Pits, People and Players

You won’t find plush velvet seats here. Nor the genteel hum of the crush bar before curtain up. In Horden, a raw former mining town scoured by the North Sea wind, theatre exists on its own terms.

[Ensemble 84], a new company set up last October in Horden’s Methodist Chapel, is all about grassroots culture. Initially envisaged as part of County Durham’s 2025 City of Culture bid, it survived the decision to give Bradford the prize. That kind of “gonna do it anyway” attitude informs the whole ethos.

Even before you get inside, the atmosphere is different. With little free space in the chapel, the queue runs down the street. Theatre-going chat is drowned out by shrieks of boozy laughter from the Victory Club over the road. It’s visible in the auditorium, all scaffold poles and planks of wood, with 70 stacking chairs lined up to accommodate guests.

Crucially, it’s locked into the actors. From day one, the vision was to find potential talent from Horden and the surrounding area. Previous experience not required, full training provided, but only if you live in County Durham or just over the borders in Hartlepool or Sunderland. It’s a model that director Mark Dornford-May previously used to huge effect in Cape Town, where his Isango Ensemble became a transformational force in a city with one of the world’s highest murder rates.

Despite decades of neglect, Horden and the wider East Durham region doesn’t have the same level of trauma; nonetheless on Saturday night there’s a rush of police cars heading to an incident in a nearby industrial estate. The numbered streets remain a byword for post-industrial decline, the town’s newest public sculpture, Marra, shows a miner with his heart ripped out, indicative of the struggles of a community savaged by the loss of its raison d’etre. But this is also a community determined not to be defined by negative headlines.

So, on this particular Saturday night, there’s also a revisit of that history. Composed from scratch in just a month, Pits, People and Players celebrates the 125th anniversary of the sinking of the coal mine and the rise and fall of a flagship pit that fell silent after the bitter struggle of the 1984/85 Miner’s Strike.

On the face of it, that’s a familiar tale of industrial woe. And yes, the tragedies and triumphs are all present and correct: a rollcall of those killed in the mine, the proud record of 6,75 8tons of coal extracted in a single day – a record that endured for 30 years despite rapid post-war mechanisation. Strikes, strife, solidarity and discord all feature in a whistle-stop, 90-minute tour of community history. Plus, inevitably, a solo trumpet to evoke the brass band tradition with verses of Gresford or Close the Coalhouse Door. Jodie Nicholson’s selection of music is held together by a slice of pseudo-folk, a melody that could accompany a twee, rustic tale but instead is pressed into the industrial world.

But it manages to be more. A tight-knit ensemble cast brings real verve to the performance, injecting life into what might be mired in cliché. The show is loud, apologetic, a minimal staging punctuated by the bangs and crashes, the grinding gravel of heavy industry. And, while there’s space for stats and familiar stories, they take second billing behind the human story of a community. This is where the political becomes personal – sardonic asides about how history runs in cycles raise knowing smiles, but the emotional punch stems from the depiction of ordinary people leading their lives in between the loud pronouncements of war and peace, nationalisation and badly-managed decline.

If there’s a weakness, it lies in the conclusion. By halting the story with the demolition of the pit in 1989, the play skips over a quarter of Horden’s 125-year history. As a coda, contemporary statements of hope and belief in a brighter future take Marra and transform him from funereal monument to trailblazer. But, at the same time, the conclusion risks reinforcing the sense that Horden is defined by a past that is over rather than a future that – thanks to Ensemble 84 and others – is starting to rise.

But that’s a minor quibble. When Ensemble 84 was first announced in summer 2024, my greatest hope was that it would find a way to deliver something that was unapologetically of its place. Not a tame, tummy-tickled display of northeastern life to amuse broadsheet newspaper critics but a raw, perhaps uncomfortable view from communities left behind. Pits, People and Players goes a long way to delivering that vision.

Ensemble 84’s debut production, a take on Brecht’s Mother Courage, transfers to Newcastle’s Live Theatre in October. Tickets available here.

For other Horden-related stories, check out:

• Sporting Welfare , a visit to Horden Community Welfare FC;
• an interview with Horden-born photographer and filmmaker Carl Joyce;
• a run around Cotsford Fields parkrun.