One of our community reviewers, Claire Evans-  Diary of the Evans Crittens, went along to watch The Silent Volunteer by Avant Cymru: A Powerful and Important Piece of Theatre. Read her review below.

Some theatre stays with you long after you leave the show, and The Silent Volunteer by Avant Cymru was very much one of those productions for me.

Dave and I saw the play at the Torch Theatre as part of its tour, alongside the accompanying exhibition. I knew beforehand that it would deal with the Aberfan disaster, so of course would be an emotional watch, but I wasn’t prepared for quite how deeply it would affect me.

A Visit to the Torch Is More Than Just Seeing a Show

One of the things I love about going to the Torch Theatre is that it feels like an experience, not simply turning up to watch a performance and then going home. We arrived with enough time to relax with drinks before the show, which gave us a chance to settle in before what we knew would be a very emotional production.

On the way in, we walked through the accompanying Silent Volunteer: The Coal Tip exhibition. There was a lot of information to take in, and I don't think you could absorb every detail in one visit, but it definitely enhanced the experience of watching the play afterwards, especially for younger audience members who may be less aware of the tragedy.

We entered the Studio Theatre, thinking about Aberfan and the people affected by it. The cast members were already on stage, which immediately made us feel part of the production rather than simply spectators arriving to watch. As we sat waiting for the performance to begin, I found myself looking at the characters and wondering what their stories and relationship to Aberfan might be.

The Story Behind Th Silent Volunteer

The Silent Volunteer was written by Sue Bevan, who herself was a ten-year-old volunteer following the Aberfan disaster. All of the cast also have their own connections to Aberfan, which makes everything you are watching feel even more real and personal. This isn't simply a retelling of a tragedy from history. It is rooted in lived experience, memory and the voices of communities whose lives were changed forever.

The Aberfan disaster happened on 21st October 1966, when a colliery spoil tip collapsed above the village of Aberfan and engulfed Pantglas Junior School and surrounding houses. A total of 144 people died, including 116 children.

Knowing those facts is one thing, but sitting in a theatre, looking the characters in the eye and being drawn into the emotions and consequences of what happened is something else entirely.

Ordinary People Caught Up in an Unimaginable Tragedy

Once the play began, the characters and setting felt immediately relatable. That is one of the things that makes the tragedy hit so hard. These weren't distant historical figures. They were ordinary people going about their lives, with families, friendships, conversations, worries and everyday routines. It really brought home the fact that something like this could happen to any community, to any of us.

The story begins before the events of Aberfan, and as the days count down towards the 21st, there is an awful sense of inevitability for the audience. As the dreaded date got closer, I could physically feel myself becoming more tense. My whole body was braced for an event that the characters themselves could not yet know was about to change everything.

A Difficult Watch, But an Important One

At the end of the show, the cast acknowledged that The Silent Volunteer is a difficult watch, and that is absolutely true.

There were moments when I felt genuinely overwhelmed by what was being portrayed. The production doesn't allow you to keep the tragedy at a comfortable historical distance. Instead, it makes you think about the children, those poor children, their families, the volunteers and the wider community.

I found myself carrying those emotions with me afterwards. Even the following day, the weight of the story was still there. It will always be in my heart as I fold my own children’s school uniform.

But I am so glad that I saw it. Some stories should make us uncomfortable. Some deserve more than a passing reference in a history book or a few minutes in a documentary. Theatre has the ability to place us emotionally inside a story, and The Silent Volunteer uses that power incredibly effectively.

More Than a Story About Aberfan

One of the things that stayed with me most strongly was that the production is not solely about looking backwards. There is also a very clear message about responsibility, community and speaking up when things are wrong. Although we all wish we could, we cannot change the past, but we can change the future.

Sue Bevan describes the play as:

“A call to action - to make our voices heard, to get involved in the fight for our rights, and to demand change.”

That idea really resonated with me. It is easy to look back at historical tragedies and wonder how events were allowed to happen. It is much more uncomfortable to ask ourselves what injustices we accept today simply because speaking out feels difficult, because we assume somebody else will do it, or because we feel that nothing we do will make a difference.

The play reminds us that communities have voices and that those voices matter.

Continuing the Conversation After the Performance

Another thing I appreciated was that the experience didn't simply end when the performance finished. Audience members were invited to ask questions to the group afterwards, or to speak to them privately if they preferred.

No one in our audience chose to ask a question publicly, which I could completely understand after such an emotional performance. I’m sure that, like me, many people went home afterwards thinking of things they wished they had asked.

At an earlier performance, an audience member had shared a poem they had written about Aberfan, and this was read aloud at our showing too. It felt like another example of how the production encourages audiences not just to watch, but to become part of a wider conversation around memory, grief and community.

We were also invited to write down our thoughts on Post-it notes and vote on questions, including:

“Does including an artistic experience, such as a play, music, dance or film, enhance your experience of a history or heritage exhibition?”

The responses were unanimous: "Very much."

I completely agree. The exhibition gave us the historical context, while the play gave that history people, voices and emotions.

I imagine the discussion afterwards may become even more powerful as the production tours other former coal-mining communities, where audience members may have their own family memories, local connections or stories to share. Even without a public discussion at our performance, having the invitation there mattered. It made it clear that the conversation did not have to end when the play did.

The emotion of the evening stayed with us right to the end. As we were leaving, Dave gave each of the cast members a hug, which probably says more about how much the performance affected us than I could put into words.

Giving Communities a Voice

Avant Cymru's work has a strong emphasis on community stories, which everyone at our showing voted they wanted to see more of too. That was very evident here. The production felt respectful rather than sensational, and the people connected to Aberfan were never reduced to statistics or historical characters.

If I’ve made the play sound dark, forgive me, because although the subject is incredibly difficult, the incredible cast keep it engaging throughout. Even scenes involving the reading of correspondence are brought to life in a way that holds your attention.

One particularly emotional moment was a performance of Ar Hyd y Nos. The production also draws on the story of D. C. W. Jones, Borough and Waterworks Engineer. From 1963, Mr Jones had been writing to the National Coal Board asking them to reduce the tips behind Pantglas School. The letters are now in the public domain, and seeing how concerns raised by local experts were not listened to adds another deeply frustrating layer to the story. It makes the disaster feel even harder to comprehend, because the warnings were there.

The Silent Volunteer isn't an easy evening at the theatre, but it is an important one. It is moving, uncomfortable and thought-provoking, and reminded me just how powerful theatre can be when it gives space to stories that deserve to be heard. The combination of the exhibition, the intimate Studio Theatre setting and the production itself made the whole evening feel immersive from the moment we arrived at the Torch.

Most importantly, the production doesn't leave Aberfan safely in the past. It makes us think about the world we live in now, whether we speak up when something is wrong, whether we listen when communities tell us they are being ignored, and whether we are willing to do something ourselves rather than assume somebody else will.

I left feeling emotionally drained, but also grateful that productions like this exist and that organisations such as Avant Cymru continue to give communities a voice. The Silent Volunteer is a powerful reminder of the importance of remembering Aberfan, listening to those who experienced it and recognising that remembrance should also inspire action. Well done to all involved.