For the benefit of anyone who’s been living in a cave for the past few weeks, last Wednesday was the 200th birthday of the Theatre Royal, and to mark the occasion a street party was held in New Road, marking both the theatre’s bicentennial and the road’s reopening. Not only was the party free, but you weren’t expected to bring a bottle, so naturally I went along.
Upon arrival I discovered that the event was actually a triple celebration: it was also the mayor’s birthday, and she’d turned up early to accept presents and open the proceedings. First up was a bit of jive dancing with the Ragroof Theatre company, and needless to say Carole was straight in there like... well, like a mayor at a photo opportunity. I watched her boogying for a while - just long enough to get an unflattering photo of myself in the following day’s Argus - then decided to take my one-man show to the stage of the Theatre Royal.
There were a number of fringe events taking place in the area that afternoon, ranging from storytelling at the museum to lectures at the library and music in the Pavilion Gardens. The costumed Pavilion tour sounded interesting: they were promising to “show people what it was like to visit the impressive palace as a guest of the Prince Regent in its 19th-century heyday”. So presumably they feed you until you're morbidly obese, get you drunk, and won't let you leave til you're hooked on laudanum. It sounded intriguing, but it wasn’t free, so I passed on that and headed instead for the backstage tour of the Theatre Royal.
The trouble with free events is that they attract crowds, but having to stand for twenty minutes in the queue for the tour meant I was able to browse the birthday cards stuck to a pinboard in the foyer. They featured personal messages (and scrawled signatures) from such theatrical luminaries as Timothy West, Wendy Craig and Prunella Scales, although my personal favourite was from Nicholas Parsons, who'd bought a blank card, opened it backwards, and written his message upside down.
It has to be said that my fellow tourists were not the most sprightly bunch, and having been asked to climb a flight of about three stairs at the start of our backstage tour, half the group started complaining about their knees. But undeterred, our tour guide took us on a fifteen minute jaunt around the theatre, during which time she filled us in on the history of the place, covering such topics as the various ghosts said to haunt the stalls, and explaining why it’s bad luck to whistle in a theatre. Apparently it was the signal used by stagehands to communicate with each other, meaning that if you whistle as you’re crossing the stage, you’re liable to get a piece of scenery dropped on your head.
Keeping my mouth firmly closed, I took my chance to stand on the grand old stage of the Theatre Royal - boards which have been trod by Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud and, for that week only, Dean Gaffney. I also sat in the royal box, in the very chair occupied by the Queen during her visit in March. I could have sworn it was still warm.
Back outside the theatre, I followed signs to the 'Free Tour of the Dome', heading through the stage door at the back and straight onto the concert hall stage. This was the venue for Abba's victory in the 1974 Eurovision Song Contest, but gazing out over the empty auditorium, it looked more like they were holding a Rik Waller concert. The advertised 'tour' turned out to be no more than a chance to stand on the stage for ten minutes listening to a potted history of the place, before being ushered out of the same door through which I'd entered. The guide talked a lot about the Dome's great acoustics, and sure enough, I heard every word.
Outside again, I ended my afternoon with a walk through the Pavilion Gardens, where I watched the Brighton & Hove Music and Performing Arts String Ensemble. They were described in Thursday’s Argus as “a string quartet”, which is interesting as there were five of them plus a xylophonist. I expect two of them had gone to lunch when the reporter arrived. The group played a variety of music, all of which was very impressive, but oddly they didn’t perform the one piece which seemed most appropriate: ‘Happy Birthday’. Maybe it doesn’t work on the xylophone.
