What's in a name? The ego of a corporate monster, probably

It's not often you hear about public demand for the restoration of a venue's original name

I privately gave a cheer this week when I read of a small, parochial piece of arts news, a little item about a change of a theatre's name in Oxford. The Apollo Theatre, once the New Theatre, reverted to its old or New name. It is to be the New Theatre once more.

Along with dozens of theatres, cinemas and arenas, the Apollo was part of the arts empire originally owned by the entrepreneur Paul Gregg, and now owned by the American company Clear Channel Entertainment. CCE has now bowed to public demand in Oxford and is changing the name back after many years of being an Apollo. A spokesman told The Stage newspaper that the company was responding to local opinion.

It's not often that you hear of public demand for the restoration of a name. Personally I would like every pub now bearing the pathetically unfunny name Firkin to be changed back by law. But failing that, I will take pleasure that the will of the people of Oxford has prevailed, and they have their theatre back.

The Apollo name was stuck on a number of arts venues, with no concern that the ticket-buying public might have had some affection for the original names. I was peeved when the Odeon Hammersmith became an Apollo. It was only a pop venue; but it had something of a history, and was the scene of Ziggy Stardust's farewell, for what that's worth. Names bear their share of cultural history, however small or local.

It takes a pretty monstrous corporate ego to kill off names willy nilly. Yet such egos and such lack of concern for the way the public holds names of cultural institutions dear can be found in the public sector too. Who actually gave the director and trustees of the Tate the right to remove the definite article in the title of a national institution that will long outlive them? I have yet to meet a single person who says: "I went to Tate at the weekend." But then maybe I don't get out enough. Because neither did I ever meet a single person who said: "I'm just off to the Royal National Theatre." That name change, introduced more than a decade ago, never caught on even with National Theatre staff who illogically but thankfully use NT as the theatre's logo and in its brochures and programmes.

Changing names is a dicey business. Some years ago, my old chum Paul Blackman, an innovative arts manager, changed the Battersea Arts centre to BAC, which it remains. He told me that "arts centre" sounded too 1970s. But BAC now sounds to me too 1990s. I suspect "arts centre" could soon be in vogue again. BAC at least has a connection to the original name. What logic is there in the Poole Arts Centre changing its name to The Lighthouse? I wonder how many families driving to see the Lighthouse at Poole have been thoroughly disappointed to find an arts centre at the end of their journey.

Names of arts venues are also susceptible to being changed in return for a a donation from a sponsor. But this too can prove a fraught strategy. The Jerwood Foundation discovered hostility when it tried to rename the Royal Court theatre in London, and has had to compromise by having its name up in lights but with the odd wording "The Jerwood Theatres at the Royal Court". The Royal Court is a name with a place in the nation's cultural history, a name that suggests a certain style of writing and acting. It would have been crass to lose it.

What's in a name? A lot. A name of an arts venue suggests not just a house style, but also conjures up great performances, memorable evenings, a slice of one's life. Audiences rightly feel proprietorial about their local venues. Corporations, the boards and directors of national institutions and individual sponsors should bear that in mind when they bring their egos into play and change names that are held in public affection. The theatregoers of Oxford have won a small but significant victory.

¿ A new book from the Victoria and Albert Museum tells the story of Henry Cole. Why, I wonder, after reading about him, did we not all learn about this remarkable gent at school? He not only started the V&A, the Royal Albert Hall and the Royal College of Art; he was also behind the Great Exhibition; he reorganised the Public Records Office, was ahead of Isambard Kingdom Brunel in the standardisation of railway gauges, and invented the Christmas card and the public toilet. Which of today's museum directors will be able to boast a record of achievement to compare with that little list?

¿ Reese Witherspoon, the Hollywood actor playing Becky Sharp in a new film version of Thackeray's Vanity Fair, is pregnant. No matter. If the star's shape doesn't fit the book, make the book fit the star's shape. The producers are having the story rewritten to accommodate Ms Witherspoon's temporary bulk. Why let a classic story stand in the way of a good pregnancy? Next: Pride and Prejudice, in which Mr Darcy holds Reese's hand as she goes into labour.

d.lister@independent.co.uk