Being engaged does not only mean presenting interesting work, it is also about those you show it to.

A man walks down the theatre corridor with his daughter in a wheelchair. Stops at an usher. Hesitates, then says: 'I don't want to nag, but she can't go on the disabled toilet. I'm looking for a place to change her.' So this usher, he helps search. A moment later, they are behind a rack in the pantry. Sugar sachets, coffee, speculoos, tins of tomato soup.

There are so many routes you don't see when you don't need them. There are also so many routes that are not there. 'Thanks for the free ticket,' writes a woman who received a 'voucher for a performance of your choice' in her food bank parcel. 'But if I have to pay for cloakroom and a drink in the interval, it will still be too expensive. Besides, I don't have any fancy clothes either.'

Routes. A shortcut, for example, because you don't pull rows - physically or mentally. Thresholds, visible and invisible. Why explore them all, the cynic might ask. Such a lady with one of those food bank vouchers, she doesn't really want to. And we have a disabled toilet. Isn't that enough? They just don't want to. Because they are not there. So.

Next to the cynic is a man peering at the brochure. 'An installative performance characteristic of the artist's modernist oeuvre,' reads the man. He looks around searchingly, sees the cynic. But the latter is just looking at his wine, which is a little too warm.

In 1969, drama school students threw tomatoes in protest against a theatre world that they felt was too elitist and lacking in commitment. The theatre world was shocked. Why too little commitment, it was shouted. How too elitist?

Routes you don't know exist you generally don't see. The tomato showed the route.

Fifty years on, we have fantastic theatre in the Netherlands. Theatre, musical theatre, performances of all shapes and sizes at all conceivable venues, with all forms of engagement.

But we still fail to fill our venues with a wide audience. Because venues are still not as accessible as they should be. For visitors with physical or mental disabilities, with flat wallets, or for people who are not introduced to theatre jargon.

Being engaged does not only mean presenting interesting work, it is also about those you show it to. About the temporary community that can arise in a room when very different passers-by meet for a moment. Such a temporary, mixed gathering deepens the experience of a performance.

'We have to keep going,' says the girl who has just been changed, reappearing back in her wheelchair. 'Not just once, every time.' 'That's good,' says her father. And he weighs a look on his hand. 

Good to know

Festival Boulevard director Viktorien van Hulst wrote this column for Scenes, magazine for theatre lovers.