Space and direction allow a better view

Twenty-five million dollars, and all anyone will notice is the new chairs.

That is the joke Ford's Theatre director Paul Tetreault tells while leading a tour of the historic site and working theatre, which has just reopened after an extensive (and expensive) 18-month renovation.

Part of that upgrade included replacing the theatre's notoriously uncomfortable seats. The old ones — which Tetreault compares to 19th-century dining-room chairs — were rigid, straight-backed things with no arms and little padding.

For children and certain height-challenged patrons, they were so tall they blocked views of the stage. They had to go.

But that is hardly the only change or even the first one you will notice about the new and improved Ford's. For one thing, you can now find the place.

It is in the same spot it has always been, of course, on Washington's 10th Street NW between E and F streets. Just as it was on the fateful night of April 14, 1865, when president Abraham Lincoln was shot there, during a performance of Our American Cousin.

But the theatre's humble brick façade was always easy to miss. You might have walked by its plain wooden sign, thinking you had just passed the back of a church. Which is, in fact, what the building once was. It still has that vaguely ecclesiastical look.

My, how things have changed. Entry to the theatre is now through a spacious, contemporary lobby, situated just to the north of the historic building, on the ground floor of a neighbouring office development.

Crowning the lobby's glass windows is a polished steel marquee that makes Ford's look, at long last, like the living theatre it is, and not just a shrine to the dead.

Make no mistake: Tourists and school groups aren't going to stop coming to Ford's. They will continue to visit, just as they have since the late 1960s, when it reopened after a century of disuse.

They will snap pictures of the bunting-draped state box where Lincoln sat. And they will visit the museum on the theatre's lower level.

But for the first time, lovers of live theatre will discover a place that caters to modern needs and comfort, while respecting the sanctity of the past.

Caters, yes, but with a caveat.
Ford's occupies an unusual space, both literally and figuratively. As a historic site, it can't be messed with too much.

Those creamy white interior walls, for example. They are always going to be white. This, despite the fact that blinding-white paint makes it difficult, if not impossible, for lighting designers to achieve a complete blackout between scenes. Tetreault puts it this way:

“The first thing I always tell my directors and designers is this: ‘Here is the space. Do not fight it. Because if you fight it, you will lose.' The building always wins.''

Directors and designers will find new rigging, lighting and sound technology backstage. But some things haven't changed.

Take the raked stage. Its almost imperceptible downhill slope can make it tricky for dancers who don't want to tumble into the laps of front-row patrons.

But it is historically authentic. Offstage wing space for the actors is still claustrophobically tight.

“Believe me, backstage movement is choreographed as succinctly as it is choreographed onstage,'' Tetreault says. “We can't alter the footprint of the building.''

That doesn't mean he couldn't make a few other alterations.
When Tetreault was hired five years ago, after the death of the theatre's longtime producing director, Frankie Hewitt, he sat down with Ford's management team. “What are we missing?'' he asked.

On the wish list? You mean, other than new chairs? Well, to name a few things: a gift shop; an expanded lobby to replace the old, cramped one (little more than a hallway, really); more and better bathrooms; something to eat and drink during the intermission.

With this latest renovation, Tetreault says he got 85 per cent of what he wanted. Left out? A green room, or lounge, for actors when not needed on stage; on-site workshops for costume construction and set building; and dedicated rehearsal space. The only audience amenity he didn't get? A coat room.

What that means: We are the real winners here. Sure, the performers and backstage crew may still, in some small ways, have to cope with a theatre that is an artefact of the past. But for those of us out front in the seats, it is a whole new show.

Here is what you will find: