It’s early evening in Oldham town centre and a group of teenagers can be found loitering outside the Coliseum. In good spirits and chatting amongst themselves, they’re shepherded through the ‘Coli’ doors and carefully guided past the merch stand and box office towards the stalls.
“Miss, you’re shouting,” says a lad from one of the school groups, before his teacher darts him a look, and with her eyes pleads with him to take his seat. “I’m not shouting,” she says in a hushed voice before shushing the rest of the group and breathing a sigh of relief as they finally comply.
They’re here to see theatre company ThickSkin’s production, ‘How Not To Drown’, a child asylum seeker’s harrowing true story of coming to the UK and his troubling experience with the British care system. Timely given the current political situation, it is also the last play to be performed on Oldham Coliseum’s stage.
Read more: The colossal battle over Oldham Coliseum and what happens next
Despite a passionate campaign backed by leading actors and residents to save it, the historic Fairbottom Street venue will lower its curtains for a final time next Friday. In November, it became the biggest theatre outside of London to lose its £600,000 Arts Council England (ACE) subsidy, in a funding shake-up that sent shockwaves through the arts community.
First it cancelled all upcoming shows including adaptations of 'I, Daniel Blake' and its annual pantomime, then it confirmed it had entered a consultation period with staff and would be closing for good at the end of March. Despite public meetings, petitions and appeals to the Arts Council, the venue has reached the end of the road in what is a devastating blow for theatre in the North and the people of Oldham.
“People have been asking me if they can buy pictures on the walls of famous stars who have performed here and there’s talk of selling some of the seats,” says Shelly Ramsdale, Oldham Coliseum’s Head of Marketing, as we talk backstage before the performance.
Tonight, the venue is packed out. “I think when people realised it was closing so soon, they wanted to come out and support us,” says Shelly. “It will be one of the last times that they can.”
The lights dim, and the sound of a foghorn and lapping waves fills the auditorium, as attention turns to the raised platform on the stage, a raft on an invisible expanse of water. We meet Dritan Kastrati as he and others play a game of cat and mouse by a river.
Aged just nine he has already witnessed the horrors of war - caught up in the Kosovan conflict, he and his family have seen it all - bloodshed, mass graves and a proliferation of weapons on their once safe streets.
Just two years later, he is sent on a perilous journey across the Adriatic with a gang of people smugglers to a new life in Europe. Here, he is forced to contend with the revolving doors of foster care, in a limbo land where he finds himself alone and untethered.
Performed by Kastrati himself alongside four others actors - Ajjaz Awad, Esme Bayley, Daniel Cahill and Sam Reuben - who play a range of roles including people smugglers, mafia bosses, foster carers and family members, it is timely, revealing and deeply moving.
Adapted and dramatised by Nicola McCartney from transcribed interviews conducted with Dritan about his own life story, it first debuted in 2019, and has deeply resonated with audiences across the UK. While Dritan came over to the UK in 2002, the play brings into sharp focus the current migrant crisis, and the importance of giving those with lived experience the chance to tell their story.
Daniel Cahill, who plays Dritan’s father in the play, fears that the loss of venues like Oldham Coliseum will mean political narratives will not be challenged. “Everywhere we’ve performed someone has come up to us and said how much this play has meant to them and made them think whether the portrayal in the news of such issues is correct,” he says as we catch up after the show.
“The fact that places like the Coliseum are being closed and opportunities to have these conversations in different communities are being removed is horrendous - it’s actually quite dangerous. The news is filtered in a certain way and you’re told what to think rather than watching an actual human being who has real life experience tell you what it’s like.
“You cannot argue with that. This place closing down, it’s a huge win for them and a huge loss for us.”
“This is what happens when you shut down culture, this is how it starts,” adds Dritan.
For the cast, the imminence of the Coliseum’s closure has weighed heavily on their minds during rehearsals this past week. “It was pretty surreal doing that monologue at the end where Dritan gets back home and we talk about derelict buildings and places not feeling like they once did,” says Sam Reuben.
“I got quite emotional because before I got on stage I looked at the walls and thought this might not be here in a year. This play is about Dritan and the topical themes it covers, but it also feels like it needs to be a celebration for people who love this theatre and who have been coming here for many years.”
They may just be stopping off at the Coliseum, but it’s clearly had an impact. "It's bittersweet because I grew up wondering if I would have the opportunity to play in these venues, so to play in one of the greats, it’s really sad to think no one else will get to do that again,” says Daniel. “However, it makes this performance so important and special, every word and every scene matters because it will be the last show to echo off the walls when the lights go out.”
As the play draws to a close with a heart-wrenching monologue from Dritan about not knowing where his home is and the lights come down on the stage, the audience rises from their seats to give the cast a standing ovation. “I was told there’s no audience like an Oldham audience,” smiles Daniel.
Unlike many theatres, where audience members are on the edge of their seats ready to dash to their cars as soon as the curtain drops, those who attend Oldham Coliseum’s productions, like to linger. On this occasion, some remain in their seats for a debrief, others head to the merch to pick up a programme as a memento, but most head to the bar.
“One of the first things that was said to us before coming here was the theatre may take a little longer to clear than you might be used to, because people are coming here to say goodbye to a place that has been part of their lives,” reflects Esme Bayley, as she and her fellow castmates enjoy a well deserved pint and slice of pizza.
As the cast continue to chat amongst themselves, staff members past and present fill the bar - something Shelly tells me is a common occurrence here at the Coliseum. “When I looked at how long people have worked here, the average length of service was nine years,” she explains.
“We’re not like other theatres where people move on every couple of years, we’re a family and even those who do leave, well they never really leave.” It’s a warming but deeply sad sentiment given that in a week’s time the curtain will have fallen for the last time, the lights switched off and the doors locked.
This may be the last play to be performed here at the Coliseum, but next Friday the curtains will fall one final time as the team here host 'Encore', a variety show of script-in-hand performances. Featuring scenes and songs from their favourite productions from the past decade, as Shelly says, "if we're going out, we're doing it our way".
The one-night only event spanning comedy, pantomime, and some very special guests, is a final opportunity to embrace 'Coli' and everything it means to Oldham. I'm certain there won't be an empty seat or a dry eye in the house.
Read more:
