A beautifully crafted set, excellent acting and my Dad on stage; all the ingredients for a fantastic play! And what was I thinking? – That the lighting cue was late. Sitting in the Todmorden Hippodrome Theatre I am watching The Enigma Code, a gripping play not only about a war against Germany but the stigma against homosexuality. My father is playing one of the leading roles. | "Once involved in the Theatre it runs in your blood...It is tremendous fun and I miss it everyday." | | Vikkie |
Unfortunately, after working behind the scenes at the theatre, I can no longer leave that part of me behind. Being quite a perfectionist I point out the little mistakes that the ordinary audience would not notice instead of marvelling at my dad’s first major part. I started work at the theatre when I was fourteen, first with the little things such as painting and building parts of the set. I then moved up to working behind the lighting desk. The first production I was left to run by myself was the panto for Robin Hood. I could not believe somebody trusted me to run the hundreds of lights involved, making sure they came on when the were supposed to, hoping they did not fall on the actors or burn a hole in the colour gels, especially for such a popular production. After weeks of rehearsal I sat nervously watching everybody filing in, hoping that I would not plunge them all into darkness. As the curtain flew to the heavens so did my heart rate. Concentrating intensely on the script I managed to hit all my cues in the right place.
 | | The Enigma machine |
By the finale my lighting desk had become my ‘little baby’ and although I had loved every minute, I was glad that I could breathe again. After being away from the hustle and bustle of behind-the-scenes for nearly three years I still itch to be back up behind my lighting desk (even though it is not mine anymore) instead of in the circle as part of the audience. However, to compensate I could watch my father perform. The Enigma Code went down well with the audience. It was strange to see my Dad as a slick-haired, arrogant, 1940s police officer. But when he came to the front of the stage to take a bow, I clapped as hard as I could so that, hopefully, he could hear me over everyone else. I was extremely proud of him and I suggest to anyone to become involved in some kind of theatre, be it helping backstage or being on the stage itself. Once involved in the theatre it runs in your blood. You cannot help but notice the mistakes that the technical staff hoped they had got away with. It is tremendous fun and I miss it every day. | 
