Theatre UK – The Telegraph

There are a variety of reasons for this. Most unexpected, in a way, is the audience esprit de corps. The British, notoriously, don’t chat to people they don’t know. But when you find yourself obliged to clamber repeatedly over the same patient sets of knees as you make your way to your allotted place in the commodious Barbican sweep of brown velvet seats (their comfort pointedly contrasted, in a jolly post-production Q&A with the cast of Richard II, with the frightful backstage privations – not so much as a handy loo, according to the Duke of Norfolk), even the most taciturn find themselves inexorably drawn into the powerful, if fleeting, solidarity of shared adversity.



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