Celebrate the Lawrence Batley Theatre's history and untold stories with poet, Rose Condo

Oh hello!
You’re here
You’ve returned
It’s been many months
I was quite concerned
What a joy to have people in my midst
Oh how I’ve missed you
Oh the ages I’ve been through
But here I am looking shiny and new
And here you are reminding me
I’ve much more work to do
Look around at the bricks and mortar of my place
My north wing
My south wing
My centre building
Hold you in architectural embrace
I hope you’re sitting comfortably in this courtyard space
I want to tell you the story of how I came to be
Look back with me
Look up to my top lean your heads and tilt
Those numbers mean 1819
The year that I was born and built

CHAPTER ONE: 1819 - THE CHAPEL

Reverent resplendent and grand
I was the largest Methodist Chapel in all the land
I held space for the devoted to congregate
Felt the majesty of organ music resonate
The joy of prayer and hymn and praise
Rang through me in voices raised
I heard their pleas their cries their words
I sensed their spirits move and stir
Within me worshipped people of
Great faith and mercy and of love

CHAPTER TWO: 1830 - THE CATACOMBS

These sacred scenes above the ground
Were only part of what was found
Contained in me for in my depths
I was filled with bones and death
Concealed below in catacombs
I held those dear departed souls
Bodies lay in my vaulted crypt
My cellar home for whence they’d slipped
From their earthly mortal coil
To return to dust and clay and soil

CHAPTER THREE: 1906 - THE WAYWARD WOMEN

My once glorified purposes and aims
Evolved as my walls and rooms became
A space for so-called wayward women
To seek sanctuary -- I had a new mission
To shelter these women as they brought forth new lives
In me echoed the agonizing cries
Of women who bore the weight and cost
Of being abandoned unwanted and lost
I held them nurtured their strength to cope
In me they found help and hope

CHAPTER FOUR: 1970 - DERELICT

Then came a time I did not expect
When all who had lived in me just left
I was vacant empty lifeless
I felt on the brink of an identity crisis
I was no longer a place of worship or praise
Not a shelter nor a refuge
For a time each day
Passed as a slow and anxious burden
Wondering at my future
My worth uncertain

I was vacant empty lifeless
I felt on the brink of an identity crisis

Each day passed
As a slow and anxious burden
Wondering at my future
My worth uncertain

I was vacant empty lifeless
I felt on the brink of an identity crisis

Each day passed
As a slow and anxious burden
Wondering at my future
My worth uncertain

CHAPTER FIVE: 1972 - ARTS CENTRE

Fear not my friends this affliction did not last
For I was soon suddenly cast
Into the limelight as a centre for the arts
All parts of me became alive with commotion
I was full to bursting with creative emotion
I was filled with all new sights and sounds
Farewell Queen Street Chapel
I was now crowned
The Queen Street Arts Centre
A community theatre for
The Huddersfield Thespians amongst many more
Dancers, singers actors on stage to be seen
Voices raised in chorus singing God Save the Queen

CHAPTER SIX: 1975 - THE CATACOMBS CELLAR CLUB

The new life in me continued to abound
As I sensed a new stirring in my underground
Had the souls in my depths come back from the dead
No
Not ghosts
Not spirits
Instead
A vibrant nightlife in my catacombs
Filled with music beats and souls
Slicked with sweat and scented with beer
A throbbing pulsating atmosphere
Young love
Young lust
Young folks on the pull
Kept me wild and rowdy and awake and full

CHAPTER SEVEN: RESTAURANT

My riotous debauchery was an absolute blast
But that decadent depravity just couldn’t last
And once again I found myself cast
Into a new role more mature and refined
I became The Ridings where people dined
Where once solemn organ music had filled the air
I was now scented with culinary flair
Wine glasses clinked and dishes clattered
With intoxicating aromas of gourmet platters

CHAPTER EIGHT: SQUASH CLUB

Yes me, the dame of Queen Street all spruced up
I also became -- would you believe -- a squash club
That’s right -- squash -- the game of rackets and balls
Played on athletic courts -- not at all
What I was originally designed and built for
But oh I was bursting with activity once more
Smacks of rackets
Striking balls
Smashed service to corners of glass walled
Courts echoing shouts and jeers
And matches played to roars and cheers

CHAPTER NINE: 1980 - CLOSED

Despite their efforts to grow and thrive
Alas these ventures did not survive
With dinner menus up and tables still set
They just one day locked up and left
Left empty alone abandoned once more
I thought … I have faced this before
For a time I sat patiently waiting
Hoping longing anticipating
That I’d be occupied again soon one day
But I felt myself begin to decay
Felt weeds sprout and spread
Felt insects creeping
Felt rain leak and ooze down my walls seeping
Through cracks on my crumbling stones
Felt damp and unclean
Felt black mould grow

Deserted and rotting
Unwanted unloved
Hadn’t I once been full of
Music and praise and merriment and mirth
Hadn’t I once been a home for birth

Haunted by silent memories of when I was great
Now forsaken and left to deteriorate
Left to grieve the greatness I’d known
Left ignored invisible cold and alone

CHAPTER TEN: 1994 - OPENING

I sat in this mournful resignation for years
Tormented by ongoing fears
That I would one day be torn down
But it turns out that this town
Had other plans for me
I began to hear and see
People move through my decay and dust
Catching words about Kirklees Theatre Trust
Making monumental efforts to save
Me from ruin
These people gave
Me new life
My new purpose was forged
As I was cleared out repaired restored
To even more than my former glory
My story prevails thanks to pride and innovation
My structure endures as a place for inspiration
I am a site where the arts can thrive
I am renewed reborn alive
Raise a glass have a dance in my courtyard space
Let me relish in your radiance here in my embrace