching narrative that addresses the state of the nation, Brexit and the state of Jarman in that Britain too.

“That’s part of the reason I wanted to do the walk and this show as I really wanted to challenge myself by doing the best piece of solo music, poetry and theatre I could,” he says.

“It’s essentially a story about me going on the Coast to Coast, in mid-September, just after the Referendum vote, and reflecting on the suddenly changing social landscape and the people I encountered on that journey: surprising people, lovely people, kind people, horrible people.”

Waiting to be paid for a job, Jarman set off with only £80 in his pocket and a 60-litre rucksack on his back for his two-week solo trek. Inside were one tent, one sleeping bag, one stove, bars of chocolate, tins of soup. Outside, he would sleep under the stars, “though there weren’t stars every night; some were pretty weird, shifting nights.” he says.

Dave Jarman: one rucksack, one guitar, one walk, plenty of talk

“But I’ve always liked my own company, and when I set out to do it, I was clear that I was seeking solitude, which changes your approach to the world around you.”

The weather was changeable, meaning Jarman could go from getting sunburnt to wading through water, and the people he met were ever-changing too. “Walking alone throws up strange situations as you pass through places you don’t know, like Orton, where I spent half an hour helping a woman mend her lawnmower, something I’ve never done before or since,” says Dave.

“When you walk through a village with a rucksack, and you’re the only person doing that, villagers know you’re out for an adventure and stop to talk to you.

“As the walk went on, Brexit became the subtext to any conversation with anyone, whether it was mentioned directly or not.”

He found his attitude changing as he walked, although not his Brexit position as a Remainer. “I went from thinking, ‘those old b*****ds’, they’re jeopardising my future’, to coming to the view that everyone approached the referendum with a nuanced point of view but we didn’t know the full facts. You have to get over any sense of hatred as otherwise there’s nowhere to go.”

Jarman was never going to give up on his trek. “The worst moment was just before the highest point of the walk, in the Lake District. It was dark, foggy, visibility was very low, 2,500ft up, the winds were whistling around you, and you do question why you’re doing it, but the things that are very trying make it a better story.”

“Made Of Nowhere is in part a very subtle nod to parts of the country that voted the way they did in the Brexit vote, but on a personal note, it’s also about me being shaped and made from being from a bit of a Nowheresville, Easingwold, not quite countryside, not quite York,” says Dave.

Made Of Nowhere may be having a quieter premiere tonight than first planned, but Common Ground hope to stage a public performance in the New Year. And who knows where Brexit might be by then.