The ADC Theatre is at the heart of Cambridge drama and an integral part of our university’s identity. It produces more material than any other university theatre in the UK; both the Cambridge University Amateur Dramatic Club and the famed Footlights are resident here, and it has turned out countless brilliant comedians, actors and directors in the course of its 150-year history. But the humble origins of the ADC and how it shaped – and was shaped by – the University’s character is a less familiar story.

When a group of friends calling themselves the Amateur Dramatic Club first set up shop at The Hoop Inn in 1855, the air of enthusiasm was palpable. Their bouncy merriment can still be sensed in the painful but charming verse of one overexcited contemporary: “Enjoy the passing moment as it flies;/ We’ll do our best to feast your ears and eyes./ Forgive our faults and recognise with glee/ In a new dress, your old friend ADC.” Yet disapproving Cambridge officials saw to it that the ADC faced a true baptism of fire. A University statute outlawing drama had been lifted only a couple of years earlier, and the Club needed permanent look-outs to warn members of approaching proctors during performances. Though its existence was eventually grudgingly acknowledged, restrictions were imposed on times when shows could be staged. Even royal legitimisation – the result of the Prince of Wales’ involvement – failed to curry the University’s favour.

What’s more, the ADC was skint. From the start, a modest budget restricted the ambitions of its founders. Unable to pay the majority of its mortgage for half a century and with premises heated only by a single open fire until 1927, the Club’s beginnings present a sorry tale. Eventually, it gained recognition: by the early 1900s the CUADC was known and respected on a national scale. The King congratulated the Club on its 50th anniversary in 1905, and the 1907 foundation of the Marlowe Society in the ADC Theatre reinforced its presence as a hotbed of drama. Gutted by fire in 1933 and faced with increasing maintenance costs, however, its financial woes continued. Even after officially becoming a part of the University, the ADC received little or no funding, remaining heavily reliant on ticket and bar sales until the launch of the ADC Theatre Appeal in 2002. Through the Appeal, thankful alumni, together with the University and charitable trusts, financed a large-scale refurbishment – to the tune of some £2.2 million. In spite of this reinvigorating financial injection, though, it continues to be supported primarily by the ambition and enthusiasm of the students who have built and nurtured it.

To an outsider, the University’s flourishing theatre might at first seem hard to grasp. How can Cambridge, universally known for its relentless academic intensity, support an endless flow of drama? In talking to the current ADC president Adam Smith, I gained an insight into the diversity of subject groups represented in Cambridge theatre and the range of reasons for involvement. While many seek acting careers, others – particularly scientists – are using the ADC as a much-needed escape from mundane work. Of course, the ADC is, as Adam confirms, “a great springboard” for aspiring actors answering their calling, but there remains room for any level of commitment for anyone, whatever their inclination.

This is something that really marks the change that has taken place in the ADC over the years. In the twentieth-century, it broke rank and file with more conservative elements of Britain’s national theatre scene. Admittedly, women only appeared at the ADC in 1935 – despite Newnham and Girton’s admittance of women to Cambridge since the mid-nineteenth century. But the gender imbalance in the theatre remains a national issue, and the ADC can be seen as leading the trend to restore equal representation. Alongside productions such as The Other Line and Blue Stockings, which continue to tackle the imbalance, the creativity and progressiveness of the ADC’s Shakespeare productions must be admired. The incorporation of both a female and male Richard III into the recent take on the Bard’s classic work is just one example of their creative approach. In a multitude of ways, the ADC is pushing boundaries.

Often one hears of cliquey, cut-throat reality that governs Cambridge theatre’s inner hierarchy. It is true that the ADC is discriminating, and tight-knit social ties undoubtedly emerge in any such competitive environment. Some recent productions have seen roles sought by over 30 applicants, Adam tells me, and the competition for directors wanting to put on their shows is similarly fierce. But is that really a surprise? After all, Cambridge runs on competition. From friendly rivalries over essay results to the Machiavellian intrigues of the recent Union scandal, it is the lifeblood of our upward trend of achievement. Adam describes Cambridge as “an institution which seeks to nurture talent,” and competitive, talented environments are inevitably tied to an element of discrimination. The scent of meritocratic discrimination is too often interpreted as nepotism. Ambition and talent are the defining features of this university, and the ADC, like all student organisations at Cambridge, is open to any one of us who displays them.