On any given evening, just as it’s dropping dark, you’ll often find me sitting on a bus somewhere near Wakefield, or just outside of Barnsley, with a packed tea in tow and staring at my phone to make sure I get off at the right stop. I’ll be on my way to a Red Ladder Local gig, in a town or suburb that – without this job – I’d probably have never heard of, so sadly wouldn’t have been to.

Which tells you a lot about Red Ladder Local, and why it’s so important. If we’re in Leeds, and it takes me two trains and a bus to get there – then it’s taking someone who lives there a bus and two trains to get to us. And that’s before you’ve considered how expensive theatre tickets can be, and how unreliable public transport is (big shout out to Northern Rail!).

Some of the most special theatrical experiences I’ve had have been at the brilliant venues we work with to bring performances and arts participation directly to local communities. Take the utterly gorgeous love-letter to life ‘The Light House’ by Alys Williams. I attended at The Grove Hall in South Kirkby, where we’re supported by the indefatigable Charlie Robinson, who knows the community like the back of his hand and is full of great ideas.

Charlie thought to invite along the local Andy’s Man Club, who filled up the dreaded front row for us, and threw themselves into the show’s audience participation. Chatting to the members afterwards was completely heart-warming; one guy excitedly told me how he was going to book to see the show again in Wakefield. Another opened up about how much he connected with the play, and saw his own experiences represented.

The Light House (c) Ant Robling

Another personal favourite is when we brought ‘Coming Out of my Cage’ (yes, it is a show about Mr Brightside) to The Gate at Belle Isle Tenant Management Organisation in South Leeds. The show had sold out at the Edinburgh Fringe, and I was so excited to bring it to BITMO. The Belle Isle-ites, always game for a laugh, were the perfect audience and got right onboard with the silliness, including answering the phone to Destiny and getting up for a boogie at the end. One woman said that this was her first trip out since major brain surgery – that she wasn’t going to come, but was so glad that she did.

I am consistently inspired by the willingness of our audiences to take a punt on a piece of new writing. Over the next few months, we’ve put together a bit of a ‘Queer Ladder’ season, starting off with Dead Girls Rising (from Queer-led Silent Uproar), followed by ‘BI-TOPIA’ by Sam Danson, and ‘Me For You’ from Rachel E. Thorn. Each show is fresh, exciting, and brings something to the circuit that hasn’t been seen before – selected with the input of our fantastic venue hosts, who pick performances for their communities based on pitches from artists.

‘We’re Not Going Back’ (c) Ant Robling

I think it’s the intimacy of these spaces, and the sense of ownership the audience has over their environment, that makes each performance so special. It feels a bit like performing in someone’s living room, even when the capacity is 100+, and there’s a level of openness and comfortability in this that means we can explore a really vast array of topics. I think that’s dead thrilling, and I cannot wait to get back on the circuit this Summer (even if it takes me two trains and a bus to get there).

By Alice Barber