What's on Past Events COMPLETE: Devoted & Disgruntled 2026: What are we going to do about theatre and the performing arts? Our 21st annual unconventional convention for everyone who is passionate about making change in Theatre and the Performing Arts is back, 2nd - 4th May 2026 at Shoreditch Town Hall, London. ‘What are we going to do about Theatre and the Performing Arts?’ Book your tickets JUMP TO: Invitations Tickets Event Information Access Information Improbable’s 21st annual unconventional convention for everyone who is passionate about making change in theatre and the performing arts is back! We'll be at Shoreditch Town Hall in London from Saturday 2nd May - Monday 4th May 2026.A nationwide conversation about theatre and the performing arts. Since 2006, Improbable has been using a process called Open Space Technology to facilitate these gatherings where everyone’s voice matters, no topic is off-limits, and the agenda is created by the people in the room. There are no keynote speakers. No panels. No fixed programme. You decide what gets talked about, explored, challenged, and dreamed into being.For three decades, Improbable has been asking bold questions about how we make work, how we work together, and how we imagine better futures. Devoted & Disgruntled remains one of the places where those questions are not only asked — but acted upon. Plus this year, we're celebrating Improbable's 30th Anniversary! A chance to take stock, reflect back, and look forward. If the question “What are we going to do about Theatre and the Performing Arts?” inspires you, invigorates you, or even infuriates you — then this is for you. If we’re going to change things for the better, we need time, space, and each other — meeting on equal footing, with curiosity, courage, and care.Devoted & Disgruntled is that time and space. An Invitation from Ellie Claughton, Executive Director, Improbable TICKET PRICES (AND WHO GETS TO BE IN THE ROOM) As we launch ticket sales for this year’s Devoted & Disgruntled, I want to talk about money, because avoiding it is one of the ways exclusion quietly creeps into our sector.Confession number one: I’m borrowing this approach from Middle Child Theatre, who published a brilliant, transparent breakdown of what it actually costs to put work on. I admired the honesty. The arts talk a lot about access; we talk less about who pays for it. So here’s the reality.This year, we’re raising the standard ticket price for Devoted & Disgruntled to £40. That’s £10 more than last year. My budget for D&D has increased from £21k to £23k, and that still doesn’t include staff time. Venue hire costs more. Staffing costs more. Equipment costs more. None of this is news.We sell around 250 tickets per event. If everyone paid the true cost of attending, tickets would be £92 each.There are conferences charging well above that. But Devoted & Disgruntled was never meant to be one of them.D&D exists because the sector needs a space where people can speak freely — not just the loudest, most secure, or best-funded voices. It’s why we run it at weekends. It’s why we move it around the country. It’s why open space sits at its heart. Charging £92 fundamentally undermines that purpose.D&D is not a product. It’s a sector-supporting activity. The Numbers We Don’t Usually ShareIf all 250 attendees paid £40, ticket income would be £10,000, leaving us with a £13,000 shortfall.But that assumes everyone can pay £40, which history tells us isn’t the case. Once we account for Pay What You Decide tickets, we expect closer to £6,000 in income, meaning the real loss is around £17,000.That gap is covered partly through our NPO funding, and partly through Open Space for Hire, where we take open space practice into organisations outside the arts. It’s strong work. It pays the bills. But here’s the tension: the more time we spend translating our practice for corporate or non-arts settings, the less time we have to reach the artists and freelancers who actually need spaces like D&D. THE TICKETSThe Standard Ticket is £40.We’ve kept Pay What You Decide, with a £15 minimum, because financial circumstance shouldn’t be the thing that stops you coming into the room.If you’re on a low income or receiving income-related benefits, email us and we’ll offer a free ticket.We’ve removed Pay It Forward this year — not because the idea wasn’t right, but because the tickets simply weren’t being claimed. Instead, we’re introducing Support D&D.This isn’t a ticket. It’s a gesture of belief. A way to help us offer free places to artists from marginalised backgrounds and to absorb the real, rising costs of holding this space at all. It’s about collective responsibility for the conversations we say we want to keep alive. So to be clear, our ticket options are: Standard ticket: £40 Pay What You Decide: minimum £15 If Devoted & Disgruntled is to mean anything, it has to remain a place where the agenda isn’t set by who can afford the door price — but by who turns up with something at stake.A booking fee will be charged per ticket. The amount will vary based on the ticket cost. Book Tickets An invitation from Matilda Leyser, Co-Artistic Director of Improbable “Tell me about despair. Yours. And I will tell you mine.” Mary Oliver from Wild Geese ‘Devoted and Disgruntled’ is the name that Phelim gave to this event when it first began in 2005. Now, twenty-one years later, I feel the slipperiness of the ground under us - from Devotion to Disgruntlement to Dire Despair. Because some things about the world today feel too sad, too terrible, too hard - too much to bear. So, I want to tell you a personal