The Ghost of Seat A5

By Mark Rosney

The UK has an amazing theatrical heritage. In every major town and city you will find at least one impressive Victorian or Edwardian theatre nestled in its very heart. Over the years, their stages have played host to the world’s finest performers delivering monumental performances, which have charged the very auditoriums with vast amounts of emotional energy. It is therefore no real surprise that most, if not all, the theatres that grace our small island are said to be haunted.

In my years as a lighting and sound engineer, I was fortunate enough to work in many of these amazing venues up and down the country. Without fail, every theatre I visited laid claim to its own resident ghost, or ghosts, that were seemingly doomed to spend eternity wandering around the aisles or lurking in the shadows backstage.

Whenever I visited a theatre for the first time, I always made time to speak to the resident staff; from usherettes to actors and stage technicians alike, to ask them about their own spooky encounters.

After a while, most of the stories relayed to me began to sound similar, with details so identical that it made me wonder if the tales were nothing more than urban myths that had been passed on from theatre to theatre. Indeed, if you visit only a dozen or so venues, you will come across at least one of these four familiar ghostly scenarios:

The Stagehand - who met with a fatal, and often gruesome, accident whose presence can still be seen and heard backstage, apparently still going about their earthly duties.

The Grey Lady – who is seen wandering around the stalls in an agitated state looking for someone or something.

The Edwardian Gentleman – who can sometimes be seen - but more often than not only heard - walking down the aisles, strolling with cane in hand, sometimes accompanied by a small crying child.

The ‘Haunted’ Seat - which appears to be the focus of the theatre’s paranormal activity, with accounts of staff and theatre goers alike, feeling cold and uneasy whilst sitting in them.

So what is really going on here? Is it possible that every theatre has copycat ghosts with no imagination or a limited haunting repertoire, or are they merely well travelled stories that take on a life of their own through a combination of overactive imaginations and fearful anticipation?

In some theatres the only ‘evidence’ in support of the activity is anecdotal, ie people relating their own experiences, which sadly lacks hard tangible evidence to support their claims. However, there are a few theatres around the country where there appears to be some historical corroboration.

One such venue, the Playhouse Theatre in Liverpool, (where all four of the above ghosts or effects are said to be resident), is one of them - and there is good historical evidence in support of some of the activity claimed to be experienced there.

In 1897, a stagehand called Elizabeth met with a horrible end whilst sweeping up on stage. The fire safety curtain (known as the ‘Iron’ in theatrical speak, due to the fact that they are constructed out of metal sheeting) came down unexpectedly and struck Elizabeth on the head, breaking her neck and knocking her into the orchestra pit where she died instantly.

Although her death was declared an accident, the safety curtain at that time was water powered and needed someone present to operate it. This fact was not satisfactorily investigated and consequently no-one was ever brought to task for causing the ‘accident’ to occur.

Ever since that fateful day in 1897, staff and public have reported seeing the ghost of Elizabeth walking around the stage and gallery level of the theatre. One of the most dramatic sightings occurred in 1996 when actress Pauline Daniels claimed to have seen a shabbily dressed Victorian lady slumped in seat A5, a place where many theatre goers had complained of feeling bitterly cold and/or had experienced feelings of dread or unease. Could this have been yet another sighting of Elizabeth? Pauline certainly seemed to think so.

Towards the end of the nineties, sightings of Elizabeth and spooky activity around seat A5 began to decline. That was, however, until the theatre closed for a major refit in 1999.

Whilst busy on the renovations, the contractors started to experience a number of odd things. The ‘unusual’ activity started off small, consisting of water taps turning themselves on in the toilets and the green room; and workmen’s tools began to disappear from the places they were put down just moments before, only to be found much later in the unlikeliest of locations.

As major changes began to be made to the fabric of the building, the activity intensified, so much so that the workmen eventually downed tools and refused to return until something had been done about it. One workman commented that ‘hearing the odd knock here and there was one thing, but hearing unearthly whispering, wailing and cries for help was something else altogether’.

The theatre was subsequently blessed by a local priest and work resumed. Although the activity had now reduced dramatically, there was still the odd instance of tools going missing and heavy fire doors opening and closing of their own accord.

Once the work was completed, the theatre opened its doors again to the general public - and activity around seat A5 increased. At the same time, the lesser reported apparitions of an elegant upper class woman wandering around the coffee bar, and the apparition of a gentleman dressed in a frock coat and top hat walking around the stalls, also became more frequent. It appeared that the renovations had stirred up more than just the old Victorian dust.

In 2003, I was fortunate (or unfortunate, depending upon your point of view) to be assigned seat A5 whilst going to see a play. Excitedly I decided to use this opportunity to conduct my own mini covert paranormal investigation.

Upon arrival in the theatre, I dashed into the auditorium and claimed my seat. Since I hadn't told my friends about what I was intending to do, they were a little bemused at my keenness to go and sit down.

Throughout the first half I sat with baited breath and waited for something spooky to happen. It didn’t.

During the second half, my mind drifted from ghostly matters to watching the actors, the set and the tech, all of which were superb. In no time at all I had completely forgotten about sitting in the spookiest part of the theatre as my full attention became focused on the play. That was, however, until I started to feel a slight vibration coming from the seat. Could this be the start of the activity, I wondered? I waited with anticipation. However, after a few seconds, I identified the source of the shaking. It turned out to be coming from a woman sat to my left in seat A4, who was shivering involuntarily and complaining of feeling bitterly cold, despite having her coat on and the theatre being exceptionally hot and stuffy. Had the ‘Ghost’ of Seat A5 migrated to the next seat along?

The woman and her partner didn’t last the second half, leaving with around 20 minutes of the play left to run. Since I hadn’t mentioned to the people I was with about my intentions to conduct a paranormal vigil in seat A5, I declined to move into the now vacant A4, but I did place my hand over the chair and experienced a momentary chill. Whether that was down to auto suggestion or a spooky encounter is something I have often wondered about, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t anything as intense as the experiences that others have so often reported.

I haven’t been back to the theatre since, but I have it on good authority that the various apparitions and spooky effects are still being experienced there on a fairly regular basis.

So, at the end of the day, are the theatre ghosts merely urban myths turned to reality by apprehension, or are they genuine paranormal experiences? Until someone can prove it irrefutably either way, to paraphrase a theatre maxim, “the spooky show must go on”.