Aurora on WIPEOUT

I learned how to surf in Santa Cruz, California. Hands down the best surfers I encountered were women over the age of seventy. They were fearless. They went for everything. Small waves, big waves, my waves. If it moved, there they were, hanging ten, shredding. They didn’t have time to waste. That ferocity—that hunger to go, to live without regret or apology—inspired Wipeout.  

Wipeout is a coming-of-age story about coming into one’s final age. Our world obsesses over what women lose as they grow older: youth, beauty, sex drive, strength. Few people discuss what women gain—the self-knowledge that comes with growing into one’s true self. Wipeout runs on the belief that stories about older women are worth telling, wildly entertaining, and, perhaps most importantly, universal. The play recognizes that our best friends are often our greatest loves, and it tracks the struggle to maintain friendship throughout life’s violent ebbs and flows. It is as heartbreaking as it is hilarious, equal parts sex jokes, existential fear, and surf slang.  

It wasn’t my intention to write a radical play, but Wipeout has become something radical. The majority of roles available for older women focus on senescence. Age is the defining factor, either because it has gone well and the woman is wise or it has not and the woman is senile. Regardless, these women exist to support the main character. Rarely are they asked to be the main characters. Rarely are they asked to do physical comedy. Never are they asked to surf.  

I have been astonished and deeply moved by the courage and stamina of the women I have worked with thus far. Their extraordinary commitment to risk everything before an audience reminds me that opportunities like Wipeout are long overdue. This generation of female artists deserves the spotlight. They are ready for it. They have been ready for a long time.