story about despair - mine - and invite you to tell me yours. Because I think this act of telling and of hearing, makes all the difference. That’s another potent ‘D’ word - Difference. In 2024, on the Monday morning after my 50th birthday weekend, I received a diagnosis of Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. I spent the rest of that year undergoing intensive chemotherapy which put me into remission. Throughout last year I had regular biopsies of my bone marrow which were all clear, until November, when they weren’t. My biopsy that month showed a molecular relapse. Yesterday I went for a hospital appointment to discuss my options, which include having a stem cell transplant - basically bringing a whole new immune system from someone else into my body, since mine is faulty, or faltering. I spent half an hour listening to the bone marrow transplantation specialist - a doctor called Madson - talk me through the statistics and risks involved: the percentage of people who are cured, the percentage who undergo complications as a result of the transplant, the percentage who die, either from the transplant or from the disease. It was grim listening - none of the statistics filled me with hope. Despair was in the room. But then Madson invited me to ask some questions and listened while I explained about my children, their high level of vulnerability, why I need time, and why I may not make the most statistically obvious choice. And then, in response, Madson said: “The decision, in the end, is yours, and we will support you whatever you decide.” This brought instant tears. I looked at him through these and thanked him, and he did not look away. He held my gaze. Several seconds passed. It was only the slightly nervous assistant doctor who broke the moment by offering me a tissue. This - not the content of the meeting - but this moment of being seen, heard, respected - is what brings me hope, even joy, right now. This is what I live for, and what could save my life. It could save yours too. In fact, it could just save the world. It is why we still hold this event called ‘Devoted and Disgruntled,’ because it is a place in which you are invited to give and to receive this life-saving thing - what Nancy Kline calls ‘generative attention,’ the thing Madson gave to me for a moment yesterday - a chance to think for yourself and be respected while you do. So don’t despair - or rather do, but don’t do it alone. Come and tell me, and others, about it. And maybe, just maybe, save some lives, or simply make someone else’s, and yours, a bit better. Maybe find your way to hope, and even joy. It’s time for D&D – time to Dare to make a Difference. Book Tickets An invitation from Kathryn Bilyard, Executive Producer, Improbable What are we going to do about the future of theatre and the performing arts? This is an invitation to Devoted and Disgruntled, also known as D&D. What can I say that might make you give up a bank holiday weekend in May to come and do some work? It’ll definitely be sunny now we’ve booked D&D on it too, so really my top tip would be to book an Airbnb on the coast pronto. Or… I have been thinking about why I am coming to Devoted and Disgruntled this year. I work for the company so the expectation on my attendance is different but we do genuinely operate the law of two feet (IYKYK, if you don’t, come find out) so if I didn’t want to attend that would be supported. Perhaps disgruntledly but it would. So, each year I also need to choose to come. I’ve been thinking about the spaces and people who have had a big impact on me and the invites into those spaces. An invite from David Jubb to all of the staff at BAC to come to What Next? I think I was the only one who took that up and what a difference that made to my life, every Wednesday at 8.30am in a small, packed hot room at the Young Vic having my mind opened. The many many invites I wrote while events manager at the Donmar and the spaces that opened off to the side, an empty office late at night with my team where lifelong friendships were made. An offer of mentorship after a failed job application which became a game changer. An invitation at the right time to a Devoted and Disgruntled event in response to the Prorogation of Parliament in 2019 right when I was looking for collaborators to build something new with. What do these spaces have in common? Looking back they were all spaces where people came together in frank, open dialogue, actual conversations, had ideas and made stuff. People just came as themselves not as their job title. We just started working on it and got it done. These are the spaces where I took a deep breath and let out an idea. Spaces where I might say, ‘I can help with that’ without having any idea how. Devoted and Disgruntled is one of these spaces. So this is my invitation to you, whoever you are reading this. Maybe you have an idea or a problem you want to work on, maybe you don’t. Maybe you are looking to meet new people. Maybe you’re just looking for a shot of something. I can’t tell you what will happen because there’s no agenda. But a lot does happen in here. From lobbying government, to new companies being born, to finding solidarity over a biscuit, to conversations about the magic of butterflies. What do you want to talk about? What do you want to work on? Shall we just start doing it? See you there, KB p.s. The good news is that the door stays open. If it’s not for you, or it’s just really really sunny that day, it’s easy to leave. I think knowing that makes it easier to arrive so I thought I would tell you that. