Figueres a Escena

The 1990s renovation that reshaped Teatro El Jardí

Every theatre carries several histories at once. There is the official record of architects, budgets, permits, and opening dates, but there is also the memory held by people who arrived early to unlock the doors, carried equipment through narrow corridors, watched rehearsals from the wings, or queued for a favourite performance. Teatro El Jardí’s renovation in the 1990s belongs to both kinds of history.

In Figueres, the transformation was experienced as a practical necessity and a cultural promise. The building had to respond to changing expectations about comfort, safety, technical production, and access. At the same time, its renovation raised a more personal question: how could a familiar theatre be renewed without losing the atmosphere that made it recognisable?

The most revealing account is therefore an oral one. Memories of dust, temporary closures, hurried decisions, improvised workspaces, and the first performances after the building reopened explain why the project mattered beyond construction. They show how a venue becomes part of a city’s emotional geography.

A theatre remembered before the works

For many residents, El Jardí was first remembered through routine. It was the place where school groups encountered live performance, where families dressed up for an evening out, and where local artists measured their ambitions against a real stage. The theatre’s importance was built through repeated visits rather than a single celebrated event.

Those memories also reveal the building’s limitations. Audiences noticed uncomfortable seating, restricted circulation, outdated backstage arrangements, and technical conditions that made some productions difficult to mount. Performers and stage crews experienced these issues more directly, dealing with awkward entrances, limited storage, and equipment that no longer matched the demands of contemporary theatre.

The renovation was thus discussed in everyday language. People might speak about improving the hall, repairing the roof, modernising the stage, or making the building safer. Behind those practical descriptions was a larger recognition that Figueres needed a performing arts venue capable of supporting a broader cultural programme.

When closure became part of the story

A renovation changes a theatre before the first wall is moved. Once the possibility of major building work became real, regular users had to imagine their cultural life elsewhere. Performances needed alternative locations, rehearsals had to be rearranged, and staff faced the challenge of maintaining contact with audiences during a period when the familiar venue was unavailable.

For artists, the closure could feel both disruptive and hopeful. A theatre under repair cannot offer its usual stage, yet the promise of improved conditions creates a sense of investment in the future. In recollections of this period, practical frustration often sits beside anticipation: the temporary inconvenience was measured against the possibility of better sightlines, stronger technical infrastructure, and a more welcoming public space.

The wider cultural network around Figueres helped sustain that continuity. Today, Figueres a Escena connects theatre, music, dance, cinema, opera, circus, and family programming across venues and activities. That kind of network makes it easier to understand the renovation as part of a long-term cultural ecosystem rather than an isolated building project.

Dust, noise, and decisions behind the scenes

Oral histories of construction are rarely composed of grand architectural statements. They are made from small details: the smell of fresh plaster, the echo of an empty auditorium, the sound of drills during the day, and the sudden visibility of spaces that audiences normally never see. Technicians remember routes for cables and scenery; administrators remember schedules, invoices, and delays; performers remember trying to rehearse while the building changed around them.

Each group judged the works by different standards. An architect might focus on structure and circulation, while a lighting technician looked for rigging points and electrical capacity. An usher thought about entrances and queues. A parent attending with a child noticed toilets, steps, and the ease of moving through the foyer. Together, these viewpoints provide a fuller account of what “modernisation” meant.

The renovation also required choices about identity. Historic theatres often contain details that are inconvenient but meaningful: worn surfaces, particular proportions, familiar colours, or a distinctive relationship between stage and audience. Updating El Jardí involved deciding which elements belonged to the building’s character and which represented barriers to its future use.

The audience returns to a changed room

Reopening day is remembered through contrasts. People who had known the theatre before the renovation compared old and new almost instinctively. A brighter foyer, clearer circulation, improved seating, or a more capable stage could make the building feel transformed, even when its basic silhouette remained familiar.

For regular spectators, the most important changes were often quiet ones. Better acoustics could make a singer’s voice travel more clearly. Safer access could allow more people to attend independently. Updated backstage facilities could shorten the strain of a performance day. These improvements might not appear in publicity photographs, but they influenced whether audiences and artists wanted to return.

The first shows after reopening also tested the renovation in public. A building can look complete while still needing adjustment: staff learn new procedures, technical teams become familiar with equipment, and audiences discover how to move through the renewed spaces. In that sense, the theatre was finished gradually, through use.

Memory held by What the renovation changed Why it mattered
Audiences Comfort, circulation, visibility, and access Made attendance easier and more inviting
Performers Stage conditions, dressing areas, and technical support Expanded the kinds of productions the venue could host
Technicians Rigging, lighting, sound, and backstage routes Improved safety and production reliability
Staff and volunteers Front-of-house systems and daily operations Supported smoother events and stronger audience care
Local cultural groups Rehearsal, presentation, and community opportunities Strengthened the theatre’s role beyond individual performances

A larger cultural life takes shape

The renovated theatre became valuable because it could support more than conventional evening performances. A contemporary cultural venue needs to host workshops, talks, rehearsals, school activities, community gatherings, and events for different ages. El Jardí’s renewed capacity helped widen the meaning of a theatre in the city.

This broader use connects the building’s 1990s transformation with the work of ATEB, the theatre school serving children, young people, and adults. Training requires rooms where participants can move, speak, experiment, and present work without feeling that culture belongs only to professionals. The connection between performance and education gives the renovation a long afterlife.

It also explains why memories of the building belong to several generations. A child who attended a family show might later join a theatre class, perform in a youth production, or return as an adult spectator. The venue’s renovation created physical conditions for these pathways, while the programme gave them purpose.

Voices that keep the renovation alive

An oral history should resist the idea that there is one definitive memory. A stage manager may recall a technical breakthrough; an audience member may remember the first comfortable evening in the renewed hall; a local performer may remember the relief of having a dependable venue close to home. None of these accounts cancels the others.

Recorded conversations, programme notes, photographs, newspaper archives, and personal collections can be read together. So can the voices gathered through cultural initiatives such as the Paraula d’Actor programme, which places spoken testimony and theatrical experience at the centre of cultural memory. Listening carefully helps distinguish documented fact from affectionate exaggeration without diminishing either.

The 1990s renovation matters because it changed expectations. Once audiences and artists had experienced a more capable El Jardí, the theatre could be judged by what it made possible: varied programming, stronger community participation, better production standards, and a more inclusive relationship with the city. Renovation became a foundation for continued cultural work.

Ways to preserve the living memory

A useful local memory project can begin with ordinary evidence and familiar voices. The following practices would help keep the renovation connected to the people who experienced it:

Such a project should preserve disagreement as well as consensus. Different memories can reveal how access, comfort, artistic ambition, and institutional priorities were negotiated. The result would be more than an archive: it would be a shared portrait of how Figueres built its contemporary performing arts life.

Carrying the story forward

Teatro El Jardí’s renovation belongs to the past, but its meaning continues each time the doors open. Every performance, class, screening, rehearsal, and conversation adds another layer to the building’s history. Attend an event, bring younger audiences into the venue, share a family memory, or contribute an old programme to the local record. The story of El Jardí remains alive when the theatre is used, remembered, and cared for as a common cultural space.