Birth pangs of a theatre

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32636, 18 June 1971, Page 5

Birth pangs of a theatre

(By

YVETTE BROMLEY)

Like most mothers, I say “Never again.” But, I suppose, when the memory of the agonies of the last few months has mercifully been forgotten or dimmed by the passing of time, I shall look back on our struggles with fond nostalgia. It seemed quite simple at first: just a question of , enthusiasm, dedication, patience and luck. But actu-; ally none of these qualities are worth- a tin of beans against one’s knowledge and understanding of local by-laws and the working of the minds of civil servants. The only real fact one must assimilate is that no-one, but no-one, will make a decision. So one accepts compromise, ambiguities, half-truths and expediencies, And, miraculously, one receives permits to do this and have that, to be this, to say that, to make : this and to work that. EMERGENCE The actual play in production disappears under a mor- I

ass of papers, insurance coverages, tax demands, equity payments, fire board requirements, egress officers, health inspectors, Ministry of Works investigations, earthquake risks, the signing of leases, and the obtaining of a telephone and a box number. When the snow of paper has settled, miracle of miracles, one is “The Court.” Bloody but unbowed one turns one’s mind to the task originally set—many, many light years ago—to start a professional theatre in Christchurch. “The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie” was bom amid this plethora of paper work and, in spite of it, was a resounding success. But The Provincial Chambers, where we had hoped to stage our plays, proved too costly. It was rather like trying to run a pop festival at Bucklingham Palace. Too many officials breathing down one’s neck and too mqch valuable property that might get irreparably damaged. One moved about with felted breath, feeling the ghost of Christchurch’s past looking over one’s shoulder and frowning at what it saw. In terms of cold hard facts, it cost us $450 for four weeks in fireman’s and custodians’ fees alone.

MERRY-GO-ROUND Rehearsals had been going on in an adjacent building (the Durham Street Art Gallery) destined to be bulldozed next year but still housing the Christchurch School of Music and Saturday morning art classes. We moved in, we took over, and the whole brouhaha started again. Away we went on the merry-go-round of health inspectors, egress officers the lot.

This time, the pyramid

reached Wellington before we received final permission to start a production so here we are, albeit on borrowed time. But the bulldozer might break down ... or perhaps they won’t get permission either. Our next production will be a grim and terrible play called “The Sleepers’ Den.” It will haunt and torment our audiences, but people love being harrowed, don’t they? And if you want to know my advice about starting a professional theatre: think twice, then join a badminton club.