A dramatic pause at the Varieties

This old girl has had her ups and downs and now she's getting back in shape to lift her skirts and dance a can-can with tail feathers flying once again. The price is steep – 9.2m – but she's worth it.

The 530-odd plush seats at Leeds City Varieties have been auctioned off for 4,000, the stage is screened from mucky construction work and ceilings, walls and woodwork are stripped back.

The glass light fittings are gone for repair, there's no box office, bar or loos. Balustrades have been exposed that were encased in timber decades ago. A staircase is about to be ripped out to make way for a glass lift shaft. The picture is a world away from what it will become – a restored version of how it looked circa 1900, with a long-life extension.

The Varieties is tucked away in the city centre, a little gem with a giant reputation. There's nothing else quite like this place which over the past 145 years has played host to the greatest names. If only those nicotine-stained walls could speak, they would tell tales of a very young clog dancer called Charlie Chaplin, the beauty that was Marie Lloyd, Houdini's audacious escape from a locked safe, an evening with Mickey Rooney, Flanagan and Allan, Norman Wisdom, Danny La Rue...the list goes on.

For 30 years to 1983, the BBC producer Barney Colehan lured talent here for Edwardian-costumed punters who joined in a roistering rendition of Down at the Old Bull and Bush to round off television's the Good Old Days.

Leeds City Council acquired it in 1988 and it is run by Leeds Grand Opera House Limited. "The building was starting to look faded and jaded but audiences were good," says the long-serving general manager Peter Sandeman. "The highlight of the year was always the panto – 92 per cent sales for our last one. In my time the subsidy from the council has diminished significantly from 240,000 a year to under 200,000.

"The theatre has to stand on its own feet. I don't think there was every any question of closing it down, as it's a very special and intimate venue and very close to the hearts of the people of Leeds.

"Many acts have performed here on their way up as well as on their way down. Latterly we still did seven weekends a year of The Good Old Days, but not for TV. I think when we reopen our first show may well be a variety evening."

The grade II* listed building closed last January. Before the builders could start, 42 third party agreements had to be negotiated with the owners of adjacent buildings and businesses in the cramped area around the theatre. It was handed over to contractors BAM in November and they will finish in March next year. Leeds council is paying 5.2m, the Heritage Lottery Fund nearly 3m and the Friends of Leeds City Varieties fundraising contributes 1.6m.

Public access to other businesses in the narrow street had to be maintained, despite the fact that a great hole has been dug outside the theatre and all deliveries of materials have to be made down this same passageway. Local man Geoff Wright is in charge of the project for

BAM, and he remembers coming to the theatre as a child.

"It seemed huge back then, but when I walked in before starting this job I was struck by its tininess and fragility. It needs very careful handling. We're having to keep the heating on to prevent shrinkage, while backstage demolition goes on to build brand new dressing room and office facilities. A new damp-proofing membrane is going into the basement and we've knocked through in to the Old Swan pub, which will become an integral part of the theatre building."

Charles Thornton deserves a name check here. He was the Victorian licensee of the White Swan. In 1865 he spotted an opportunity and extended his pub's music room by adding a theatre to the building. He sold the business 10 years later and went into retail, building Thornton's Arcade next door.

In 1905, licensing authorities ruled that the pub had to be separate from the theatre. Punters had been able to drink throughout a performance and many forgot to take their seats again after the interval. There was no ringing of a bell to summon them – beer sales were more important than ticket revenue. Free tickets would be given out to get the drinkers in and as many as 2,000 people would cram into the little building.

Archaeologist Stephen Potten is on site, keeping a record of the history of the fabric of the building. Any reusable lengths of timber, pieces of plasterwork (some made from papier mache), balustrading or other original detailing are put aside. A specialist company is filling in decorative gaps by taking segments of coving and other work and matching them. All materials used must, as far as possible, match the originals. Scrapings and findings of paint, paper and plaster have been sent off to specialists. One modern touch allowed is the opening of 13 bricked-up window arches. "Work has to be done on the roof but there's little evidence of leaks," says Geoff Wright. "The plasterwork is mostly in quite good condition, but back in 1900 ceilings were done using plasterlack – narrow strips of timber which were held in place by the plaster. This is rather delicate and any impact from above would mean the debonding of the plaster.

