The strange experience of theatregoing on the possible eve of darkness | Theatre
Until a few days ago, I had a diary rammed with first nights. This week was non-stop theatre every night: a sprint finish to the festive down-tooling.
Wednesday evening was supposed to be the press night for Hex, Rufus Norris’s musical retelling of Sleeping Beauty at the National Theatre. And then it wasn’t, due to Covid. Other official opening nights fell in what seemed like a horrible game of skittles, from Moulin Rouge to Force Majeure – some of the most hyped shows of the year. Suddenly, my sprint became a crawl.
Then a glimmer of hope on Wednesday afternoon with a phone call from the Almeida theatre. Did I want to come to see their musical revival of Spring Awakening – based on Frank Wedekind’s 1891 play – two nights before press night? You know, just in case …?
Everyone in the production had tested negative that day, explained the press officer, and it hit me then how the industry was once again forced to live by the day and the moment.
I embraced the moment too, of course. A friend I was supposed to meet for dinner said she didn’t feel safe sitting in an auditorium that wasn’t socially distanced. Her words worried me enough to run to my nearest walk-in centre, which was operating with such military efficiency that I was boosted less than 30 minutes later and felt immediately safer, if only in spirit for now.
I was pleased but also surprised to see the auditorium so full. I had received an email hours earlier with a reminder to wear a mask and take a lateral flow test. Stewards asked us to keep our masks on, in a very different tone to what I’d come to expect across venues. This was a polite but strenuous order and everyone, as far as I could see, obeyed.
Alongside the undertow of a vague anxiety – perhaps nervousness mixed with a gritty resolve to keep congregating in this way – there was palpable relief as the doors shut and the lights dipped. All of us, with barely an empty seat between us, had made it in, just before the prospect of a more dreadful impending darkness across the industry. If this was the end of days – so soon? All over again? – we were going down to song and dance.
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