Shot through with drama
Tedd George’s father was the man behind Sheffield’s Crucible. He talks to Phil Penfold about his dad, the creation of a theatrical institution and the photos he discovered after his death.
TEDD George’s relationship with the Crucible Theatre started not long after he was born. It is captured in a charming family snap. Mum and dad with their two young daughters, all leaning slightly forward into what looks like a rather large, old-fashioned, laundry basket. Sitting inside, and looking just a little bewildered, is a very young baby, well-wrapped up – even if the date of the photograph is the summer of 1972.
Tedd, now 50 and a writer, publisher, consultant, creator and podcaster, with two youngsters of his own, reveals that it is all part of an old theatre tradition. “It was taken in Sheffield on the stage of the Crucible Theatre, where my late father Colin was artistic director,” he says. “The story goes that the actor Wilfred Brambell was in the city, touring with a show called
The Late Christopher Bean – Wilfred was one half of Steptoe and Son and he was being interviewed by a journalist from the Post.
“My mother had just arrived from London, with my sisters, and Wilfred immediately asked mum and dad if I was going to be given a tradition theatrical christening. Dad didn’t know what that involved, so Wilfred immediately located a wicker skip – the sort that costumes are stored in – and I was put inside, and the whole thing was dragged across the stage. The tradition apparently confers great success not only for the child, but also for the venue. Modesty prevents me from venturing any thoughts on what I may have achieved, but the Crucible is a national phenomenon.”
When Tedd’s father died a few years ago, he discovered that he had left a treasure trove of information about one of the greatest times of his life – the planning and creation of the
‘He was a man of wonderful ideas and it’s an indication of his strength of character that nearly all of them came to fruition.’
Crucible, now one of the foremost producing houses of Europe.
“There were boxes everywhere, 30 or 40 of them,” he recalls. “There were diaries, notes for speeches, the musings of a director, call sheets, plans, diagrams, architectural drawings. And, above all, there was the core of a book that my father had been commissioned to write about the genesis of the Crucible, and the extraordinary story of how it came to be. Dad had done most of the work, but it needed a little reorganisation, and some parts needed amplification. I thought to myself: ‘Well, I’ll get round to it….I just need the time, and heaven knows when that will be’.”
Covid and lockdown provided that time. What was devastating for so many was Tedd’s golden opportunity, and became an awardwinning volume that bursts with theatrical history and information, a book that isn’t just about a theatre, but about social history, the people of a proud city, and the characters who created a venue that is unique.
There simply is no other theatre like the Crucible. Colin and Tedd’s book is an open, warts and all, revelation of how the theatre came to be, and it is full of unexpected stories. Before the Crucible there was the much-loved (but woefully inadequate) Playhouse. Colin was one of the first directors in the UK to see the importance of taking theatre into local schools, and he created Theatre Vanguard specifically for that purpose. One of the five performers in that first troupe was one-time drama teacher Dorothy Vernon. She became a key player on the main stage, and also Tedd’s mother.
But, believes Tedd, it was a performance in a Sheffield school that became the “light-bulb moment” for his father. “He went in to the assembly hall, wherever it was being performed, and all he saw was a flat floor, with several dozen chairs placed in rows – but only on three sides. This, I think, was the point when he started to think about what was to be the Crucible’s seating configuration, a thrust stage.
“It’s interesting that the Crucible today still do amazing and highly original outreach work in their communities. My father would have been so pleased that the theatre would be regarded as such a focal point of the city.”
The idea of the “thrust” stage didn’t find much favour with some of the illustrious actors of the day. Three Knights of the Realm
– Sir Laurence Olivier, Sir Bernard Miles and Sir John Clements – were vehemently against them. Why would any audience want to see the rest of the audience over the way, and not be concentrating on the actors? Their theatrical descendant Sir Ian McKellen vehemently disagrees with the trio, and says that “the
work onstage in Sheffield and around the city makes the initial disapproval of its architecture seem more misguided than ever”.
Colin was to come under the spell of Sir Tyrone Guthrie, one of the greatest theatre directors of the last century who had a passion for the thrust configuration. Guthrie worked hand in hand with the legendary designer Tanya Moiseiwitsch, and she too was a great influence on Colin, and, indeed designed several of the productions in the Crucible when it finally threw its doors open to audiences.
There was little that would stump his father, a man, says Tedd, who was loved by all who worked with him. “When he was committed to something, he gave it his all. People adored him because he was so dedicated. He was a man of wonderful ideas and it’s an indication of his strength of character that nearly all of them came to fruition.”
Colin was very seldom lost for an answer, but one of the classic moments (Tedd says: “I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall”) was when he and his colleagues had a scheduled meeting at the Town Hall, to discuss ways in which the old Playhouse could better serve the community. They were ushered into the Council Chamber, and there, sitting on what Colin later described as “a throne” was “a formidable Northern lady”. She was Alderman Grace Tebbutt, a former Lord Mayor, and the very first female leader of the city council.
Alderman Tebbutt was not one for mucking about. She looked directly at Colin, and dropped her bombshell. He reports that she said: “Nah then, where do you want your new theatre?” It later became clear that discussions had been going on in secret for some time, and the council leaders had determined that if Coventry and Nottingham and a few other rival cities such as Leeds and Birmingham could build – or be planning – “state of the art” performance spaces, then Sheffield wasn’t going to be left behind.
“My father was clearly taken aback, but he wasn’t left speechless for long,” adds Tedd, “because he quickly gathered his composure, and replied that he wasn’t wanting just one theatre – he wanted two. The main auditorium, and another studio space. The request was determined in the architectural plans.”
Going through Colin’s records and archives was “a very emotional experience” for Tedd, who is delighted that his father’s pioneering spirit still flourishes at the Crucible.
“One of the best examples is that the theatre is so great at producing plays which are entirely relevant to the city and its place in South Yorkshire. Dad directed what was to be the first of these, The Stirrings in Sheffield, which was an instant hit, and revived again to huge audiences.
“The tradition continues. I recently went to see Standing at the Sky’s Edge at the National, with the entire production transferred from Sheffield. It’s all about the city, and its sense of place. The London audience stood and cheered it to the rafters. They ‘got’ what it was all about.
“I came up to see Rock/Paper/Scissors by Chris Bush. Three plays, one cast, in three venues – the Crucible auditorium, the studio space and the Lyceum – played in whatever order you had booked your tickets. All relevant, brilliantly played and written. A triumph of theatrical ingenuity and innovation. I think that Dad would have thoroughly approved. His pioneering spirit lives on, it really does!”