The village of Majdal Shams in the Golan Heights on the border of Israel & Syria is divided by fifty yards of no man’s land. Every Friday the villagers – families & friends separated by a never-ending conflict – gather on either side to converse. They have to shout to hear each other: news, arguments, stories, gossip, declarations of love, discussions of the price of potatoes.

The Shouting Fence is an outdoor piece for singers – The Shout & many amateurs & children, about communication under extreme circumstances of separation. It’s a piece about the everyday life of a group of Palestinians.

The singers should be of all ages & backgrounds. They are positioned in two locations from which they are just able to hear each other – on two rooftops, or on either side of a river, or separated by some man-made obstruction.

The texts, some fragmentary, some elaborate, some mundane & prosaic, some emotive & poetic, some lyrical, some angry, some rhetorical, are taken from letters & messages & poems written by people involved in the conflict. Some of the texts are written by us. There is a collision between the everyday & the extreme.

The singers sing in groups & individually, trying to bridge the space in between. The children are more wayward, playing games, hurling insults, ignoring their friends on either side of the divide; perhaps they have been dragged along by their parents & are simply passing the time. Several people are too old to produce the required volume & are obliged to enlist the help of their younger friends & relatives. The singing is sometimes concerted, organised, communicative, sometimes disjointed & chaotic – many voices clamouring, none comprehensible.

Towards the end of the piece a third choir, a choir of exiles, sings from a distant place. They sing about their guilt at being removed from the conflict.

The singing is not amplified. The singers sometimes use megaphones; but the piece is about the challenge of long-distance acoustic communication. The singing is intended to be not beautiful & smooth, like the singing of a church choir; but rough & direct & from the heart. A perfect vocal technique is not needed; a passionate spirit & a good pair of lungs are more useful.

The piece lasts about 45 minutes. It is angry & funny & sad.