I had the good fortune to be on the Theatre Faculty at Northwest when it was decided that a new Studio/Black Box Theater would be built. I was chosen by my colleagues to be the unofficial spokesperson for the group whenever something needed to be said or reported on.We began working with the architects and theater consultants, and I found myself becoming more and more fascinated with the process every day.

 

By that point in my career, I had already been designing lighting and scenery and had worked in many theaters of all sizes and shapes. I knew what it meant to work in a great theatre—and, conversely, I was just as familiar with not-so-great ones.Importantly, I was able to communicate that to the committee—but even more importantly, to the architects and consultants.When construction began on-site, I asked for and was given my own full set of plans, a hard hat, and, most importantly, carte blanche to visit the construction site whenever I wanted (which was conveniently right outside my office window!).

 

I became intimately familiar with what was happening on a daily basis.I could ask questions and offer input as things were happening. In fact, on one occasion, I noticed a wall being framed in where a door was supposed to go. I spoke to the foreman, who then called the architect. Lo and behold, a door was supposed to be installed—disaster averted!

 

A great theatre consultant listens. How is the space going to be used? WHO is using it? WHAT types of theatre will be produced in the space? Is it one of multiple other theaters or a stand alone space? What is the budget? A project can be broken at this point. If the planning of the foundation and the construction of the foundation itself is not strong, the project is most likely doomed to failure.The packet of information directly below this contains marked up drawings, meeting reports and communications back and forth with the architect and theatre consultant.