South Australian playwright Finegan Kruckemeyer won the English as a First Language category at the 2026 BBC World Service International Audio Drama Competition for his script Here, on a High Hill, a moving and poetic drama following four teenagers as they reflect on life in a graveyard in south-west Ireland. The competition received more than 800 entries from 87 countries, with the English as a Second Language category won by Idi Nasiru from Nigeria, and the Georgi Markov Award for most outstanding script on the shortlist going to Rukshani Weerasooriya Wijemanne, Rushika Weerasooriya Heinle and Rajeev Colton from Sri Lanka. We asked Fin a few questions about his win, his writing, and what the experience meant to him.
Here, on a High Hill is set in a graveyard in south-west Ireland but written by a South Australian playwright. How did that landscape and those characters come to you, and what drew you to telling an Irish story?
While much of my life has been spent in Australia, I was born in Skibbereen, Co. Cork, and spent my first eight years there, on a high hill. Our family's migration in 1989 meant my teenage years were Adelaide ones, so it was a fun writing exercise marrying the sentiments of my adolescence with the landscapes of my childhood.
Your work has been performed on every continent, from the Sydney Opera House to Lincoln Center to the Kennedy Center. How does writing for audio drama differ from writing for the stage, and what does the intimacy of the medium open up for you as a writer?
I'll borrow straight from my thank you speech for this one if that's okay, as it spoke precisely to this consideration:
I’ve spent two decades writing works for the stage and enjoying the simple ritual that is a lot of people experiencing the same story while sat side by side – a unified, visible audience. But in writing this work, and in really considering the medium of audio drama, I’ve come to realise the form’s beautiful kinship to my true literary love, which is that of reading a book.
A radio play will come to you. It will meet you in your chosen place, affording you the best seat in the house, which is a seat in your house. It will begin at a time of your choosing, for a reason known to you and you alone – a time when you simply wish to hear a story told. It will not outstay its welcome, or require a babysitter, or force you to change into your nice clothes. It will end up meaning precisely what you decide it does, and it will linger for a long time, or vanish quickly as sweet ephemera. A radio play will speak itself to each individual audience member equally, and quietly, and intimately. It really feels like a truly egalitarian artform, at a time when these are most needed.
As part of your prize, you travelled to London to attend the awards ceremony and hear your script recorded by the BBC. What was that experience like, and did connecting with other international writers at the ceremony open up any unexpected conversations or creative possibilities?
Truly unforgettable and though I've now returned home, I'm still pinching myself. The ceremony took place in a palatial, tapestry-filled London venue full of wonderful audio drama folk and helmed by the amazing Fiona Shaw. And the recording in Cardiff saw four talented Irish and Syrian actors beautifully lift words off a page, as led by a stellar BBC team. Along the way, I got to hang out with fellow recipient Idi from Nigeria, have meetings with prominent theatre companies thanks to great British Council introductions, catch up with friends and family in Bristol and London, and watch my DJ partner play a beautiful gig in Manchester.
Audio drama is one of the most accessible art forms in the world: no ticket price, no venue, no border. Do you think about accessibility and reach when you write, and does knowing your work will air on BBC World Service to audiences across Africa, Asia and the Pacific shape the stories you want to tell?
I do absolutely, but only in the practical sense that I then forgo considerations of specific audiences, and simply write the story that feels it needs telling. Having been lucky enough to see some of my plays travel the globe, I've developed a real faith in the equivalency of audiences, and the fact that a work will resonate or struggle equally no matter where it's viewed. If the audience (child or adult, near or far) feels respected, the characters feel tangible, and the story feels permissive, then a viewer or listener will bravely and generously invest in a shared fiction and imagine it as something real.
British Council's work is rooted in the belief that culture and creativity can foster understanding between people who might otherwise never connect. Do you believe theatre and audio drama can genuinely do that, and has your own experience as an internationally produced playwright given you evidence of it?
Very much so, for the reasons written above.
There are stories and artworks which existed long before us and will exist long after, and the act of knowingly sitting together in a small theatre, or unwittingly listening together across a vast distance, is a unifying and emboldening one. It lets us share something kindred and human, while also giving us permission to think a thought or feel an emotion that's all our own - and it lets us do both the big connected thing and the quiet insular thing at the same time. What a wonder that is.
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Just my sincere thanks to all at the British Council and the BBC for the beautiful journey (both geographical and emotional) that I've been on. It's been amazing.