Rising above the Broadway since 1910, the New Wimbledon Theatre's golden goddess has witnessed two world wars, the Blitz, and decades of theatrical history. The statue known as Laetitia, the Roman goddess of gaiety, crowns the Grade II listed Edwardian building, but spent much of the Second World War hidden away rather than watching over Wimbledon.
An Edwardian Temple of Entertainment
The theatre opened on 26 December 1910 with the pantomime "Jack and Jill", built on the site of a large house with spacious grounds. Designed by architects Cecil Aubrey Massey and Roy Young, with some sources suggesting a 1908 design by Frank H. Jones, the building was the vision of entrepreneur J.B. Mulholland, who also owned the King's Theatre in Hammersmith. The resulting structure, with its 1,670 seats across three levels, remains the eighth largest theatre in London.
Mulholland's ambition produced more than just scale. The New Wimbledon Theatre is reportedly the only British theatre to contain a Victorian-style Turkish bath in its basement, a curious amenity reflecting the opulence of the Edwardian entertainment era.
The Goddess of Gaiety
From its earliest days, the theatre's identity has been inseparable from its crowning figure. Laetitia, named from the Latin "laeta" meaning happy, glad, or prosperous, holds a laurel crown as her symbol of celebration. The Roman goddess of gaiety, happiness, and celebration seemed fitting patronage for a venue dedicated to entertainment.
Locals often refer to the figure simply as the theatre's "angel", though her classical origins place her firmly among Roman mythology rather than Christian tradition. The original statue stood in place from 1910, weathering the elements and presiding over Wimbledon's theatrical life.
A Strategic Removal
When the Second World War reached London, even decorative statues became matters of wartime strategy. The golden figure of Laetitia was removed during the conflict, though the precise date remains unrecorded in accessible sources. The reasoning was distinctly modern: authorities feared the gleaming statue might serve as a direction-finding device for German bombers navigating towards London.
This precaution reflected the paranoia and practical defensive measures that characterised the Home Front. The Blitz saw countless London landmarks altered, camouflaged, or dismantled in the name of civil defence. From the removal of directional signs to the blackout curtains that darkened every street, the war transformed the visible landscape of the capital.
The theatre itself survived the war without major recorded damage, though the absence of its golden crown marked the building through those difficult years. The statue's removal was precautionary rather than responsive to destruction; the goddess was hidden to prevent harm rather than repaired after it.
The Long Return
Laetitia did not immediately reclaim her perch once peace returned. The statue remained absent for decades, with the theatre continuing its programming crowned only by its Edwardian architecture. Not until 1991 was the golden goddess restored to her rightful position above the Broadway.
That replacement came as part of broader refurbishments that swept through the theatre during the 1990s. Wimbledon Civic Theatre Trust oversaw a multimillion-pound project that modernised the venue while respecting its heritage. Later work in 1998 added new backstage facilities, a fly tower, complete re-seating of the orchestra stalls, and comprehensive interior redecoration.
The theatre closed for an entire year during these late 1990s renovations, reopening to resume its role as a cornerstone of Wimbledon's cultural life. The return of Laetitia in 1991 marked both a restoration of the building's original 1910 design and something more symbolic: the reassertion of celebration and gaiety after the long shadow of war.
A Century of Resilience
The New Wimbledon Theatre's history since the goddess's return has not been without turbulence. The venue fell into severe financial difficulties in 2003, forcing a closure that might have ended its theatrical life permanently. A deal reached in autumn 2003 saw Ambassador Theatre Group assume management, and by February 2004 the venue reopened under its current name: New Wimbledon Theatre.
Throughout these transformations, the golden figure has remained. Architects Massey and Young, working in partnership from 1909, produced a building that has survived two world wars, financial crises, and changing tastes in entertainment. Massey, a pupil of Bertie Crewe who was born in Lambeth in 1880 and died in Wallington in 1960, never saw the 1991 restoration of his original design element.
Today, audiences entering the theatre for touring productions, pantomime, or local events pass beneath the same golden goddess that greeted their Edwardian predecessors. Her survival, first through precautionary wartime hiding and later through deliberate restoration, embodies the resilience of Wimbledon's cultural institutions.