Derby Theatre Community Celebration Day

Derby Theatre turning fifty feels like one of those milestones that deserves more than a polite toast and a commemorative brochure, and happily, that is not what happened here. Instead, the theatre threw its doors open for a community celebration day that invited Derby inside not just as an audience, but as the entertainment itself. Live music spilt through the foyer, performances took over the main stage, fashion made an appearance (because why not?), and the whole building buzzed with the feeling that this was less a birthday party and more a family reunion. Programmed by the Derby Theatre Communities Steering Group, the event was one of several celebrations marking the theatre’s half-century, and perhaps the most fitting: a reminder that this building has always been about people.

Before anyone made it into the auditorium, the foyer had become its own mini festival, welcoming singers, rappers, DJs, and performers of various stripes to warm up the crowd. I’ll be the first to admit that not all of the music was to my personal taste (as a theatre reviewer, my natural habitat is dialogue and characterisation rather than dirty basslines), but live performance has a way of disarming even the most stubborn preferences. There is something deeply persuasive about watching someone existing in their own artistry. You may not “get it” immediately, but you recognise the craft, like admiring cubism through Renaissance-tinted spectacles. More importantly, I could feel the pride of a local scene being given a platform.

That sense of cultural breadth followed us into the main theatre itself, where the audience was welcomed not by silence or a tannoy announcement, but by music. Two flute players and an astonishingly assured 13-year-old drummer performed cultural pieces as people took their seats. It felt less like settling in for a show and more like being gently ushered into a shared moment. By the time the lights shifted and the main stage came alive, the audience was already warmed up, smiling, and ready to be entertained.

Our hosts for the evening, Paul Broesmith and Dave Powell, arrived armed with clipboards and a sense of duty, giving off strong “Derby answer to Ant and Dec” energy. They may not possess the camp bravado of a Stephen Mulhern-style compère, but what they lacked in razzmatazz they made up for in reliability. In a show packed with performers of wildly different disciplines, that steady hand on the tiller was quietly invaluable.

The variety performances themselves were where the heart of the celebration really beat. Opening the evening was Willow Mallard, whose original song declared his defiance of conformity as a rock star. The piece bore more than a passing resemblance to Tim Minchin’s “Darkside,” with piano riffs and comic beats that clearly nodded to the Australian comic musician. That said, there’s something quite charming about seeing influences worn so openly. Mallard’s performance felt like a young artist testing out the shape of his voice, both musically and comedically, and while the echoes of Minchin were clear, the confidence to stand alone on stage and own that inspiration was commendable.

From there, the evening moved fluidly between styles, genres, and energies. Comedian and actress Jessi Bates-McIntyre was, without question, a standout. She strode onto the stage with the kind of command that suggests not just experience, but trust in her own instincts. Whether the audience was primed for comedy or settling into a Sunday evening mindset didn’t seem to faze her. She read the room expertly, flexing her material to meet the crowd where they were. Her routine about her first boyfriend meeting her Glaswegian father was a particular triumph, delivered with impeccable timing and a camp clumsiness that doubled the already generous laughs-per-minute ratio. Bates-McIntyre has that rare ability to make chaos feel choreographed, and I left desperate to see what a full, unabridged set from her might look like.

Music returned to the spotlight with Lilly Foo-Black, who walked on stage with an ease that instantly signalled confidence, and her interpretation of Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” held the audience in a collective breath. The latter, belted notes revealed a real sense of star power, and it was impossible not to view her performance through a theatrical lens, imagining how this voice might soar in a musical context with the right director to hand. At just nineteen, Foo-Black is clearly at the beginning of a journey that feels destined to expand rapidly.

Rapper D’Qube brought a different, equally compelling energy to the stage. While some lyrics were lost in the acoustics, the storytelling came through loud and clear in his passionate delivery. He used the space confidently, connected with the audience, and made his performance feel immediate and personal. In a similar vein, Kelvin Ossai (introduced affectionately as “the singing nurse”) shared two original songs that were uplifting and warmly received. Ossai’s performance was warmly endearing, his songs were musically pleasing, emotionally generous, and clearly enjoyed by the audience, who responded in kind.

Dance was represented by two contrasting but equally engaging acts. Infinity Flow, a four-piece street-dance group, radiated joy. Their smiles were infectious, their energy boundless, and while not every move landed perfectly in sync, the sheer pleasure they took in performing more than compensated. The audience doesn’t need clinical precision when performers are clearly having the time of their lives. Taste of Cairo followed, a five-piece belly-dancing troupe performing traditional Egyptian dances in traditional dress. Their performance felt like a genuine celebration of cultural exchange, offering the audience a vivid glimpse into another tradition; a sweet taste of Cairo, without the inconvenience of ancient curses or mummies.

Gospel Train lived up to their name with a six-piece a cappella performance steeped in African-inspired harmonies. When gospel harmonies hit, they hit hard, and there were several moments here that delivered genuine goosebumps. At times, the group’s enthusiasm tipped them just out of cohesion, but even that felt like a by-product of joy rather than a flaw. With a little shaping and direction, this group could harness its collective power even more effectively.

Closing the variety section were SoulM8s, a four-piece family band from the Philippines, performing a Bruno Mars number. The opening moments were a little shaky, but as the song progressed, something clicked. The band gelled, the nerves melted away, and what emerged was a performance full of warmth and musicality. Whether they’ll follow in the footsteps of family bands like Hanson, The Osmonds, or The Nolans remains to be seen, but their enthusiasm and cohesion made for a joyful finale.

Beyond the stage, the celebration spilt back into the foyer, where drinks flowed, conversations buzzed, and a fashion show added another unexpected layer to the day. It all felt wonderfully creative, communal, and human. This wasn’t about perfection; it was about participation.

As a marker of Derby Theatre’s fiftieth anniversary, the community celebration day succeeded not by looking back, but by showing what the future can look like when a theatre truly belongs to its people. If this is the spirit carrying Derby Theatre into 2026, then there is plenty to be excited about, not least upcoming productions of Macbeth and Little Shop of Horrors. Fifty years in, and the theatre feels very much alive.