"We've been to four plays here. The best was superb, from the acting and direction to the set design and lighting - one of the most powerful plays I've seen in years. A couple of the others were too trendy / glitzy for us old folks, but of high quality."

Charles Heckscher

"Last minute ticket bought at the door still allowed for a good seat and there were many still available. Lower prices for Yale students. Comfortable chairs."

Ilana Falcão de Arruda

"A red-doored Gothic church in New Haven now serves up spiritual sustenance of a different sort. The Yale Repertory Theatre, carved from the 1846 Calvary Baptist Church, manages a rare architectural sleight of hand; it's both imposing and oddly cozy, like finding a pipe organ in your senile grandmother's living room.

The space operates with the quiet efficiency of a well-worn practice room. Its well worn 478 seats, upholstered in pragmatic red, fan out beneath restored vaulted ceilings where modern lighting grids now nest among original wooden trusses. The permanent "house set" built into the performance space suggests decades of technical directors saying "well, this works, let's keep it" – the kind of practical wisdom that comes from actually making theater rather than just theorizing about it.

Inside, you'll find a peculiarly Yale mix of high-minded ambition and functional reality. Emergency exit signs glow alongside Gothic tracery. A floral carpet that might have graced a 1970s parlor leads to state-of-the-art sound equipment. The tech booth perches where a choir once stood, its occupants still keeping watch over the proceedings below, though now armed with lighting cues instead of hymnals.

The conversion from house of worship to house of drama has been handled with remarkable sensitivity. Modern theatrical infrastructure appears to float within the historic envelope rather than fight against it. The Gothic arches and ornate stonework still inspire reverence, while contemporary touches – like the prominently displayed inclusive welcome messaging and accessibility features – signal its evolution into a progressive cultural space.

The Rep's programming history since its 1966 founding reads like a theatrical testament to practical ambition. Four Pulitzer Prizes and ten Tony Awards for transferred productions suggest that this converted church has become quite adept at picking theatrical prophets. From nurturing August Wilson's voice under Lloyd Richards' leadership to premiering works by Paula Vogel and Christopher Durang, the space has maintained a delicate balance between academic exploration and professional rigor.

What's particularly striking is how the space's quirks seem to inform its artistic identity. The intimate scale and permanent architectural features encourage productions that embrace rather than fight the building's character. Whether staging Shakespeare or premiering contemporary works, directors must grapple with an environment that demands acknowledgment of theatrical artifice: there's no pretending this isn't a former church doing bold new things.

The surprising triumph of Yale Rep isn't that it turned a church into a theater, it's that it managed to maintain both spaces' essential purpose: bringing people together to contemplate what lies beyond their daily experience. On any given night, you might find a grad student's experimental take on Euripides sharing the same wooden rafters where congregants once contemplated eternal salvation. The only real difference? The price of admission is now clearly posted, and the wine, when served, comes after the show.

Where Baptist hymns once floated up to heaven, stage whispers now bounce off Gothic arches. And somehow, in this peculiar marriage of ecclesiastical architecture and theatrical pragmatism, both art forms seem to have gotten exactly the home they deserved – one where the mundane work of running a theater (mind the floral carpet, check the exit signs) coexists peacefully with grander aspirations toward transcendence. Though these days, when someone calls out "Jesus Christ!" from the audience, it's more likely to be during a particularly bold directorial choice than a moment of religious ecstasy."

Jeremy Edmunds