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Henry VI - The Houses of York and Lancaster

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 13 Jul

Henry VI - The True Tragedy of the Duke of York

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 13 Jul

Alice In Wonderland The Musical

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 29 Jun

The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs

Wed 05 Jun

Henry VI - The Houses of York and Lancaster

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 13 Jul

Henry VI - The True Tragedy of the Duke of York

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 13 Jul

Alice In Wonderland The Musical

Wed 26 Jun - Sat 29 Jun

Script Factor All Winners Final

Tue 02 Jul

Confessions Of A Rabbi's Daughter

Sun 28 Jul

Script Factor All Winners Final

Tue 02 Jul

Play Reading Circle - September

Wed 04 Sep

Play Reading Circle - November

Wed 13 Nov

Play Reading Circle - December

Wed 11 Dec

May Play in a Day - The Myths of Mother Shipton

Thu 30 May

May Play in a Day - The Myths of Mother Shipton

Thu 30 May

Behind the Stage Door: Exploring York Theatre Royal Part II

Tue 23 Oct 2012

In part I of the Exploring York Theatre Royal series, the first act of the theatre’s history was played out as naughty nuns and innovative thespians set the stage for York Theatre Royal’s beginnings. Now, as we move deeper into the theatre, it’s time to lay aside the medieval history textbooks and turn our attention to the nitty gritty world of acting and performance. For away from the bright lights of the stage, a whole myriad of spaces and hide-outs open up, riddled with the history of theatre.

As I move from the world of the audience into that of the backstage, my tour guide Abbi Wright reveals the stage dock. A vast space of high ceilings, buzzing with the sound of theatre-making in progress, cluttered with beds and boards and tools and costumes, the stage dock is a treasure trove of items, a kind of theatrical workshop where the props wait in anticipation of their moment to come alive on stage. In the far corner of the stage dock sits the worn gateway between the theatrical and the real, the door to the outside world through which all scenery must be squeezed and pushed and dismantled to set up home in the backstage space. Yet, once upon time, it was more than props that came charging through that door. Also known as the gallery, this door became in Victorian times the entrance to the (cheapo) gallery seats, saving the rich nobility from having to mingle with the plebs as they wafted their way into the main entrance.

In the opposite corner of the stage dock, a tunnel leads the way into another tale of the history’s past. Leading into what is now an office block, this tunnel was once the passageway to the bedroom and sitting room of one of the theatre’s most successful and eccentric managers, Tate Wilkinson. Taking the helm of the theatre in 1766, Wilkinson reinvented this theatre, granting the building a royal patent in 1769 and renaming the building York Theatre Royal. Building the prestige of the theatre to rival that of the London theatres, Wilkinson attracted to the theatre some of the biggest names of the day including Sarah Siddons and John Philip Kemble and sealed on the building the everlasting stamp of a national reputation. An impassioned theatre zealot renowned for his quirky ways, Wilkinson quite literally made the stage his home, hiding cakes and chocolate treats in different crevices of the stage dock just for the sheer pleasure of re-discovering them at a later date- an idea that should definitely be reinstated!

And whilst today's props and the sets would certainly look more than foreign to Mr Wilkinson, it seems that the stage dock itself still bears a strong resemblance to the spaces of yesteryear. For unlike modern theatres such as the National, York Theatre Royal still sticks to tradition in the way of backstage management. Having ignored the electronic renaissance that hit most theatres, today curtain closures, scene changes and flying appearances on stage occur not from a click of a button but from the hard efforts of the strong backstage crew who operate a traditional counter-weight system to achieve the dramatic theatrical effects.

Yet, this rest with the past is not overly unusual with the theatre, as Abbi tells me, with the majority of theatre terminology and techniques sticking to its original roots- bizarrely enough with the sea. For at the time of the Victorians, the labourers thought to be perfectly suited to the work of the theatre were hulky, strong and disciplined sailors and hence nautical terminology became buried into the language of the theatre from ‘stage docks’, to ‘lighting rigs’ to ‘backstage crew’.

Indeed a seaman’s superstition still pervades the theatre today with a strict no whistling policy often enforced in many backstage spaces. A health and safety rule of the Victorian age, whistling became synonymous with bad luck. This stems from a time when sailors would whistle on board a ship to warn of dropping something down into the sea. A whistle on the stage could therefore mean a drop of heavy scenery on a rather unfortunate actor’s head. So next time you’re thinking of whipping out your Bing Crosby whistling impression in the theatre, think of the old superstition that could see an actor meet one very dramatic finale!

Read the article on The Yorker website.