Let's Talk About Rotherham. (Even Though We Don't Want To.)
When The Theatre Establishment Fails A Poor And Troubled Community
So Thursday night I let myself into my mum’s house after a trip to York which included an evening performance of Noises Off at the Theatre Royal.
I found her sitting in the living room with a bloodstained and very professional-looking bandage wrapped round her leg.
My first, horrified understanding was that she’d been attacked by a dog. The reality was less dramatic. Visiting a friend’s house for tea and cakes (my mother and her social circle eat a lot of cake), she’d fallen victim to the attentions of a boisterous puppy.
The sharp-clawed puppy wasn’t to know that my mum is on anti-coagulants, or that she rarely wears tights. (At 91 years old, it’s not worth the bother of getting them on.)
Fortunately, one of her regular cake-eating cronies is an ex-nurse. So the correct First Aid was applied promptly and efficiently. But the blood had leaked through the bandage — slasher movie quantities of blood were generated if my mum’s account of the incident was accurate — and it all looked very nasty to me.
Even if I hadn’t been intending to stay over at her house, it would have been necessary to change my plans. And even as I’m writing this, I have half an ear tuned in for the possible phone call from a neighbour to tell me events have eventuated and can I run her to the hospital.
But she seems all right now. The wound hasn’t reopened and she was happy enough to be left to her own devices with Escape To The Country on the telly and a stack of Miss Read novels. The puppy, which belonged to the granddaughter of the lady who was hosting the tea party, is fine too.
Meanwhile, what did you think of the play, Mrs Lincoln? I’m glad I went. It’s the Sistene Chapel ceiling of theatrical farces — the one which changed the game and to which all others aspire. The revolving set for Michael Frayn’s satirical play-within-a-play was a well-judged compendium of illogical set design — multiple doors that didn’t make much architectural sense and access to the kitchen seemingly via the garden.
The physically courageous company, directed by Lindsay Posner, were equal to the split-second timing and placement of props upon which this clever — and underlying it all, desperately sad — comedy depends. There were moments when I laughed so much I felt hot, faint and nauseous. And the memory of actress Lisa Goddard’s Dotty picking prickly cactus spines out of Simon Shepherd’s ample, pompous, director’s bottom in enforced backstage silence will stay with me for a long time.
Actress Lucy Robinson brought realistic warmth to the role of Belinda Blair, the kindly trouper determined against all odds to keep the show on track. This was badly needed in a play which, in its keenness to lay bare human folly, lacks heart. I did, however, decide that Matthew Kelly was miscast. His solid bulk — his presence — played against an unpredictable character whose most obvious characteristic is his absence — physical, mental and emotional. And he wasn’t above twinkling rogueishly. Tonight, plus Sheffield Theatres, Nov 28-Dec 2, £15-£45, and nationally
No Pasaran!
And now for something very serious.
Access to culture in Yorkshire is not evenly distributed. The 2021 census recorded the ancient city of York as being pop. 202,800. It has two mainstages, the glorious Theatre Royal which creates many inhouse productions and the Grand Opera House which is part of Ambassador Group and gets top-notch touring shows. The theatre@41 does small-scale and quirky (such as this week’s White Rabbit, Red Rabbit, Nov 7-11, £10), the Joseph Rowntree is a vibrant venue run by volunteers. There’s also the Early Music Centre, the York St John University theatre, Friargate Theatre and a performance space at the CityScreen Arts Cinema.
The population of the industrial town of Rotherham in South Yorkshire is 265,800. It has Rotherham Civic Theatre and… no, that’s more or less it. A converted church which offers a professional panto every year (bought in from Imagine) but otherwise a bleak diet dominated by tribute shows and unadventurous amdram companies.
I’m not blaming anyone for this. I’ve spoken to venue managers over the years, from Damian Cruden, the former artistic director of York Theatre Royal to Chris Jones who delivers a — literally — world class programme at the tiny Selby Town Hall. I know that audiences don’t build themselves. It takes a committed venue manager decades to create a venue that looks and feels like the beating heart of a community. You need personal resiliance in the face of adversity and confidence that local council leaders and elected politicians have your back.
Rotherham Metropolitan Borough Council, which also appoints members to the South Yorkshire Police And Crime Panel, was so dire — its response to the Rotherham child sex abuse scandal so evasive and inadquate — that in 2015 Eric Pickles, the bluff Yorkshireman who was then Secretary Of State For Local Communities And Government, took the rare step of bringing it under central government control. Full democracy was only restored in 2019, a few months before the Pandemic.
And whereas nearby Doncaster has developed a partnership between CAST and London’s National Theatre, and Wakefield is the base for both the sophisticated Hepworth Gallery and the renowned John Godber Company which partners with the Frank Matcham-designed Wakefield Theatre Royal, Rotherham has almost nothing. In arts infrastructure terms it’s like Haiti after the earthquake. It regularly features in popular lists of the Top 10 worst places to live in the UK (usually in the Top One).
