Originally Published in Print, April 2022.
With the immense growth of the podcast industry in the past decade, the cultural grip radio once held has diminished. This isn’t to say that radio is obsolete – I’m personally involved in Trinity’s radio scene and simply have yet to find a podcast that I prefer over live broadcasting. However, it is no surprise that radio has fallen from grace. Mainstream stations within Dublin have an over-reliance on playing ‘safe’ music, cycling between Ed Sheeran’s discography and whatever song is trending on TikTok. Additionally, the instant satisfaction gained by opening Spotify and having immediate access to whatever music you crave, at any time, has taken away the magic of tuning in to your favourite station with the anticipation of hearing your favourite songs.
This increase in streaming has led to a decline in the production and distribution of traditional radio plays. The artistic medium that had once been crucial for the careers of literary greats, such as Samuel Beckett, Orson Welles and Irwin Shaw, has failed to adapt to the changing patterns of media consumption. However, the exponential growth of the podcast industry has both filled the niche left by broadcasting, and fostered what could be considered as a new iteration of the radio play.
One of Trinity’s own students has recently begun producing a fictional podcast series, Her Waking Hours. The creator, Róisín Finnegan, is in her third year of English Studies. When talking about her work, she describes how she views its categorisation as fluid. “I would consider it a fiction podcast, but had it come out at a different time, say 10 or 20 years ago, it would have been a radio play that aired in different instalments”. Noting the lack of distinctions between the mediums, she remarks that, on paper, it resembles a play more than anything else, loaded with what are essentially stage directions. Speaking more generally about the genre, Finnegan notes her particular inspirations as The Magnus Archives and Hello From The Magic Tavern.
The podcast focuses on the single character of Shóna, who awakens one morning in an empty room with no memories and entirely alone. The podcast consists of five episodes, each representing a found tape. Shóna claims to have a rare illness that means she doesn’t need sleep or food. In the first episode, she receives a letter from the outside world that states because of her illness she has been put in this isolated room, lined only with books, paper, pens, and the tape recorder. The people of the outside world believe that due to her condition she must be fated to do something great.
Reflecting on her own work, Finnegan notes the importance of technology in creative pursuits. “I think it’s interesting that people have been experimenting with what they can do. You have long-running radio shows or famous plays like War of the Worlds, which was a fictional experiment that people believed was real because it was on the radio”. Her choice to work in the medium of podcasting, rather than broadcasting, stemmed from the popularity and accessibility it provided. “Before, performing a radio play took a team, it was a proper show. For me, I have done this all myself with no previous experience. Without the sound effects and technology, I would have had no way to do this.”
In terms of the writing and recording process, Finnegan composed all episodes before she began recording. Because she writes and voices the sole character, she needs to work in the auditory elements around the story’s dramatic progression. “There are a few big twists that happen, and as a writer and creator I had to be aware of how I’m building the story from the beginning. My main thought when writing it was about how I was going to be using sound”. From the sound of footsteps or tapes running in the background, down to the change in Shóna’s voice as she moves around her room, Finnegan’s attention to detail creates a dynamic backdrop that listeners are submersed into. Finnegan uses sound as a storytelling method, noting the importance of having external stimuli to prevent an over-reliance on the narrator. “The sounds clue listeners into what is happening to the character before she realises herself. It’s these small details that I wouldn’t have ever thought of before, but that are so important when you’re creating a universe based on sound as opposed to visuals”.
The exclusion of a visual element altered the characterisation of the play’s sole protagonist, Shóna. “Because I had to work in the confines of a solely auditory environment, I needed to portray someone who was wholly unsuited to her isolated surroundings. She’s someone who needs socialisation, both to progress the plot but also to make the format viable. I wanted Shóna to be someone who wouldn’t be satisfied with what small information she was given, and to have a desire to talk to other people. Otherwise, the story doesn’t make sense”. Had this been an onstage production, Finnegan could have used visual elements to convey the loneliness and desolation contained within the podcast.
The publication of a fictional podcast doesn’t allow for immediate feedback, especially in the case of small creators like Finnegan. However, the hosting website, PodBean, offers a somewhat invasive tracking of her listeners. She explains that whilst she can’t peek out from behind a curtain to see her audience’s reactions, she can see what country her listeners are from, what time of day they’re more likely to listen and the gender breakdown, creating an almost perversely intimate relationship between creatives and consumers.
Finally, we ask: are fictional podcasts the new radio plays? Finnegan believes that, “in a way, they are. Theatre is a confusing and malleable thing”. While there is definitely room to argue for and against such an idea, the processes are extremely similar. Both require script-writing, sound design and voice acting, simply shared across a different medium. Perhaps the idea that podcasts are not a component of a new generation of theatre relates more to our preconceived notions of what art can and cannot be. While podcasts may not be on stage, nor broadcast across a country’s airwaves, they are a massive cultural movement within the arts. As Róisín Finnegan’s statistics have shown, her podcast of 100 listeners can reach across the globe, creating an immersive experience that transcends the physical restrictions of small productions. Ultimately, the fictional podcast functions in a creative space that takes full advantage of technological developments, whilst paying homage to the tradition they stem from.
Her Waking Hours is available to stream on Spotify.
