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Feb 2, 2010: Drinking problems: why can't you get a decent
glass of wine at the theatre?
Many theatregoers love it, the great 18th-century actor David Garrick even used to sell it ... So why is the booze sold in theatres usually so undrinkable? I love theatre. I love wine. But I hate what passes for wine in theatre. It's a common scenario – you've negotiated the scrum at the bar and returned triumphant to your seat, only to discover you've paid the best part of a tenner for a glass of vinegary Ribena. The odd thing is that the quality of wine seems to be in direct and inverse proportion to the amount you've paid for your ticket. I've had decent glasses in pub theatres and subsidised venues, but the commercial West End? Forget it. Time after time, I'm disappointed – occasionally disgusted – by the wine in our leading theatres. It is an enduring mystery to me that despite playing to a demographic you'd expect to be wine-lovers, West End theatres persist in selling plonk no one who had any choice in the matter would drink. It makes no sense. If theatre-goers know they can get a good glass of booze, they'll get there early and part with more cash on site. Otherwise – as I find myself doing more and more – they'll just go to a nearby bar and arrive in time for curtain-up. All of the theatres I can think of that actually serve a decent glass of wine are outside the West End. The Old Vic has a pretty good selection, and whenever I visit the Royal Court I always arrive early for a glass of wine in the bar. But the only theatre I can think of that really excels in its wine offering is the Courtyard theatre in Hoxton. It offers a fabulous selection of Italian wines that I've never seen anywhere else. (Unfortunately, the quality of what's on stage is a little more variable than the quality of what's in your glass, but that's a different debate.)
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Not too long ago, I remember actually being unable to finish a glass I bought at the Garrick theatre – an irony given that David Garrick, the man after whom the theatre is named, came to London as a wine merchant before turning to acting. And Garrick isn't the only historic link between the two trades. Bacchus, after all, was the Greek god of theatre, as well as wine. More recently, I went to see Oliver! at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane and ordered a glass of Merlot. The kindly barmaid shook her head with a grimace and said "I wouldn't do that", before suggesting I plump for the more palatable Rioja. To be fair to her, it was fine, if not particularly inspiring. Still, a bit of an embarrassment when you have to warn people off something you're meant to be trying to sell. I pick out those two examples, but really, this could apply to any West End venue. Bearing in mind that most of them are owned by chains, one would have thought that economies of scale would mean they could offer better wines than the single operators on the fringe and in subsidised theatres. Instead they seem intent on selling the cheapest stuff possible for as much as they can get away with. Often, for a small glass – I say glass, but of course I mean plastic cup – you're paying double what a full bottle would be worth. At a time when the West End's ageing theatres are already lagging behind in terms of cost, comfort and accessibility, surely this is an area in which they should be able to excel. The theatre experience does not begin and end on stage, as Bacchus would agree. Alistair Smith / Guardian
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1/2/2010 Για παλαιότερες δημοσιεύσεις κάντε κλικ εδώ. |
