Bobby Harding is a live art producer and creative, and a beneficiary of Stage One’s Bridge the Gap 2025–26 programme. Most recently, Bobby produced Temi Wilkey’s work, following its acclaimed run at the Edinburgh Fringe, with Wilkey’s new show Lover Girl heading to Soho Theatre in November 2026.
In this interview, Bobby shares insights into their journey into producing, their approach to fundraising and collaboration, and the impact of Bridge the Gap on their career.
What inspired you to become a theatre producer?
My whole thing came from watching drag shows in the basements of bars and pubs like the Glory or Superstore. I saw incredible performers creating full entertainment shows that tackled everything going on in the world with diverse casts. After the shows, I’d ask what they were doing next, and they’d say, “I’ve got another one next week.” I realised these queer shows existed underground because there weren’t enough people to help with the organisational side to get them on bigger stages. That’s when I thought, I want to do that. Especially within the queer community, which is so intersectional, the community work just naturally comes with it. A lot of the artists I work with are passionate about giving back to where they came from, as am I. I’m from the Midlands, not London, so a big part of my practice is feeding back into what fed into me.
You’ve raised nearly £400,000 for independent artists and theatre companies. What’s your approach to fundraising?
Fundraising really came by accident. I started as a soundboard for artists pitching their shows, and I realised I was good at translating their ideas into the language funders want to hear, more funded, more sanitised language, but without losing the core of the project. Trust is key. The artists I work with trust me not to misinterpret their words but to help them get the money and the opportunity. It snowballed from there. I also found many queer artists didn’t know about available funds or felt they wouldn’t be eligible. I’d tell them, “Actually, you could go for this,” and help bridge that gap. Queer people are culture, and when you translate that culture into a funding application the right way, funders respond positively. It’s about sharing knowledge and lifting each other up.
How do you choose your projects? What draws you to a story or artist?
For me, it’s always about the artist and the story. I believe producing is about investing in the artist to create the work. The artist brings the creative ideas, and the work will follow if you facilitate the process properly. I look for drive and a clear sense of direction, not CV or experience. It’s about the journey, are we going to be in it together? I want to talk about stories that aren’t being told: trans stories, immigrant stories, working-class stories. I want to get those on stage so society can have more nuanced conversations.
How did being part of the Bridge the Gap programme shape your career?
It was invaluable, and the fact it was free was a bargain I loved. I often say I have no business calling myself a producer because I don’t have formal qualifications, everything I’ve learned has been through residencies, shadowing, internships, and my communities. Bridge the Gap literally bridges the gap between where I am and the language of money, investment, and legal terms that I didn’t have. Through workshops and talking to producers at different levels, I learned a lot and also contributed where I could. The programme gave me permission to take up space as a producer. If top producers believe in me, then I must be doing something right.
What advice would you give to someone from an underrepresented background thinking about commercial theatre producing?
Two things: don’t ask for permission and ask questions. Don’t wait for someone to tell you that you can do it because those in charge don’t want to move. If you wait for permission, you’ll be waiting forever. And if you don’t know something, learn it. Be a leader who knows their gaps and is willing to fill them. I’m awful at maths but taught myself Excel and how to make the numbers work for me. You can do it too.
You juggle multiple roles, including Fundraising Lead for London Trans+ Pride and Assistant Producer at LAMDA. How do you balance everything?
I recently moved from LAMDA to Marlborough Productions as a programme producer, which is part-time and helps sustain my practice. I’m lucky to have part-time jobs in the industry. I’ve worked in retail and sold perfume on the side before, so this is a big step. Balancing everything means managing your time your way, not anyone else’s. You have to take control of your time and learn to say no. As a producer, you’re often the one who picks up the slack, but leaning on community support and setting boundaries is something I’m still learning. Doing work I love, like Trans Pride, fills my cup rather than empties it.
Can you share a memorable moment when collaboration transformed a project?
I produced a live art exhibition called Love Shannon X in 2024. It started as a film, and through collaboration with Joseph, we translated it into a live art piece with a performer and a custom-built set. We “queered” the mediums together to create something new and beautiful for the community about a trans California icon. We even built a one-to-one scale replica of her living room from California and flew it over. Dreaming big allowed us to create something closer to that dream than I thought possible. That experience was truly inspiring.
What do you think people outside the industry misunderstand about producing?
People often misunderstand that producers aren’t gods. We’re humans who can’t do everything. Sometimes producers forget that too. If everyone treated each other with more humanity, things would be better. Also, producers aren’t billionaires who only care about money. A good producer understands the core of the project. Anyone can be a producer, if you get your friends together and organise a script reading in your living room, you’re producing. That’s how I got into it during lockdown, creating a community through Zoom script readings. By the end, we had 120 members, and a friend told me, “You do know you’re a producer?”
What excites you most about the future of theatre?
I think there’s a lot more good than bad in the industry. The real threat is from outside it. Over the last five or six years, there’s been a growing rebellion against oppression from outside. There’s a real desire for trans people to feel safe and for different voices to be heard on stage. I’m excited for theatre to rise up and push back when things get worse, telling stories that aren’t being told now. There are incredible people with insane drive who can turn it all around, and I’m excited to watch their journeys.
Bobby Harding’s journey is a powerful reminder that producing is about community, courage, and creating space for voices too often unheard. Their work continues to inspire and shape a more inclusive future for theatre. Keep an eye out for Lover Girlat Soho Theatre this November.