The Secret Garden musical at York Theatre Royal – review

The Secret Garden – The Musical is credited to Marsha Norman (book and lyrics) and Lucy Simon (music), but in fact, much of it is as Frances Hodgson Burnett wrote it, minus the opening section in India and with the inclusion of kyphosis, real and potential, severely diluted.

Norman’s book is admirably economical and Simon’s sense of melody appealing, though many of the songs are rather too similar. Multi-Tony Award winner in 1991, its distinction in 2026 owes much to the inspired direction of John Doyle and the remarkable skills of his actor-musicians – that and the wonderful performance of Estella Evans as Mary Lennox (on press night), of which more later.

The plot of The Secret Garden is all about overcoming loss and finding where you belong. Mary Lennox loses both her parents in a cholera outbreak and, after sundry adventures, is shipped home to live with her uncle Archibald Craven in Yorkshire, only to find that this is a house of mourning. Ten years previously, Lily, Archibald’s wife, in an advanced stage of pregnancy, had an accident in the garden as a result of which she died, having given birth to the extremely delicate Colin, who now keeps to his room, indulged by all the staff and convinced that he is dying.

Mary, helped by her maid Martha, her brother Dickon and the tuneful contribution of a robin, finds Lily’s garden, now secret because Archibald declared it out of bounds, and gradually restores Colin to health by persuading him to spend time in the garden. A healing process for Archibald also forms part of the musical’s arc.

Doyle is his own scenic designer along with David L Arsenault, and much of the furniture is musical instruments (piano and harp), together with chests and packing cases, billowing curtains, and the rest. And it is the music that dominates: an ensemble of a dozen players scattered throughout the set, with cello, double bass, violins, clarinet, accordion, trumpet, etc., all played to an exceptional standard. Catherine Jayes’ reduced orchestration is a triumph. A word for the piping robin, too!

The action takes place in the limited forestage space, in front of (very often) the full orchestral forces, with no pretence at a realistic setting – there is a peculiar delight in seeing Andre Refig, playing Archibald’s doctor brother, fresh from a fraternal set to, sitting at the piano and picking up a violin! Both brothers (Henry Jenkinson gloriously gloomy as Archibald) row with conviction and, like much of the cast, mount a triple threat: actors, musicians, singers.

So it is with Catrin Mai Edwards, the spirited Martha, Elliot Mackenzie, a rather mature 12-year-old, but radiating curiosity and devotion, and Joanna Hickman as Lily. A protective ghost throughout, she sings with great purity while whirling in and out and around the action, often with a cello.

And that leaves the only two non-instrumentalists, the double-cast children. Dexter Pulling is convincing as Colin, making a huge fuss to begin with, but gradually accepting that he is not going to die. Evans is a perfect Mary Lennox, spirited, determined, capable of fury and the well-timed putdown, singing with enthusiasm and accuracy. Gabrielle Dalton chose to costume her in contemporary garb – one of many decisions from the creative staff that seem just right.