No whistling backstage, leave a ghost light on and whatever you do, don’t say the name of ‘the Scottish play’ – we dive into the world of theatrical superstitions and explore their origins.

From avoiding uttering the words ‘good luck’ (say ‘break a leg’) to never speaking the name ‘Macbeth’, theatre folk are a jumpy lot when it comes to curses and superstitions. This is perhaps due to the sheer amount that could go wrong during or leading up to a live performance, the need for a collective confidence that ‘all will be well’ or the close connection between magic, illusion, witchcraft and the theatre.

While the real origins may have been lost over time, many of the superstitions that are still followed today have roots in Elizabethan culture. Here are some theatrical superstitions you might know, and some you may not:

Saying ‘The Scottish play’

I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you!

Macbeth, Act 4, Scene 1

Most people who have been near a theatre understand that when performing Shakespeare’s Macbeth, you should avoid saying the play’s name when inside the theatre, instead calling it ‘the Scottish play’. Like many plays of the time, it deals with some pretty dark themes – witches, spells, vengeful ghosts, murder and betrayal – but no other play of Shakespeare’s has the eerily cursed performance history of Macbeth.

Since its first performance in 1606, productions of The Scottish Play have been plagued with illness, disaster and even death, including a stint of being banned by James I. According to one legend, the actor who played Lady Macbeth on the play’s opening night died, forcing the bard himself to take over the role, while others were apparently injured when real knives were accidentally used instead of prop knives.

In America in 1849, a riot broke out between fans for Edwin Forrest and William Macready (pictured), resulting in over 20 deaths and 100 injuries. And in the Old Vic’s 1937 production, Laurence Olivier was famously almost killed by a falling stage weight, while the theatre manager died and the director and actor playing Lady Macbeth were injured in a car accident. Unlucky, indeed.

Fans of the actor William Macready, shown here as Macbeth c.1821, and rival fans of Edwin Forrest started a riot during a performance in Astor Place Opera House, New York, in 1849
Painting by John Jackson © RSC Theatre Collection Browse and license our images

If you do accidentally utter the name, you can counteract it by going outside, running around the theatre three times, maybe even spitting on the ground, and then knocking to be let back in.

more on the curse of Macbeth

Cursed objects

Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty

Richard II, Act 4, Scene 1

According to theatrical superstition, certain objects are ‘cursed’ and should never be brought on stage, one of them being the peacock feather. In Shakespeare’s time, peacock feathers were generally considered bad luck; the feather’s iconic ‘eye’ pattern being interpreted as ‘the evil eye’. But the peacock also has ancient cultural and religious symbolism.

For example, in Ancient Greek mythology, the goddess Hera recruited the hundred-eyed ‘all seeing’ giant Argus to watch over Io, who was Zeus’ lover disguised as a cow. Argus was slain, so Hera transferred his many eyes onto the tail of the peacock, and it became Hera’s sacred bird. It may be that the Christian rejection of paganism and polytheism combined with the story of Hera’s fury and Argus’ cruel death became associated with the peacock feather – so much that some people today still believe the feathers will attract misfortune, jealousy and spite.

In a similar way, mirrors were also cursed objects that actors wanted nothing to do with. The Ancient Romans believed mirrors had the ability to capture the soul or alter its essence – hence inviting seven years of bad luck if you broke one. In a more practical sense, mirrors are a bit of a technical nightmare to work with, either reflecting the wrong parts of the stage to the audience or sending light off into the wrong places. So, there may be more than mere superstition at play.

Finally, it is considered very bad luck to use real money and real jewellery on stage – this may have been to do with it being too much of a temptation for poor actors and audience members.

After his deposition, Richard (David Tennant) demands a mirror and examines his reflection. Richard II, 2013, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. Directed by Gregory Doran, designed by Stephen Brimson Lewis.
Photo by Kwame Lestrade © RSC Browse and license our images

‘Best foot forward’

Nay, but make haste; the better foot before

King John, Act  4, Scene 2

Similar to avoiding cracks in the pavement or not walking over graves, stepping in the wrong place is historically a gold mine for curses. For actors it’s even more crucial, especially when you consider the dangers of a dark backstage or the potential to go hurtling off into the audience. Therefore, actors will make sure to step forward with their ‘best foot’ (in this case, left) when exiting a dressing room or stepping onto the stage.

Like whistling backstage, this could have its origins with sailors who would have also worked shifts as stagehands, and who were also a highly superstitious community. Sailors believed they should step onto the ship with their right foot or risk the voyage being cursed. In practical terms, it would have also ensured a more secure boarding (most early sailors could not swim) as many would have been right-footed. This could have been deliberately inverted for actors, or perhaps the dressing room was considered dry land and the stage ‘the ship’ (the ‘boards’ of stages could have reminded the sailors of the ship’s deck.)

The origin of stepping forward with the left could also have referred to the belief that the left side of the body (where the heart is) was associated with feeling and emotion, while the right side was associated with rationality and logic. For an actor about to command the emotions of the audience, leading with the left would have been crucial.

Never light three candles

Out, out, brief candle!

Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5

Another superstition is that three candles must never be lit at once in the theatre, or risk disaster befalling the show - but why? Firstly, three is a highly mystical number. In some religions, the number three often appears as denoting good (e.g. the Christian church’s Holy Trinity, Jesus being resurrected after three days). But there are also older, pagan traditions of the number holding power, whether in objects or rituals, which would have lingered on long after pagan practices were outlawed (think of the Apostle Paul denying Jesus three times). For example, the Rule of Three was a pagan belief that whatever energy you put out into the world – good or bad – would return to you threefold.

The other side of this superstition is a more practical one – theatres were notoriously at risk of burning down (fire famously destroyed The Globe in 1613, the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden in 1808 and the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in 1926). In early modern theatres, the only lighting would have been from candles. So, it’s natural that the two concerns may have been blended to scare actors and stagehands into being less liberal with their candle lighting.

A man eating food at a 16th century wooden table wth candles
Playing with fire - three lit candles are perhaps an ominous sign for Thomas Cromwell (Ben Miles) in The Mirror and The Light, directed by Jeremy Herrin, Gielgud Theatre, London, 2021
Photo by Marc Brenner © RSC Browse and license our images

A bad dress rehearsal means a good opening

BOTTOM
We will meet; and there we may rehearse most
obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu.

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 1, Scene 2

Less routed in cultural or religious beliefs, the adage that a bad dress rehearsal will ensure a good opening night will be familiar to anyone who has been in a theatre production. In fact, it usually only gets wheeled out in the case of a poor dress rehearsal, usually by a nervous director trying to buck up the spirits of a downtrodden cast.

Is there any truth in it? Who knows, but a bad dress rehearsal could encourage more concentration and line learning, or the fated promise of a good opening night might make it easier for the cast to get a good night’s sleep!

Two men, one in drag, talk through a fake wall held by another man
The mechanicals' disastrous dress rehearsal precedes a strangely successful production of Pyramus and Thisbe in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Pictured, Bottom (Daniel Ryan) as Pyramus, Snout (Rod Arthur) as Wall and Flute (Orlando Wells) as Thisbe, in Michael Boyd's production for the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, 1999
Photo by Donald Cooper © RSC Browse and license our images

To find out more about theatrical superstitions and ghostly goings-on in our theatres, join one of our new guided ghost tours, starting in January 2025.

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