"New mechanical and electrical systems will cost 1.5m and include ventilation plant. There was no means of ventilation before, so the place could be stifling, especially when so many people smoked years ago. The heavy plant needs to go into the roof space on top of a concrete slab. But so as to leave the ceiling below undisturbed, a steel structure is being built to rest the slab and machinery on. It's all part of sympathetic restoration."

The plan for the auditorium is to reinstate the original decorative scheme. The ornate ceiling roses have gone off for restoration and original botanical art work has been uncovered. Decorative panels between the ceiling lights will be put on canvas then fixed

in place.

Each of the 470-odd new seats (yes, with more leg room) will have a little ventilation shaft in the floor beside it. In preparation for this, all unwanted gaps in the wooden flooring will be filled. Exploration of the underfloor spaces has revealed fag packets, cigarette butts, old programmes, tickets and ages-old sweet wrappers. It's amystery why City Varieties never had a major fire, especially in the days of gas light.

The new auditorium will be higher and new raking will give people at the back a better view of the stage. There will be a new lighting and sound rig and a new floor. The 10 boxes will be given doors.

There will be no more complaints of dingy dressing rooms, poor shower facilities, cramped office space and only four loos for women – harking back to the days when nice girls weren't seen

in boozy music halls where floozies showed off their bosoms and legs at the same time.

The contractor's previous work includes Sheffield City Hall, the

Royal Hall in Harrogate, the Yorkshire Cricket Carnegie Pavilion, Leeds Grammar School, the Rose Bowl building for Leeds Met University

and Leeds University's School of the Earth and Environment. Some 600 people and 40 subcontractors are involved in the restoration of the City Varieties.

Site manager Stuart Gibbons is almost teary-eyed at the prospect of bringing back the former glories. "Restoring and delivering of this building is the closest we men can get to giving birth. It's very special."

To donate to the restoration of Leeds City Varieties, call 0113 391 7777, go to www.cityvarieties.co.uk or post to City Varieties Music Hall, 24 Eastgate, Leeds LS2 7JL.

Comedian looks back on good old days

Barry Cryer, then a student at Leeds University, got his big break at the City Varieties. "My first job was doing stand-up in a student revue at the old Empire Theatre in Briggate," he says. "I was spotted in the show by the Josephs, who then ran City Varieties, and offered a week's work at their theatre. That was in 1956 and the start of my professional career. Having failed my exams anyway, I didn't go back to university.

"After that I was a working comedian in London, but performed a lot at Leeds City Varieties, often in a double act with Bernard Cribbins in The Good Old Days.

"I remember once that Barney Colehan managed to get Eartha Kitt to come up, but she complained rather 'colourfully' about her dressing room. Barney mollified her by telling her that it was the same dressing room used by the young Charlie Chaplin back in the 1890s. She was in tears, she was so overwhelmed. Barney, of course, had no idea which dressing room had been used by Chaplin.

"There was said to be a non-specific ghost at the Varieties but I never saw it and didn't really hang about in the corridors on the off-chance. There was direct access to the bar from the stage, and coming up to the interval we'd race each other to get there. My record was 38 seconds, I think.

"The Varieties looked much bigger on The Good Old Days than it actually was. Barney had a way with smoke and mirrors. Everyone had to come on and go off stage right, as there was just a brick wall on the other side. One night there was an French "apache" act – a kind of dance where the woman gets thrown around a bit by the man and she then fights back. On this particular night, the man got thrown the wrong way and actually hit the wall... Not a pretty sight.

"Barney worked very hard to get Bing Crosby. He finally met him while he was performing at the London Palladium and got a verbal agreement. I think Crosby was intrigued by the sound of the

show, as he remembered the days of Vaudeville. Sadly, Crosby never made it to Leeds because he died on a golf course not long after that conversation.

"I have so many fantastic memories of the City Varieties and can't wait to see it when it reopens next year. I hope I'll perform there again."