*This access review is a bit of a different one because I never got the chance to go. Not because I wasn't available or wanted to, but because the venue's ridiculous access policy meant I couldn't. I'm sharing my experience, so you guys have a heads-up about what might happen if you have tickets to see a show here.
So, let's rewind to November 2023. I was in hospital and very unwell, and honestly had no idea The Maine were even doing a UK tour - not that I think I'd have cared much at the time, given my situation. However, Em (My sister) knew once I was better I would care and she was right. So as a sort of 'get well soon'/'thing to look forward to' present, she bought the tickets for the Manchester show in April 2024. Her and her partner planned the whole thing to take the pressure off me, in the hope that all I would need to do was turn up and enjoy the show with them.
Em and I try to see The Maine every time they're in the UK and it has become a sort of tradition, for want of a better word, between us. Here's a photo of Em and I (pre-injury) with The Maine at Slam Dunk Festival in 2017:
Image Description: Nash and Em are standing with all The Maine's band members. Everybody is smiling. Nash stands between Garret and John, and Em is stood between John and Pat. Kennedy and Jared are on the far right. They are inside a merch tent with The Maine's t-shirts hung up behind them.
Let's now fast forward to April 2024. I had to have emergency surgery at the beginning of the month and was pretty much bed-bound for 2 weeks with an infection. During- this time, Em double-checked the tickets to find that we needed to apply to them for access tickets as we hadn't bought specific access tickets from them directly. (Usually, we buy tickets from the same place as everyone else and then contact the venue to request the +1 ticket and access space - which is much simpler).
Online the venue stated that they needed 7 days' notice, so none of us were particularly worried at this point. Having been to so many gigs in the past, I was confident that standing venues tended to be pretty easy on accessibility tickets and could sort things out with much less time than what we were giving New Century Hall. I'd even been in situations where I'd just go in the general crowd if there was no room on the viewing platform, so I was confident whatever happened, we'd make it work - all I needed was to be able to get into the room (I'd say that was the bare minimum for someone who has bought tickets).
As the days went on, we'd heard nothing back from them. I've since counted and we called the venue over 30 times over the course of a week to try to speak to someone about this. In addition to my brother-in-law having completed the online form.
On the day of the event, I was still remaining positive and said that whatever happened, we had tickets so we would go, whether I was in a wheelchair or not surely my ticket could get me entry?! How wrong I was.
Image Description: This photo was taken in 2021, when Em and I saw The Maine play in Leeds. Nash is sat in his powerchair, smiling next to Kennedy (one of The Maine's guitarists). Kennedy is wearing a black facemask and has his thumb up. They are outside at night, behind the venue.
It was about 4pm, maybe 3 hours before the show, and my brother-in-law called me saying he had bad news. He had finally spoken to the venue and spoke to a very rude and unhelpful staff member who told him that the venue had carried out an emergency risk assessment and could only accommodate 3 wheelchair users. He was told that she could issue the carer's ticket, and we could turn up at 9pm when the main act was on (which would mean missing the support acts) and try to get in but she doubts we will. The only way we would be able to get in would be if one of the other wheelchair users didn't turn up or left early.
My brother-in-law said he would call me to ask what I wanted to happen. So we were talking and I said I think we should email and ask for the carer's ticket to be issued, then we can turn up, each with a ticket and then it would be even harder for the venue to deny us entry. However, the email he received back was blunt and simply offered for her to call back and explain the situation again - she clearly wasn't going to issue the carer's ticket now.
So we were stuck. Em finished work at 4:30pm, excited for the gig and I had to call her to say that I couldn't go because they don't have room for me at the venue. I was angry, we all were, and I felt so helpless. There's nothing I can do to change the space I take up, I can't just decide that life in a wheelchair isn't convenient for me and leave that part of me at home. I told Em and her partner to go without me - they still could because they don't use a wheelchair. But they refused to, which was nice in principle but I couldn't shake the feeling of having ruined the night.
It's hard not to spiral in these situations. When you're reminded that the world isn't made for people like you and it feels like no matter how hard to shout, nobody is listening because it doesn't affect them.
This post isn't meant to be a 'doom and gloom' pity party, but I want to share with you the reality of life with a disability. If you are a wheelchair user, I would avoid buying tickets to any event at New Century Hall, Manchester. After all, if less than 0.5% of their capacity is for wheelchair users, it doesn't feel like they particularly want people with mobility aids in their venue in the first place.
(Updated 24/05/24)