In memory of Ruby McCann

I first met Ruby in 2015 when I enrolled for an MLitt in Playwriting & Dramaturgy at the University of Glasgow. I wasn’t very present in those early days as I was in between jobs whilst supporting members of my family who were in hospital. I was so pleased to meet Ruby. Here was a working class Glaswegian like me…but one who had directed students in plays in the US. Her presence assuaged my fears that I would be confronted with a monolith of middle class mores from the literary and performance world. Hers was a voice of place and warmth…one which reminded me of the good people I grew up with.

Ruby was a playwright, a poet, and a dramaturg as well as a director. I remember an early assignment where we were to take to the streets, observe what we saw and record it in a passage to be read to the class the following week. When that time came, Ruby’s piece for me stood out. She observed amongst the litter the ‘jewels’ that had been discarded. As she read her poetic words she’d reach for the ground and lift an unseen item in her hand. It was beautiful. It had percussion and meter which appealed to this methodical engineer. I remember how surprised she was when I told her this. I still see her in my mind’s eye reaching for the ground. I’ll miss her voice.

Ruby did not suffer fools gladly or otherwise. She knew who she was and just as importantly why she was. She would not bend to the will of others simply because they thought she should. I really liked that about her. Too many working class voices have been silenced. She would not add to their number. The first time we worked together, on the afore-mentioned course, was as part of a wider group. We had to present performative dramaturgy before a group of academics. Although an actor, I had never before performed to a front row of half-moon specs holding pads and pens. The silence was deafening. Ruby had supported my idea of infusing the directionality of vectors within a version of Medea to create agency, dynamism and a sense of character co-dependency. The members of our group were not a natural mix of people. We were an ‘accidental cohort’. However, the vectors seemed to assist our co-dependent relationship: we were graded an A. This was in no small part down to Ruby’s support and insight. I remember Ruby had refused point-blank to play the part of Medea (I played that role). Knowing as little as I did then of Greek mythology, I hadn’t understood why. Several years later, having read a few of the Greek epics, I fully appreciate why. Ruby would not present herself in the expected role of a flawed and tragic woman before a phalanx of middle class male professors. She was right to play Jason. I’ll miss her spirit.

I last saw Ruby in 2019. I had an idea to align a plot within the Odyssey to the story of a group of regulars in a modern day pub. I was unsure of this…there was classicism mixed with feminist politics and issues of sexual orientation. Ruby helped me in the early stages of writing. Then, when the characters had been fully established, she sent me on my way. She was like that…generous with her time. Last week I had the pleasure of a first reading of Dance The Colour Blue with a group of actors. It saddens me she’ll not see it.

Ruby was a poet, a playwright, a dramaturg and a director. Ruby was my friend. I’ll miss her.

https://www.glasgowwestend.co.uk/ruby-mccann-glasgow-writer/