And how has Yorkshire’s brave and radical theatre-making community risen to this challenge? Well, frankly, it hasn’t. The town, as might be predicted when a child grooming gang is exposed in which the perpetrators were from one ethnic group and the victims from another, has rancid racial politics. The white community feels angry, ignored, neglected (which it is) whilst innocent Muslim women and girls have the hijabs torn from their heads. Neither communities are being well-served by their creative environments; no-one will touch Rotherham with a barge-pole. And, despite some efforts in that direction by the ever-conscientious BBC, as far as I can see not a single Rotherham child sex abuse drama has yet reached the stage. Any stage, let alone a main stage. It’s dog-whistle politics, you see, and not a terrible thing involving 1,400 children that actually happened here.
It is in this social context that Karen Mulcahey of Break Out Arts is attempting to make theatre. The Lions Of Rotherham at Rotherham College Studio is an original drama which tells the true story of four local men who fought against fascism in the Spanish Civil War. It is based on detailed research and the young actors are all early-career professionals. Although on one level it’s a perfectly unexceptional local history drama, on another it’s a bleedin’ miracle — and it’s noticeable she got the money to do it from the Heritage Fund and not the Arts Council, who have gone missing in action. Support her if you can by calling 07947961284 to reserve tickets. Or, you can pay cash only at the door. Nov 8 & 9, £5.
parler femme
And now for a happier tale of things done right.
Tala Lee-Turton is a British Chinese ballet dancer who was only the third British female dancer to graduate from the Bolshoi Ballet Company. She comes from Barnsley (adjacent to Rotherham) and thence she has returned with her own dance company. She divides her time between London and Sheffield, creating multi-disciplinary works led by females. Parler femme is a dance-based triple bill consisting of some short dance films, the premiere of a dance and music duet and a comic five-dancer ballet. Some performances are rounded off with a Q&A session. Stanley & Audrey Burton Theatre, Leeds (world premiere), Nov 9, £5 & £22, Playhouse, Sheffield Theatres, Nov 11, phone for returns, Elsecar Ironworks, Barnsley, Nov 16, £12.
The View From Above (Online Performance)
There’s hope to be found, too, in Charlie Cattrall’s digital drama The View From Above. Ostensibly hosted by stage@leeds, it has been developed specifically for online streaming and — oh joy of joys — challenges the politics and violence of contemporary storytelling. As someone who finds excessive screen violence upsetting, I think this scrutiny is long overdue. The cast features Gráinne O’Mahony (SCRUM), Sanee Raval (I May Destroy You), Ruth Everett (RSC), Jerry Killick (Forced Entertainment) and Kulvinder Ghir (Goodness Gracious Me; Blinded by the Light), and proceeds go to human rights organisation Reprieve, which amongst other things campaigns to prevent children in Egypt from facing the death penalty. Nov 2-18, pay what you can
And Then There Were None
And as if to illustrate perfectly another aspect of this debate, Agatha Christie’s classic crime drama, directed by Lucy Bailey, reaches Sheffield this week as part of its UK tour. It’s the one where 10 strangers are marooned on an island off the coast of Devon. A bloodbath ensues but it’s all very Art Deco — in a Lord Of The Flies sort of way. Sheffield Lyceum, Nov 7-11, £15-£45, Grand Opera House, York, Nov 21-25, £13-£65.
Beowulf
The Old English tale of Beowulf too is pretty violent — but sanctified by age and poetry. Probably written in East Anglia in the 7th century, this magnificent work of literature is strongly influenced by Norse sagas. Yorkshire, part of the old Danelaw, is England’s Viking Central. The village where I live with the harsh and splendidly unpronounceable name of Hemingbrough — outsiders always get it wrong — is likely a Viking settlement, as are nearby Skipwith and Thorganby.
In a site-specific event created for Kirklees Year of Music 2023, Proper Job Theatre Company in collaboration with popular poet and broadcaster Ian McMillan have adapted the epic. The performance starts at the Byram Arcade, Westgate, Huddersfield and moves to St Peter’s Church where choirs sing an original composition. Nov 8-11, phone for returns
The Social Model… & More
And I must not neglect the disability arts festival at Sheffield’s Theatre Deli. The social model of disability views the issue as one of barriers in society. A gammy leg is not a problem if there are no awkward steps and stairs.
There is clearly something in this but the model also raises more questions than it answers in the world of disabled rights. The Social Model… &More Festival showcases a range of disabled artists, and hosts workshops and debates. Nov 8-25, prices vary. Please note some of the events take place at Theatre Deli’s London venue.
High Times And Dirty Monsters at Leeds Playhouse covers pretty much the same ground — this time in collaboration with 20 Stories High Theatre company and disability arts specialists Graeae. Nov 9-11, £15 & £20, plus nationally
Paid Subscription Option
Finally, you may or may not have noticed that last month I very quietly switched on the paid subscriber option for Yorkshire Theatre Newsletter. This was my cautious ‘soft launch’ to test out the software. When someone opts for a paid subscription I know nothing about them except their email address and the last four digits of their credit or debit card. But here’s an educated guess at first names. Thank you so much to Don, Paddy, Steve and Jane. Your paid subscription means a lot to me, and this week I spent some of it on the No Pasaran! image, as Karen’s tight budget doesn’t run to professional production photography that would level the marketing playing field a bit.
I'm so pleased that Mums leg is OK and wasn't as serious as you first thought.
'Noises off'... was sad to have missed this but it sounds great.