Backstage at the Floral: What I Got Wrong, and Why This Theatre Matters More Than Ever

There’s a particular kind of regret that sets in when you realise you’ve been part of the problem. And that’s exactly what hit me when I re-read my article Side-Lined by the Sea and spotted the line that claimed the Floral Pavilion “runs at a multi-million-pound annual loss, propped up by public subsidy.”

It was a line written in haste, dropped in among a 5,000-word argument about New Brighton’s place in Wirral’s regeneration story. But that doesn’t excuse it. It was inaccurate. And worse — it repeated the kind of vague, hand-waving claim I usually rail against. I didn’t question it. I didn’t source it. I just passed it along.

So this piece is a correction. But it’s more than that. It’s also a reflection on how these stories get twisted, who benefits when they do, and why the Floral Pavilion is, in fact, one of the most important — and most misunderstood — assets New Brighton has.

Walking In, Not Just Reading About It

She left Wirral for the West End at 18 but now wants 'to give something back' (Image: Andrew Teebay Liverpool Echo)

Last week, I arranged to visit the Floral Pavilion in person — to see what I’d missed, to ask questions directly, and, above all, to listen.

I was welcomed by Pauline Campbell, the Venue Manager, and David MacKenzie, who oversees Theatre, Catering and Hospitality. We sat down for what was meant to be a quick chat and turned into a conversation that ran long over a couple of hours, because once they started sharing what’s been going on behind the scenes these past two years, I realised just how far off the mark I'd been.

Pauline isn’t just running a theatre. She’s leading a cultural recovery operation — and doing it with a budget so lean it wouldn’t even pay for the marketing department at some other venues.

Let me put this plainly: the Floral Pavilion is currently run on just £500,000 in council subsidy. That’s not speculation — it’s in the council’s own published reports. The document presented to Wirral’s Tourism, Communities, Culture & Leisure Committee earlier this year spells it out clearly: for 2024/25, the target subsidy is half a million pounds.

That’s one of the lowest figures for a venue of its size, reach, and regional importance anywhere in the country.

The Return on That Investment

Now here’s the real kicker: that £500K generates a return of over £5 million to the local economy. Let that sink in. For every single pound the council puts in, ten pounds come back out in economic activity. That includes:

• Ticket sales & concessions to shows that draw in audiences from across Merseyside and beyond.

• Money spent in nearby restaurants, pubs, cafés and shops.

• Conference bookings that bring in business tourism midweek.

• Jobs created directly and indirectly — not just actors and stage crew, but bar staff, local suppliers, security, cleaners, printers, florists, musicians.

This is a working, beating part of New Brighton’s economy — not some nostalgic sideshow. It supports livelihoods. It creates community cohesion. It gives people a reason to come here, stay here, and feel proud of here.

And it does all of that while operating on a shoestring compared to venues like Storyhouse in Chester, which received over £1.1 million in council support last year.

How We Got So Misinformed

So how did I — and many others — get the Floral Pavilion so wrong? Honestly? It’s a combination of two things:

1. Clickbait journalism.

It's not just one article or one headline. It’s the drip-feed effect. Story after story about the theatre framed through budget overspends, falling ticket sales, or consultancy costs. Always framed like something’s going wrong. Rarely framed like something’s being built.

Take this recent headline in the Wirral Globe: “Floral Pavilion budget goes over by £118,000 due to drop in sales.” I clicked it. Took it at face value. Assumed the worst. But when you read past the headline, you see a very different picture:– £96,000 was a shortfall in expected box office revenue (something that fluctuates in any venue).– £22,000 was a planned investment in future strategy.

Not a crisis. Just operations.

But here's the thing: local journalism today rarely has the space or resources to go deep. It’s become reactive. Built for scrolls, not scrutiny. Headlines are designed to generate engagement, not necessarily understanding — because that's what drives ad revenue and meets site KPIs.