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Tom Ryalls, Writer and Founder of BAP! We have normalised crisis. This is not a new statement, we’ve been doing it quite regularly in different ways since the dawn of neoliberalism, and in other ways before that. Yurchak would call this hypernormalisation. Our leaders tell stories of how growth is making our lives better, despite the fact that we don’t see this in our reality. In the cultural sector we echo this as leaders tell us we need to diversify income, despite the fact that in our reality the efforts of other sectors to increase their income is increasing our outgoings. In ourselves our nervous systems are becoming increasingly unregulated, I jump at the slightest surprise, I need to be outside more and more just to get through the day. This constant crisis we live in can be seen as related to money, and capitalism. That is a truth for me. Another truth is that these two things are just stories, stories that we have all been told we must believe in, despite the fact that we know they are not real. Artists are the experts at getting people to believe in things that aren’t necessarily real, at shaping our collective imagination. So, what do we need to do to shape the current crisis of imagination? How does our art do something about this? We are not going to find these answers in conferences where art is an industry, or where art is discussed purely in terms of its economic impact. But I trust that we can continue this conversation at D&D. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Isaac Acheampong, Librarian , Multidisciplinary Artist and Creative Practitioner/Facilitator I love open space. I heard about Open Space over two decades ago, from a remarkable woman called Liz Gould, whom I met on an Action Learning Facilitation course through an Arts Council-sponsored Cultural Leadership Programme. And, I heard about that Cultural Leadership Programme through a kind and thoughtful man called Jasper, who saw potential in me. There's a pattern. The pattern is connections, conversations and generosity, as well as a willingness and openness to accepting and engaging in the connections and conversations, and to receiving the generosity being offered. Liz's enthusiasm and generosity fuelled my curiosity, so I sought out opportunities to experience and learn more about what this Open Space thing was about. I googled endlessly until I landed on Improbable Theatre, and Devoted and Disgruntled. I contacted the D&D team at Improbable and asked if I could come and volunteer, and they said yes. Actually, it was more like YES! The team welcomed me with open arms into the world of Open Space. That was over 20 years ago, and the rest is history. Another pattern I've noticed about the whole Improbable, D&D, improvisation, open space ecosystem/phenomena is the attitude, of ‘yes’ and being open to the unfolding of possibilities. This is a magic that manifests opportunities. I've been willingly and sometimes over-enthusiastically offering to volunteer ever since, because I love it so much. Improbable’s generosity and openness, then saw me join the Open Space facilitation team, and I’ve travelled extensively all over the country as a result. In 2017 I helped bring Improbable and Open Space to Hull, as part of the City Of Culture programme of events, because I believe in it so much. D&D is like an annual pilgrimage, and the satellite open space events are like retreats and holidays where I connect with my open space family, and I also connect with myself, my thoughts and my ideas. It's always refreshing and transformative. Why such a long back story as a call to action? Because saying yes to D&D and open space will open up possibilities and opportunities that could change your life, because you’re likely meet just the right people, waiting for you. People who are willing to connect and converse with you. People who will help shape your ideas and visions. It’s a rare opportunity indeed. In today's increasingly fractured, fragmented and polarised world, we need this even more urgently. I particularly want to encourage more diversity, and attendance from marginalised people, groups and communities. It’s essential to have everyone’s voices in the conversations in shaping the solutions to those pressing issues, for all of us. Whoever you are, say yes, because Open Space is a safe space. So, whether you're a theatre darling (which I'm not) an artist, a scientist or another type of creative (we're all creative), everyone is welcome. If there’s even a remote twinge of intrigue in you, then say yes, because that’s the silent spark speaking within you, which could become the roaring flame that fuels and warms. Open Space can be deeply transformative. It could change your life. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Alice Rayman, Head of Community Engagement, Phosphoros Theatre For the past eighteen years I’ve worked in participatory arts - spending most of my time in rooms with people whose voices aren’t always heard in the arts sector. The people I work with include those who have experienced homelessness, young offenders, adults with learning disabilities, refugees and asylum seekers. Theatre and the arts can be powerful spaces. With all of us working hard to open those spaces up, yet as we know, access to them is still far from equal. Anyone who works in participatory arts knows that the work often comes with a pastoral element. We’re not just holding creative space - we’re often holding emotional space too. Listening to difficult experiences, supporting people through challenges, and carrying a certain level of