2 weeks Ago By Susan Morrison
Our seats were in the Dress Circle, which sounded terribly posh. I had terrible visions of us being turned away because I had forgotten to put on my floor length frock and fox fur stole. Not a bit of it.
The Festival Theatre staff are young and funky and just clearly delighted to be working in the middle of a theatre that was bursting at the seams. The big buzzy audience wore what they pleased. Once there was a feeling that going to some theatres demanded, well, a bit of theatre.
Audiences would put on the Ritz, just to sit in the seats. I’m told that people dress up to go to the opera in London . Well, if you’ve spaffed that amount of money on a ticket to hear a soprano belting out a ten minute aria about her impending death from consumption, despite the fact that she clearly has the lung capacity of a blue whale, then you probably get to pull on the fancy togs.
Yes, you’ve guessed, not an opera fan, me. All welcome at the Festival, no matter what you wore. The snobbish days are over.
Oh, there are some little echoes of all theatre’s faintly fancy past. That name, Dress Circle, above the common stalls, for the frock-and-dinner-suit set. Even the snacks.
Must be honest, I do like my popcorn at the cinema. But I’d never dream of looking for a bucket of fresh-popped salted at the theatre. Odd, that.
A wee tub of artisan ice-cream is more the order of the day. Now, I would at this point urge you all to go and see what is an incredible piece of theatre. David Hayman as the worn-out salesman and Beth Marshall as his wife led a stunning cast that left us weeping for Willie Loman at the end.
But sadly, my friends, you have missed the ticket bus. This show sold out and deservedly so. It was a wonderful evening in a warmly welcoming theatre.
Nah, they don’t need popcorn..