This isn’t about blaming journalists. I respect the role they play, especially in local communities. But the system they work in often flattens complex realities into clickable drama. And when you see the same framing over and over — the arts as cost centres, not cultural assets — it starts to shape how you think, even if you should know better.

That’s on me.

I didn’t dig deeper. I didn’t ask better questions. I didn’t challenge the pattern. Instead, I absorbed the background noise and contributed to a narrative I don’t even believe in. That’s why I’m writing this now — not to criticise the press, but to check myself. And to start paying more attention to what stories are being told… and which ones aren’t.

2. Wirral Council’s black hole of transparency.

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: trying to understand how decisions are made in Wirral is like trying to reconstruct the Magna Carta from shreds of burnt toast. You can dig through thousands of pages of PDFs, cross-reference minutes, and still not know who voted for what or how subsidies are actually calculated.

The Floral Pavilion’s performance isn’t clearly tracked in one place. The budget lines are split between committees. The economic impact isn’t linked to funding strategy. No wonder people are confused.

What Pauline and David Are Actually Doing

Here’s what struck me most during my visit: Pauline and David aren’t just running a theatre. They’re curating a civic experience.

They’ve taken a building that could’ve quietly faded into obscurity and instead turned it into a versatile, outward-facing cultural hub.

• They’ve brought in top-tier names — Will Young, John Bishop, full runs of Blood Brothers, and more. The Floral is now back on the radar for major acts who might otherwise skip the Wirral.

  
  

• They’ve reinvigorated the programming mix, increasing from 350 to 370 performance days annually — that’s more days with something happening than days without.

  
  

• They’ve opened up the café and restaurant spaces to local food producers and artists — creating pop-up dining nights and exhibitions that pull in people even when there’s no show.

  
  

• They’ve turned the Folk Festival into a free-entry event, funding it through secondary spend rather than ticketing, making it more inclusive and community-led.

That’s not cost-cutting. That’s vision.

And they’re doing it while implementing a new operational model that actually reduces the council’s financial exposure year on year.

Political Football, Again

It’s impossible to talk about the Floral Pavilion without mentioning how frequently it’s used as a stick to beat the council with — or to score cheap political points.

One councillor recently complained that you can’t pay cash at the bar. When I walked in, there was a massive “CASH ONLY” sign at one till.

Others have made vague insinuations about overpaid baristas or cushy theatre jobs — all while ignoring the complex reality of rota payments, public sector terms, and the fact that venues like this are often being asked to do more with less every single year.

It’s lazy politics. And it needs to stop.

The Real Point: What Kind of Town Are We?

Ken Martin gives us a tour of the New Brighton Floral Pavilion - his final work as an architect.

This isn’t just about one theatre. It’s about how we value public space. Culture. Local pride. The chance to sit in the dark with your neighbours and be moved by something greater than yourself.

When we short-change places like the Floral Pavilion, we short-change our identity. We tell ourselves that entertainment is something that happens in Liverpool. That theatre is something for other towns. That conferencing, live music, and civic life are things we rent, not things we own. But step into the Floral Pavilion today, and you’ll feel something else: New Brighton, doing it ourselves. And that deserves not just to be defended — but celebrated.

Where We Go From Here

I’m proud to say that through the New Brighton Partnership, we’ll be working more closely with Pauline and her team in the months ahead — supporting new programming, bringing in creative partners, and making sure the Floral Pavilion becomes a true anchor in the regeneration of our town.

This place isn’t a cost. It’s an asset. And it’s time we start treating it like one.

If you want to help, go to a show. Buy lunch there. Tell your mates it’s worth a night out. Because it is.

And if you’ve got influence, use it. Stop the cheap shots. Stop repeating the myths. And start listening to the people who actually make this town live and breathe.

Full citations and financial source documents are available via Wirral Council’s committee archive. If I’ve got something wrong here, again — tell me. I’ll update it. Because correcting the record isn’t weakness. It’s responsibility.