Beyond the Stage Door

In the menu of my website there is a link that leads to a placeholder page. Stage Door. It's where—

Keyholder: Excuse me. Since I'm the one with the keys?

Of course. Go ahead…

Keyholder: Well, first let me tell you a story. A story of a phone call that happened just a few years ago. Someone phoned you, didn't they? About a building.

Now, that's true. I remember.

Keyholder: A building. Empty. Disused.

Hmm, that phone call.

Keyholder: And asked you…?

They said, "What would you do with an empty church building?"

Keyholder: And you said…? I said, "Why? What building? Where?"

Keyholder: And they said…?

They said they were currently holding the keys but said I wouldn't definitely know the place. Down a side street the other side of town.

Keyholder: Did they tell you in the end?

Yep. Keyholder: And in that moment the blue touch paper was lit, wasn't it? Because down a side street the other side of town was…

…the church I started life in. Yes.

Key holder: Parents and grandparents. Memories, music, conversations, jumble sales, games, garden parties, processions, hymns, sermons, joy, Father Christmas, prize-giving, family. Even the cupboards and drawers you knew from being free to explore, with no one telling you not to.

You’re right. All kinds of memories and longing. The blue touch paper, lit. But not just the blue touch paper…

Keyholder: I know.

A really big fire. The whole building burned to the ground when I was twelve.

Keyholder: And you said all this on the phone?

I did. I was brimming over with it. Shocked, emotional, but full of ideas, passion, rekindled inspiration, and huge relief.

Keyholder: So you got to look around the place, and put all your ideas into action?

No. They changed the subject and wouldn't let me speak of it again.

Keyholder: Hmm.

Hmm indeed.

Keyholder: So then, as your website keyholder, am I anything to do with that?

Nah. Absolutely not. Nothing to do with that. Nothing at all. Hook me up to an inkblot test. Analyse me to your heart's content. This is completely different.

Keyholder: Oh, okay. And yet…

And yet… Yes, okay. You got me. The chance to revisit the question: "What would you do with a disused building down a side street on the other side of town?" But this time, the building isn't that one. It's more like how I remember the building feeling when I was five and it was the size of Scotland. Those same imaginative engines firing.

But, well, you're the keyholder. You tell us.

Keyholder: (Laughs.) Yes, I'll take it from here, now we've got that out in the open.

Inspire us. Get our imaginations going. I'll sit here and drink my tea.

Keyholder: I will. Down a side street on the other side of town there's a derelict building that's been handed over to this website for the foreseeable future. I have the keys.

I've been wandering around, and to be honest the building seems to have more doors than I have keys for. We've been sweeping around and pulling the dust sheets off — we, I mean me and the Architect. He's off for the moment. Actually he always seems to be off in a different direction.

But the good thing is he leaves his office open and he's more than happy for people to wander in and have a look at the plans on his desk.

Over the next few months we're going to be opening some of those doors, and events and opportunities will be happening — a whole programme of them. So watch this space, as they say.

I'd be interested in a tour, if that's on offer?

Keyholder: Of course. Just make your way to the Stage Door. I'll meet you there very soon…