responsibility for the wellbeing of the people in the room. It’s work that matters to a lot of us but it can also carry a mental and emotional load. And on top of that mental load, I’m also a carer. This means my life is shaped not just by rehearsal schedules and workshops, but also hospital appointments, medication reminders, navigating systems that require the patience of a saint, and occasionally trying to answer work emails while on hold to a GP surgery. I should say - I feel incredibly lucky in the work I’m doing right now. The team I work with at Phosphoros Theatre are genuinely supportive and understanding. That kind of environment makes a huge difference. But I’ve also been in spaces where that understanding isn’t there. Or where caring is understood only in practical terms - flexibility to attend appointments, or permission to leave early if something urgent comes up. And while those things matter, caring isn’t just a scheduling issue. It’s also the emotional and mental weight people carry with them. Sometimes you arrive at work already holding a lot - worry, exhaustion, the aftermath of a difficult morning, or the constant background hum of responsibility for someone else’s wellbeing. It doesn’t neatly switch off when the working day begins. In participatory arts we often talk about holding space for other people’s stories, needs and experiences. But how do we hold space for the people doing the work? I often wonder how many artists, facilitators, producers and leaders are quietly navigating caring responsibilities alongside their creative lives. How many are finding ways to make it work - and how many feel pushed to the edges of the sector because of it. At the same time, caring shapes the way we work. It builds patience, empathy, resilience and the ability to adapt quickly when things don’t go to plan. Skills that feel incredibly valuable in participatory practice. So I’m curious. How are other people navigating this? Maybe you’re a carer yourself.Maybe you work with people who are carers.Maybe you lead a team or organisation and are wondering how we can better support carers in our workplaces. Or maybe you’ve simply become very skilled at managing two worlds at once. I’d love to open up a conversation about it. What does real support for carers in the arts look like - beyond flexible schedules and time off for appointments? Come along with your experiences, questions, frustrations or ideas. Let’s see where the conversation takes us. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Pav Christodoulou, Creative Director & Co-CEO, Boundless Theatre I've been to a few D&D's over the years now. Last year was the first time I brought young people from my organisation with me. I use and talk about open space a lot in our work, in our company structures and our creative rooms. I'm really proud of how they showed up, of their deep curiosity and engagement with what was in the space, of the way in which they embodied the values of open space. A conversation that we started at D&D and carried on after (When it's over, it's over) was about a hunger for a different fire and urgency in the space. That the urgency of the issues that live so vividly in and on our bodies in the world didn't show up in the same way there. I recognised it as something that I've felt before at D&D, this wrestly unsettled feeling that we could/should be doing more, discussing harder things, more angry, more revolutionary. I hear it loudly in this question, 'What are we going to do about Theatre and the Performing arts?'. In a world on fire, this space can be a powerful place of respite, reflection and dreaming. But it can and has also held the world's contradictions and turmoil. Some of my most valuable memories of D&D are around sitting with discomfort, things that felt like conflict, and using the principles and the space held by Improbable to move through that in a radically different way. At Boundless, we are constantly being faced with the lived reality of young people. It is hard for people right now to find work, afford to live, find sustainable and safe housing, let alone dream about artistic practices and futures. I keep thinking about the question of what is the role of the artist in a society contributing to genocide? What is the role of the artist in a time when it feels like we need riots not plays? I think there are nuanced answers and better questions that we can find together at D&D. See you there. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Regina Mendes, artist and founder of Dreams and a Heart. Our beloved big D&D 2026 will be 2-4 May at Shoreditch Town Hall. Maybe you want to come but you’re a bit shy? That’s ok - come and make some dolls with me and you’ll be ready to listen to many interesting sessions running along two and a half days. Whether you’re feeling quiet or you want to chat, both are welcome - whatever you want. After this gentle mindful practice you’ll feel at home, in your mind as much as in your body, amongst your tribe. We’re waiting for you. With love, Regina An invitation from You-Ri Yamanaka, Actor, Movement Director, Intimacy Coordinator, Voiceover Artist, Cultural Consultant As a Japanese actor and movement director working as a minority artist in the UK, I have been finding my own path in making work. At times I have felt isolated, at other times, deeply blessed. At the heart of this event is the question: “What are we going to do about theatre and the performing arts?” Theatre is where I feel at home — whether in the open air, in museums, or anywhere people gather to watch, listen, and share stories — across countries, cultures, and circumstances. For a long time, I resisted joining projects connected with “Japan,” because I simply wanted to be myself, rather than be placed inside a particular box. Then, after a ten-year hiatus from work following a total hip replacement and other operations that did not go well, I returned to theatre and was once again asked to bring my knowledge, skills, and artistry to work connected with Japan. After living and working in the UK for many years, I have come to realise that I do have something I can offer and share, and that I no longer need to reject those boxes. In fact, the boxes themselves seem to have disappeared. Now, I feel that I carry my Japaneseness somewhere loosely and quietly within my body. I still find myself surprised by how much I do not fully understand about the culture and how things work here. And still, I want to keep creating here. Encountering Open Space — “Whatever happens is the only thing that could have,” “Wherever it happens is the right place,” and “Whoever comes are the right people” — has changed the way I think and the way I create. What we can do together holds far greater possibility than what we can do alone. If there is something you care about creating — anything at all — please come along to D&D. Listening, watching, and simply being in the atmosphere can matter just as much as speaking. Open Space can open a new door in your thinking, your way of being, and your life. BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Phelim McDermott, Co-CEO and Co-Artistic Director, Improbable Devoted & Disgruntled 21 — A Last-Minute Call (and a small pot of money) Hello — it’s Phelim McDermott here. I’m one of the artistic directors of Improbable, and as we’re about a week away, I wanted to put out a last-minute call for this year’s Devoted & Disgruntled. I’ve been noticing something. As D&D approaches, things start appearing—articles, arguments, frustrations, questions about theatre and the world. And I find myself thinking: “People should be working on that at D&D.” Because that’s what this is. Not just a conference. Not just a conversation. A place to think well together. So, one thing I’m bringing this year I’m going to call a session. Many years ago, Seth Honnor and I were talking to Peter Hewitt (then head of the Arts Council) at a D&D. We said: “What if you gave us £100,000 and we distributed it in Open Space? We’d spend two and a half days together and decide what should happen with it.” He looked absolutely terrified. A few weeks later, there was an announcement that he was leaving his job. I’m not saying the two things are connected… but I’ve always wondered. Seth later went on to make a great show from that idea—The Money. But that original impulse has stayed with me, and I want to try a version of it. So, this year, we'll kick it off with a small contribution of £500. Anyone can contribute - come and add to it. And over the two and a half days, we’ll decide—together—what happens to it. You might make a case for something, support someone else, or help shape how the decision gets made. It might be small. It might grow. What becomes possible when we trust this kind of space with real decisions? Can we invent new ways to make them? So what will you bring? Making theatre can feel harder than ever. D&D is a place to bring the thing you’re working on—or stuck on—and work on it with other people. If you’re thinking: “I can’t come, I’ve got too much to do” Then bring that. Bring the show. Bring the problem. Bring the question. Use the space instead of doing it alone. Who is this for? If you’re devoted to theatre… If you work in the arts and want community… If there’s something in your work—or your life—you want to think through… If you’re disgruntled about how things are right now… this is for you. If you’re unsure whether to come… that might be the best reason to come. If you’ve been before—come back. If you’ve never been—come and find out. D&D only exists because of the people in the room So this is simple: Come and help create the space. Come and think. Come and work. Come and not feel alone. - If you think you should come, or you think you shouldn’t - maybe you should… BOOK TICKETS An invitation from Ellie Browning, Head of Cultural Programme, Shoreditch Town Hall Shoreditch Town Hall operates as an arts venue with a unique model. We receive no regular financial subsidy and instead rely on income from commercial hires - ranging from conferences, brand launches, weddings, and filming to rehearsals. This hire income directly supports our cultural and community programmes. As funding for theatre and the performing arts becomes increasingly volatile, this independence is something we increasingly value. It also gives us autonomy, and although we are not funded to do so, we have made a long‑standing commitment to supporting artists and the wider sector - not only to develop and test work, but also to come together as a community. Our Assembly Hall is an ideal space for D&D, and we are delighted to be hosting for a second year running. Last year we witnessed an incredible sense of community. Please do come along - you will be very welcome. BOOK TICKETS You can post your own invitations to this event below in the comments, or on your own platforms and social media. It's a chance to read why other people are coming, what experiences they've had before, and what important topics they'd like to discuss this year. Let's start the conversation now. To find out more about D&D, see the video below: Image credit: Corrine Cumming Booking for this event has now closed. Book