Backstage Takes Centre Stage
by Nick Smurthwaite
Theatre must always move with the times, be it in content, presentation or technical know-how. As the South Bank building approaches its 35th anniversary, some of the National’s backstage machinery is starting to feel its age.
Nobody who has followed the fortunes of the National would ever imagine that its technical facilities were anything other than ultra-efficient and bang up to date. However the organisation’s technical wonks know better, and it is they who have lobbied the holders of the pursestrings for more capital investment in the mighty machinery that enables directors and designers to realise their dreams.
“Designers often want big, heavy chunks of set, not delicate painted backdrops, and we want to be able to say to them, ‘The stage is your palette and you can do what you like with it,’” explains Rob Barnard, the National’s head of technical resources.
Of course sometimes Rob and his team of operators and engineers are moved
to raise a restraining hand and say “no”, or at least “we’ll go away and think about it.”
Their job is to come up with solutions to impossible creative dreams. They normally attend an early pre-production meeting where the designer presents a scaled-down model of the set to the production team, then after that they liaise with the production manager to work out how they can best achieve the required effects and machinations.
When I met up with them, the team was pondering one designer’s request for a full-blown earthquake involving the Olivier’s famous drum revolve.
“We have to consider what is physically possible,” says Rob. “Sometimes the equipment is just not designed to do what’s asked of it.”
In the current Olivier production of Frankenstein, a massive gantry containing many hundreds of lightbulbs is suspended from the ceiling above the audience. It is used to spectacular effect in the show, but its installation was a major headache for the technical team. A specialist engineer had to be brought in to advise on safety and load-bearing issues.
As part of the National’s forthcoming refurbishment programme, the Olivier is being fitted with a new power-flying system – the means by which large pieces of scenery are lowered onto and hoisted off the stage. This complex engineering procedure is being undertaken mostly at night, but the auditorium is actually closing for three weeks during the run of Frankenstein so that a crack team of engineers can be drafted in to make the necessary modifications.
So why does the existing system, which has worked satisfactorily for the past 30-odd years, need replacing?
“Because of its age most of the major components in the present system are no longer available,” says project manager Jamie Taylor. “We are having to buy a brand new system which will greatly increase our technical functionality. Basically it will allow us to perform greater and more complex operations in future shows.”
The unusual hexagon shape of the Olivier (most stages are rectangular or square) means that the new system has to be completely bespoke, adding to the complexity of its installation. The old system had 127 separate hoists, each one individually controllable. The new system will have 168 points of flying, all capable of lifting at least 200 kilograms.
Jamie’s biggest challenge while Frankenstein is running is to coordinate the engineering work around the performances and the daytime activities in the Olivier, such as understudy rehearsals and technical fit-ups. “As far as I’m concerned, the company and the audience shouldn’t even be aware that there is any work going on.”
To further explain how the new system would work, Jamie and Rob invited me to visit the National’s 30-metre fly tower, accessible only by a vertical coffin masquerading as a lift. But the discomfort of being crammed into this tiny metal container was nothing compared to the trauma of being 100 feet above the Olivier stage, looking down through a steel latticework floor onto the tiny figures below.
The power-flying system is actually controlled from the fly floor 13m above the stage, or half-way down the fly tower, by just one operator working at a bespoke computerised control desk on which the whole show can be mapped out in three dimensions. This is virtual theatre that can be realised without ever having to step onto the real stage.
By far the National’s most celebrated piece of kit is the Olivier’s world-famous drum revolve – a massive 150-ton dustbin, as one of the techies described it – that rises, spins and opens up to magical effects. Rotating at 1.1m per second, it can deliver whole sets within the blinking of an eye.
As its name suggests, the drum revolve is a giant rotating stage within a stage. Beneath its disc-like surface are two huge elevators that can be raised and lowered 8m below stage level, allowing large pieces of scenery to be loaded via four big doors. It was built into the original design of the National in the 1970s and, in its day, was a ground-breaking innovation in British theatre.
However the electrical control system used to work it was neither sophisticated nor robust enough to deliver the performance characteristics people demanded of it. Fuses would blow during a performance and it was soon considered to be too much of a safety hazard. It languished, unused and unloved, for more than a decade.
Various modifications were made over the years to improve its electrical and control systems and the elevators were successfully deployed in Howard Davies’ 1988 production of The Shaughraun, the scenic elevator providing a stunning effect of a castle and moorland rising out of the mist. It was also used to spectacular effect in The Wind in the Willows in 1990, though Rob Barnard can recall some stressful malfunctions.
On his arrival at the National as Director in 2003, Nicholas Hytner was determined to use the drum again in his production of Philip Pullman’s epic His Dark Materials, which meant the technical team were working right up to the opening of the show to have it in good working order. The electrical and control systems were completely replaced, allowing rooms and landscapes to whirl up from the bowels of the Olivier. Since then the drum has been in constant use, serving more than 50 shows.
For one production, Oedipus, director Jonathan Kent requested that the revolve should rotate only once, very slowly, over the timespan of one hour. “It would have been like trying to drive your car at 1mph in fifth gear,” says stage engineer Michael Lane. “We feared the motors would overheat because we’d be running it too slowly. So we had to come up with a way of leaving the speed the same but making it possible to turn the revolve once in 70 minutes. And we managed it in the end.
“For me the most enjoyable part of what we do is to translate an artistic idea into an engineering format.”
The Lyttelton has equally impressive systems, some of which are overdue for rejuvenation, such as the manually operated counterweight flying. Rob Barnard is already looking forward to the day when an electronically powered system can be installed. However, the hydraulically powered elevators in the Lyttelton are designed to facilitate quick change-overs in the repertory, so that one set can replace another within the space of three to four hours.
The most adaptable of the three auditoriums is the 400-seat Cottesloe, the stage of which is on a screw-jack system so it can be elevated or lowered according to needs. There is also flexible seating to accommodate different configurations. At present this is done manually, but there are plans afoot to make the reconfiguration process fully automated when the Cottesloe is reinvented as the Dorfman Theatre.
Between them, the National’s three auditoriums can deliver a complete range of theatrical experience, both technically and artistically. In the years ahead that experience is likely to be greatly enhanced by the acquisition of more efficient and versatile equipment.
© Nick Smurthwaite, March 2011
Nick Smurthwaite is a freelance journalist and author





