From excitement, to disillusionment, fear, anger, joy and satisfaction, Veronica Stivala discovered that – however, short the timeframe for putting up a theatre production – one inevitably goes through all its various stages and emotions. In her case, 24 hours to create and perform an entire show.

By two o’clock we were all shouting at each other, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only person who wished at least one other member in my group would magically disappear, forever. By three o’clock something bizarre happened and, as we stepped onto the boards of the stage at the Pepper Theatre in Neuperlach, Munich, we found ourselves laughing together in between scenes, having fun, and even coming up with a completely new idea for a scene.

By 10 o’clock that night, a play that didn’t even exist at the same time the day before had been performed and had won us the audience award. We cheered together and, while just a few hours before I had been counting the hours till we could part ways, I found myself sharing a few drinks and even making up some new dance moves with my newly-formed theatre troupe that night. But that is another story entirely.

A few weeks ago I experienced the unusual phenomenon that is a 24-hour theatre festival. Organised by English Language Theatre organisation Entity Theatre, the event is basically what it says on the tin: the brave participants are all provided with the same genre (political drama in this case) and a title they pick out of a hat (Under Sky’s Watch in our case). The teams then have 24 hours before curtain up the next day to create an entire performance lasting no longer than 15 minutes.

The process is a fascinating one because participants essentially go through a crash course, if you will, of the various stages of a whole theatrical production. As if that weren’t complicated enough, my team consisted of people I had never met before. That said, knowing someone does not necessarily eliminate the surprises of working with them – under a truckload of stress – for the first time.

We found that the most difficult parts of putting on a play in 24 hours – and if you factor in sleep, you’re really looking at some 10 to 12 hours of working time – were time management and communication, quite similar to the those found in many organisations in general. We effectively had to come up with a clever plot; write a script; see to costumes; props; as well as find music, sound effects and design the lights for our play. And, oh yes, we also had to include a scene in slow-motion, a 10-second meaningful dialogue, a character being caught committing a crime and the line, “it wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last”.

The teams then have 24 hours before curtain up the next day to create an entire performance lasting no longer than 15 minutes

We spent the evening brainstorming ideas for our play and, after an introductory bout of wanting to pull out our hair, we knew our play would centre around three chefs who had entered a cooking competition, during which something would go horribly wrong. This allowed us to raid our wardrobes and cupboards to bring with us some appropriate props and costumes the next day. We would not have time to go home again before curtain up.

While panic and worry had already begun to set it, despite my having promised myself I was in this to have fun, I found my background in physical theatre a saving grace. I had participated in countless productions before, but the speed at which we were racing through the process really was quite unnerving.

While we had tried to go into this project with all of us participating on an equal plane, it soon emerged that we needed different people to take on different responsibilities. Leading my group into what became a physical theatre workshop that saw us walking, slithering and hopping around the room to various styles of music, and speaking out lines at various volumes, pitches and speeds, turned out to be the foundation for our show. We had created an inventory of movement routines, a small supply of lines, and – shouting aside – an atmosphere of camaraderie; this was the result of a collective creative process and was definitely one of the most fun parts.

Each team had been allocated an hour on stage. This was the only time we had to do a technical rehearsal, which meant setting lights and sounds and, of course, the only time we had on stage before we performed to a live audience. While this was daunting, it turned out to be our Eureka moment. There is something special in every performance in which I have participated when you first translate the work you have previously been creating in someone’s living room or a small workspace to the majestic theatre boards. We also found a solution to a scene that had yet been unwritten…

A few hours later we found ourselves nervously waiting to play to our audience. The actors held hands and we vowed to each other that, above all, we were going to enjoy this. And that we did. The audience were in fits and loved the scene we ‘wrote’ on stage which saw our French character speak in grunts that sounded vaguely French, while the other character translated them to a certain degree. It was a you had to be there moment.

I will not say the process was easy and I’m not sure I want to do this ever again, at least not for the next six months. But I will definitely never forget the magic of hearing the audience bawling at our creation, our 24-hour theatre show.