Behind the scenes at the Tyne Theatre
BARBARA HODGSON TAKES IN A VERY UNUSUAL SHOW
OUR journey back in time began when we were invited to have a drink at the theatre bar before ‘1867.’
That was when we discovered there were just two other people to make up the audience for our promenade performance of 27 Productions’ intriguing-sounding show.
Admittedly there were plenty of audience slots to pick from – the week-long run had twice-daily showings until Sunday – but lack of numbers on my chosen evening was a shame.
Because this is a production which deserved a good turnout as you’re unlikely to have ever had a night at the theatre quite like it before.
While we were finishing our drinks, a man in period costume appeared.
We were not to mind him; he was just taking a seat to check through the theatre books, he said.
Next we were handed headsets to wear and so it all began.
What followed over the next hour or so was a fascinating journey through time and on foot that relived stand-out moments in the theatre’s colourful history.
We explored behind the scenes, checked out hidden spaces beneath the stage and traipsed up and down stairs, catching sight of fairy-lightdraped alcoves or characters from the past.
Taking its title from the year of the Tyne Theatre’s opening in Westgate Road, the show had been commissioned to celebrate its 150th birthday year and its proud history.
And we learned a lot as – with headsets in place – we had the voice of the theatre’s ghost Bob whispering in our ear, guiding us on our way.
There was no other guide, although we were accompanied by a lady who was there to ensure we didn’t take a wrong turn, hit our heads on low doorways or stumble down the narrow steps (this was not a show for anyone with mobility problems).
The headsets worked well – the sound quality was good and the voices we heard, accompanied by background chatter and music, evoked an atmosphere which bordered on the spooky at times.
We took them off at intervals en route when meeting characters that shaped the building’s story.
These included the determined manager – that first encounter – who had restored it as a theatre following its lengthy spell as a cinema, most famously Stoll Picture House; and a tragic leading lady who had collapsed and died during a festive run of Aladdin.
As we opened one door we “chanced” upon a performer getting ready for the spotlight; another time we eavesdropped on a snippet of a rehearsal for Macbeth. It was all fascinating stuff. Even if you knew the story of the 1985 Christmas Day fire which gutted the stage area (the auditorium thankfully preserved because somebody happened to pull down the safety curtain divider the night before), seeing the charred timber rafters high above the stage made an impact.
We also peered down at the depths below the stage and saw the original, still functioning Victorian rigging of pulleys, ropes and trap doors.
Who knew that even back in 1887 audiences were seeing shows here on an extraordinary scale, featuring the likes of horses and a huge ship which ‘sailed’ on thanks to the support of the reinforced stage? Or that one show alone kept a remarkable 190 stagehands busy behind the scenes?
From a short screening of blackand-white footage of a former stage star, to the actors telling their true stories, the production brought alive the past drama and tragedy – and comedy too in the shape of a seen-itall stagehand.
My favourite moments were spine-tingling ones: when we are on stage as the safety curtain slowly rose to give us first sight of that gold and glittering auditorium.
After that, there was the chance to take a seat in the deserted body of the theatre as the lights dimmed and our ears filled with the voice of Placido Domingo, who famously sang on the very stage before us.
This was a show that had to be experienced.
I enjoyed it so much I’d have liked it to go on longer and I would also like to have seen more (upstairs perhaps) of what is a beautiful theatre.