Keys jangle as the double doors of the prison chapel are unlocked. Inmates at Bullingdon Prison prepare to return to their cells. Then there is a sudden bang, followed by shouting and stamping of feet outside.

The outer, unlocked chapel door is slammed shut as there is a surge for the door.

Through the bars, inmates can see what's going on and are shouting and egging the others on. As I freeze and try to look invisible, pressed against the wall, the inner door is quickly shut and locked. Peace descends and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

In the middle of all this, a middle-aged man approaches me. He holds out his hand and, in a resonant, confident voice, introduces himself.

"Hello, I'm Julius Caesar."

But his real name is Dave and he heads the cast of the prison's most ambitious project - staging Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. In all, 65 inmates will be taking part, 40 as actors, 15 backstage and ten as musicians, who are both writing and performing the original music.

Dave is 43 and has no previous knowledge of the play. "I've read some Shakespeare but not this one. I'm really enjoying it though. I knew all my lines, word-perfect, within two weeks," he says.

"The professional back-up is amazing. We couldn't do it without these guys," Dave adds, pointing towards the group in the middle of the room who have stayed behind.

They include professional director Stephen Langridge and musician Sara Lee - who each have more than ten years' experience working on prison productions - and a professional actor, Adam Ainsworth, who is playing Brutus. The team has been brought in for seven weeks, spending four hours a day, five days a week, rehearsing with the inmates.

For four days, from May 5-8, HMP Bullingdon will open its doors to the public. But there's a small catch. Anyone who wants to see the play will have to apply for tickets - by Tuesday - undergo security clearance, and go through rigorous checks and more than a few large, locked doors to get in.

The play has come about thanks to the Irene Taylor Trust. Named after the late wife of the former Lord Chief Justice Taylor, the charity exists to rehabilitate inmates through education.

Sara says: "It's about more than just a play. It teaches discipline and knowledge which can be used in other areas of the inmates' lives." I am taken down to the music room to speak to some of the inmates taking part. The security guards thought it was safer and easier to do it that way, rather than leave me in the chapel with inmates who might not take too kindly to my presence.

Chris is in his 40s and serving a three-year sentence. He is articulate, admits to being self-employed on the outside but doesn't want to say what he's in for, or to give too many details in case he is recognised. "Some might say that prisoners should be here to be punished and not to take part in things like this, but this is not just a play. It is the whole concept of education and educating. For the four hours you are here a day you are treated like a person, not like a prisoner," he says.

"It gives you the chance to be creative. People are working together and you can see the change in them. Some are much more confident than they were before.

"People outside might disapprove but then there are others who would argue that having your liberty taken away from you is enough."

Chris has a powerful singing voice and enjoys working as part of a team. "Songwriting is something I've always wanted to do but never seemed to find the time."

He smiles at the irony of what he has said and admits that writing the words to the songs, using modern language to fit in with the Shakespearean play, is challenging and absorbing. It also passes the time rather well.

Sharing the music room with him is a small band of inmates with a large amount of confidence. Some of that is due to this production. Matt, a shy, well-spoken 22-year-old, is the bass guitarist. His biggest concern is making a mistake and letting the others down. He has a parole board meeting in July and hopes then to leave, having completed three years of a six-year sentence for robbery.

He speaks with a maturity beyond his years and the wisdom of someone who has had more than enough time to reflect on his actions.

"This is my second time in prison. I got two years when I was 15 for the same thing but I didn't learn my lesson. I have now. I've grown up a bit and realise what I did was wrong. I had a drink problem from the age of 13 but that's in the past now."

He has used his time inside well, training and getting NVQ qualifications in motor mechanics. He desperately hopes he will get a mechanics apprenticeship when he leaves. The play, he said, beats the boredom. "It's an escape. I read magazines, like FHM, and realise that I'm missing out on a lot. Doing the music for the play beats the loneliness. I don't think many people will know what three years of loneliness is like.

"I'm not the world's most confident bloke but this morning I went out in front of all the other actors and played the music to them. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have been able to do that, and soon I'll be playing in front of 300 people a night. I hope I don't mess up," he says.

Story date: Saturday 24 April

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.