Theatricality

Are you struck by the general theatricality of special events – even everyday life? The thought occurred to me watching the recent Grand National at Aintree on TV. The action off the racecourse was just as telling as what was going on over the jumps.

Ladies Day at Aintree was characterised by some sharp dressing and several fabulous hats. We saw the great tradition of the Northern girls’ night out – or day and night out in this case.

An army of women was dolled up to the nines, champagnes flutes in hand, clutch bags at the ready. How much more costumed could the event be? How much more theatrical the occasion?

I mention this because our old friend Amanda Whittington was struck by the same thought – and wrote about it in her play Ladies’ Day, which we are doing here in early May.

In the play we see the transformation of Jan, Pearl, Linda and Shelly - girls from a Hull fish factory - into society girls, when Royal Ascot was relocated to York racecourse in 2005. 

The play is a fascinating culture-clash comedy of working class girls trading hairnets for fascinators and hobnobbing with the toffs. Clothes maketh the woman! 

But it’s not just special events: all this dressing up and parading is reminiscent of the early - evening strolling about you see in any Mediterranean town; that too is about the desire to see and be seen, and it’s an everyday occurrence. Of course the generally nice weather might have something to do with it too…

And think back to 19^th century novels: they often feature a scene about a night out at the theatre, though writers are usually less concerned with the action on stage that they are with the gathering of local society in its finery mainly to watch each other, admire a dress, flirt with admirers, have assignations with lovers or snare a husband or wife – and not necessarily in that order!

Whether that hectic social mingling goes on or not at the Coliseum, I am sure all the seeing and being seen has led to several romances and marriages.

Finery isn’t generally much in evidence these days, of course: people wear to the theatre clothes in which they feel comfortable. The days of wearing evening dress are thankfully long gone: you would look pretty silly turning up to one of our pantos in a tuxedo!

In a theatre like the Coliseum, it’s more about the play than it is the event. Which is perhaps the nicest compliment of all: people come comfortably dressed because they feel comfortable being there.

When the lights goes down and the curtain goes up, the theatricality is restricted to the stage – which is where many of us like it!