“Nothing Dies”: Tamsin Kennard On Music, Memory And Meaning

At Theatre by the Lake in Keswick, we share more than what happens on stage. Our news brings you behind the scenes of our productions, introduces the artists we work with, and explores the ideas shaping our work across Cumbria and beyond…

For writer and composer Tamsin Kennard, the music of Lark Rise to Candleford isn’t just part of the storytelling, it is the storytelling. Because Tamsin creates both the text and the score, the two are deeply intertwined, allowing the emotional journey of the piece to unfold through song as much as through words. “I don’t really separate music and writing,” she explains. “They grow together, so the music is always carrying the narrative forward.”

At the heart of the production is a moment that feels especially personal to her, the final song, Nothing Dies.

“The line that repeats is ‘nothing dies that was ever loved,’” she says. “That feels like the essence of the piece for Laura, and for all of us.”

The song reflects one of the production’s central themes: how we live with loss, memory, and the people who shape us. “There’s something about the idea that nothing is ever truly gone,” Tamsin continues. “Whether you think about that emotionally, spiritually, or even scientifically, those connections remain.”

That quiet exploration of life and loss is woven throughout the show, often in unexpected ways. “There’s a real presence of death and memory in the story,” she says. “But not in a dark way in a way that makes it feel like a natural part of life.”

It’s this balance that often takes audiences by surprise. “It isn’t a story about loss,” adds Bryn Holding. “It’s a story about living. But the two have to sit side by side.”

For Tamsin, one of the most surprising elements is how different moments resonate with different people.

“You might expect one scene to land, but then it’s something quieter that catches you,” she reflects. “Sometimes it’s a relationship, or even just a single line.”

One such moment comes midway through the show, in a simple but powerful exchange between Laura and her brother Edmund. “He promises her a life full of books and treacle tart,” Bryn adds. “It’s such a small thing, but it’s about being truly seen by someone.”

And then, of course, there’s the ending. “The final storytelling always catches me,” says Tamsin. “Every time.” As the story draws to a close, what remains is not just nostalgia, but something deeper an understanding of love, memory, and what stays with us.

“It quietly strikes a chord,” she says. “Often when you’re not expecting it.”