Intimate or uncomfortable? Rebecca Ryan (Beth) and Daniel Mays (Aiden) in Scarborough at the Royal Court Upstairs. Photograph: Tristram Kenton
In the Royal Court's staging of Fiona Evans' Scarborough, which is set in a seaside B&B, there is no conventional seating. The performance space has been completely transformed into a hotel room. Audience members perch on whatever spare surface they can find: on the window sill, on a chest of drawers, or simply on the floor.
Curiosity about this unusual use of the space was one of the main reasons I was keen to see the piece; watching other people's reactions as they arrived, it was clear that others didn't share my enthusiasm. I was particularly aware of a man who spent the first half leaning awkwardly on a sideboard, looking distinctly uncomfortable throughout. He didn't return after the interval.
The Royal Court press office points out that audiences are warned about the unusual set-up when they book by phone, adding that "people are generally quite chivalrous about offering their seat, on a window ledge or wherever, to somebody who looks like they need it".
But I know a number of people who would be put off seeing a production if they knew a comfortable seat wasn't on the cards. A friend with arthritic knees, who is a keen theatregoer, has a policy of avoiding any production involving long periods of standing or sitting on the floor. This is a shame when so much of the most exciting work around at the moment involves inventive use of space.
By its very nature, Punchdrunk's The Masque of the Red Death makes physical demands of its audience and the press office at the BAC admit that "in the design of a labyrinthine 19th-century town hall, wheelchair accessibility was not possibly the major priority and when using the full extent of that space some places have unfortunately been rendered pretty inaccessible for those who aren't able-bodied". A stairlift has, however, been specifically fitted for the show and a lift allows people to reach the grand hall where the finale takes place. BAC are also taking onboard all the accessibility issues opened up by the production for future development of the building.
Lyn Gardner recently blogged about the production of Peter Handke's The Hour We Knew Nothing of Each Other, wishing the National had been braver in the way they approached the material, and taken it outside and allowed it to bleed into the city. It's a sentiment I agree with, in principle, but I do wonder how much of the audience would be left behind in the process.
Obviously accessibility in conventional theatre spaces isn't a problem that's been adequately resolved. Far from it. But the more adventurous a production, the more problems it poses in terms of being accessible to all those wanting to experience it. Is this just a trade-off we have to accept? That theatre that attempts to go in new directions isn't going to be able to take everyone along for the ride? Or do accessibility issues have a tendency to become sidelined when attempting to push back creative boundaries?
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