In pictures: We go behind the scenes of Royal Lyceum’s Snow Queen

It is just before 12.30 in the afternoon at the Royal Lyceum Theatre in Edinburgh and the cast of The Snow Queen are on stage chanting “Eee eee eee eee …”

In 90 minutes the curtain will rise for the Saturday matinee performance, but right now the actors are still dressed in their civvies – T-shirts, trainers, leggings. Some 15 minutes ago they started their day with stretching exercises. Now – as it’s a musical show – they’re warming up their voices.

And so 11 people on stage are making noises in unison. “Gee, gee, gee. Goo, goo, goo …”

At some point they begin to notice that the screens in the balconies that provide subtitles for the audience are repeating the noises they’re making. “Goo, goo, goo. Gaa, gaa, gaa …”

© Andrew Cawley

Phones come out, pictures are taken and cast and subtitles continue in tandem for a minute or two until the invisible subtitler throws in a random “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerych- wyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.”

Rather than attempt to get their tongues around the longest place name in the UK, the cast laugh and then start reciting “I saw Suzie sitting in a shoe shine shop” over and over again, getting faster and faster and faster.

Soon, the theatre will be full of little girls in sparkly dresses, little boys primed to cheer, doting parents (some wearing unicorn horns) and grandparents all ready to enjoy the Christmas show.

The actors will spend two hours running off and on stage, changing costumes, singing songs and telling jokes as the story takes us on a journey from Edinburgh to the Snow Queen’s icy palace and back.

The Snow Queen on stage

This adaptation of the classic Hans Christian Andersen fairytale has been given a Scottish makeover by writer Morna Young, director Cora Bissett, designer Emily James and composer Finn Anderson.

What began as an idea before Covid is now a reality – an all-singing, all-dancing festive treat, performed twice a day most days for the rest of the month (including school shows).

As Richard Conlon, who plays the show-stealing Hamish the Unicorn notes: “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

But what keeps The Snow Queen on track? Once the script has been written, the rehearsals are out of the way, those first-night nerves have passed, what does it take to maintain a frantic, busy show like this?

The answer, it seems, is ginger shots, early(ish) nights and a lot of laundry.

© Andrew Cawley

This Saturday afternoon, The Sunday Post has been invited backstage at the Lyceum. For all the fun the cast are clearly having in the warm-ups this is also a place of work.

When I’m joined by Richard, Rosie Graham, who plays our heroine Gerda, and Snow Queen Claire Dargo, they are quick to say that the busy schedule means they have to pace themselves.

“You’ve got to be quite sensible between the shows,” reckons Rosie. “I’ll have one drink with my gran and then I’ll go home.”

Rosie is a fresh-faced 23-year-old. It’s her birthday on December 29. “I’ll be playing a 12-year-old on my 24th birthday,” she says, laughing. “This is my third ever theatre job. It’s a great job for me. Such an amazing part.”

But, she adds: “You really have to take care of yourself. You have to sustain your voice.”

So, at the start of every day, she takes a ginger shot. She says: “It clears your throat and gives you energy.”

© Andrew Cawley

Two shows a day for a month is demanding, they all admit. “I have random bruises. All over. It’s very physical,” says Rosie.

“You do lose a lot of weight,” adds Claire. “And your liver thanks you for it. Dry January will not be happening for me.”

And if they are under the weather, “Doctor Theatre” will come to their aid. Once the curtain rises any illnesses or injuries miraculously disappear for the length of the show.

“I’ve had a terrible cold for the last week,” says Richard. “The audience wouldn’t know, but I’m offstage hacking up a lung. When you go on stage you don’t cough.”

A Christmas show

This is Claire’s first Christmas show for 13 years. She admits: “I just decided it’s too much hard work. Why would you put yourself through that again?” Yet here she is. “I thought it would be good,” she says.

It is good, but it’s also hard work. “The first half is crazy,” suggests Antony Strachan who plays five different roles. “For the first few shows it was me running about going, ‘What’s next?’”

That’s where the costume department plays its part.

He adds: “They’re constantly there for me, getting me changed, putting me in trousers, chucking shoes on me. For the first few runs when I didn’t know what I was doing it was Costume going, ‘You’re going into Troll. You’re going into Flower…’”

© Andrew Cawley

In the “quick change room” behind the stage, Christine Dove, one half of Costume, is dressed in black and getting ready to work. Having originally worked on The Snow Queen as costume supervisor, organising the making of all the outfits, she has now taken over “running wardrobe.” What does Christine do once the show begins?

She says: “I am backstage changing everyone. There are two of us, I’m taking over today. It’s my first day doing it.”

She doesn’t look too nervous.

Christine’s job doesn’t end when the show does. She also has to make sure all the costumes stay in good nick for the entire run.

She adds: “They’re fairly roughly handled, especially in the quick changes. We try to make them as sturdy as possible. Everything breaks at some point. When I was in Claire’s dressing room earlier I was sewing on a button that had fallen off.”

Christine also has to keep them clean. She says: “Every day we’ll do a full laundry. It takes three or four hours. When it’s a two o’clock show like today we’re in at 10am.”

At 1.50pm, I make my way to the side of the stage where Claire Williamson is at the Prompt Desk. She is stage-managing this show. Which means? “I’m telling everybody when to go,” she says simply.

© Andrew Cawley

In the dark it’s hard to see how large the crew is, but there are as many people behind the scenes as there are onstage, Claire explains. As well as her fellow stage manager, Katy Steele, there’s a lighting operator, an audio-visual operator, a sound operator and a handful of stage hands – including a couple “on the fly floor” (above the stage) – to move scenery around.

Once the show begins, Claire is working flat-out. She says: “It doesn’t stop. I think in the whole show I have two pages that don’t have cues. Other than that I’m talking the whole time. There are 81 pages, 79 with cues.”

That’s not normal?

“You can be doing some shows and you can go 10 pages without a cue,” she says. In The Snow Queen, though, there are not many breaks. “Thirty-seven minutes in, I can finally take a drink of water.”

Taking to the stage

Five minutes before the show begins the actors begin to gather at the side of the stage. There’s a smell of Deep Heat and menthol. “Stand by cast and Wendy,” Claire says over comms to Wendy Seager, the first actor onto the stage.

“See you on the other side,” Wendy says to nobody and everybody as the curtain rises.

The next hour backstage is almost as frantic as what’s happening onstage. Actors come and go, change costumes and then wait for their next cue. Claire’s voice is constant. “Alex, cue 4. Alex, cue 5. Alex, cue 6 and the glitter drop… Go.”

Some 37 minutes in she does get her drink of water.

One hectic hour later the curtain falls on the first act and everyone takes a breath for a moment. “Alex was doing a lot of work,” I say to Claire.

She replies: “Not Alex, LX. For lighting. Now we have to clear up the snow.”

© Andrew Cawley

There’s another hour of the show to go and then the audience will leave happy, the actors will relax and the backstage crew will get ready for the next performance just a few hours away.

The show goes on. The show always goes on. Until December 31 anyway.

And on January 1? What will the Snow Queen be doing the day after the last show? “Sleeping,” Claire Dargo says with a smile.

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The Snow Queen continues at the Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh until December 31. Visit lyceum.org.uk