
By Grace Hatchell
When people think about theatre, they usually picture the big names.
The West End. National tours. Famous actors. Opening nights. Red carpets.
And don’t get me wrong, I love all of that.
But theatre doesn’t begin there.
It begins in church halls where someone is still painting scenery the night before opening.
It begins in community centres where rehearsals somehow survive around football practice, shift work and someone’s holiday to Benidorm.
It begins in drama schools where students are discovering who they are, one rehearsal at a time.
It begins with youth theatres, amateur dramatic societies, local musical groups and volunteers who somehow manage to build an entire set with three tins of paint, a borrowed ladder and what can only be described as blind optimism.
That’s theatre too.
In fact, it’s where many of our best performers started.
Every famous actor once stood on a small stage wondering whether anyone would clap.
Every director had a first rehearsal.
Every lighting technician had to learn which button definitely wasn’t the blackout.
Grassroots theatre isn’t trying to compete with professional theatre.
It doesn’t need to.
At Theatre Village, we want to celebrate all of it.
Professional productions.
Touring companies.
Regional theatres.
Drama schools.
Youth theatre.
Community theatre.
Amateur dramatics.
Because every one of them helps keep theatre alive.
So if you’re part of an amateur dramatic society, a community theatre, a local theatre company, a drama school or a youth theatre group, please don’t think your story isn’t important enough.
It is.
Send us your press releases.
Tell us about your productions.
Share your photographs.
Introduce us to your performers.
Celebrate your volunteers.
Let us know about your awards, your fundraising, your festivals and your opening nights.
Because somewhere, someone is looking for their next theatre trip.
And it might just be to your show.
Grace says…
Some of the loudest applause I’ve ever heard wasn’t for a celebrity. It was for someone’s dad who’d just remembered all his lines after insisting for six weeks he was going to forget them. That’s theatre. And honestly, I wouldn’t swap that feeling for all the red carpets in the world.


