Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been reflecting on a conversation with my late brother-in-law that took place about 45 years ago.

To provide some context, he spent 15 years in the mid-20th century “treading the boards” on stages across England. Although he had achieved considerable success as a character actor in Britain, he felt called to return home. Back in Canada, he became involved in the country’s growing theatre scene and was a regular cast member in several CBC productions.

In the early 1970s, he transitioned into radio, where his daily broadcast became one of the most listened-to commentary programs on the West Coast.

One evening in the late 1970s, over a fine bottle of wine, I asked him why he had left the theatre.

John took a moment, staring at the smoke curling from the cigarette in his fingers, and replied, “I did not leave the theatre, I left the theatre industry.”

He continued, “An actor constantly strives to forge a direct connection with their audience — that electrifying embrace which occurs when the people in the house fully commit to participating in the expression of your art. It’s addiction that you feed with every performance to each new audience and it doesn’t matter what the venue is — it could be large or small, elaborate or simple, because it’s not about the stage, it’s all about creating a relationship with the people.”

“That is what the theatre industry does not truly understand … They think it’s about the building and the paraphernalia — the staging, so to speak — which is the furthest thing from the truth. A cast which, show after show, captures their audience will fill the seats of a production held in a cow barn.”

“When the actor’s art becomes the equivalent of, or secondary to, the building, the gadgets, the seating, the lobby and the money, then theatre becomes an industry.”

He concluded, “I left the industry.”

I’ve been mulling over that conversation and wonder what John would think about demolishing the 110-year-old Royal George and replacing it with a proposed building in which the “lobby” space is larger than the theatre’s public area. The plans also include two floors with public lounges — one with a terrace — a restaurant and an undefined multi-purpose room.

In short, a building in which the theatre itself is a relatively minor component.

Now, let’s set the musings aside and address specifics in the proposal.

We begin with the façade and fly tower.

Verbal descriptions of “height” can be difficult to visualize without reference points. The proponents suggest the pediment on the new façade will be only about three feet taller, and the new fly tower about five feet taller than what currently exists.

What they fail to illustrate is how those additional three feet affect the street view at human scale. Within the context of the current streetscape, this modest height increase would create a visually dominant feature that disrupts Queen Street’s architectural rhythm.

As for the claim that the fly tower is “a slight bit” taller and set farther back to mitigate visual impact — that might be valid if the tower’s proportions were consistent with the current one.

However, using the scale included in the submitted drawings, I conservatively estimate the proposed tower is at least three times the width of the existing structure.

This significant increase in horizontal mass, combined with the five additional feet in height, would create a looming dark backdrop on this stretch of Queen Street.

The claim that the structure will be visually screened by tree cover during the six months when leaves are present — peak tourist season — is also questionable. I’ve taken photographs from several angles and remain unconvinced. And what happens when the leaves fall?

In 1986, the Town of Niagara-on-the-Lake created the Queen-Picton Heritage District to protect and preserve Old Town’s historical character.

This application risks undermining the district’s founding principles by demolishing three 19th-century buildings and significantly altering the streetscapes of both Queen and Victoria streets.

It also raises questions about how many minor variances or special bylaw provisions will be needed to enable this development.

Once this precedent is set, how will the town defend its bylaws on issues such as lot coverage and building height? Will other developers, who have previously adhered to existing zoning, be left with a legal challenge opportunity?

In a previous column, I referred to this proposed design as a “behemoth” (“Arch-i-text: Analyzing the Shaw’s future plans for the Royal George Theatre,” The Lake Report, June 19). And it truly is.

Respectfully, I urge the proponents to reconsider. There are so many better alternatives worth exploring.

Brian Marshall is a NOTL realtor, author and expert consultant on architectural design, restoration and heritage.