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Kultur Dokumente
This dissertation is formed of a single case study, employed to analyse contemporary developments in theatre practice and how these are testing the relationship between theatre and its architecture. The dissertation also considers how the established system for designing and delivering buildings fails to meet the specific needs of the arts organisation. The case study begins with an architectural and artistic history of the Battersea Arts Centre, originally Battersea Town Hall, highlighting how the artistic tendencies of the management teams found architectural expression. Plans for redevelopment with Levitt Bernstein Architects in the 1990s and the beginning of the innovative Scratch process are detailed in chapter two. The three key principles of Scratch, improvisation, collaboration and taking time, are examined. Chapter three introduces Haworth Tompkins Architects and examines in more detail how the scratch process was transposed onto the architectural process through the analysis of The Masque of the Red Death, a production by the theatre company Punchdrunk. Chapter three arrives at a definition of the new process called Playgrounding. A subsidiary case study of Teatro Oficina in Sao Paolo is included to highlight a comparative example of an architectural process based on improvisation, collaboration and taking time. In the final part of chapter three the focus shifts to the established architectural process and an analysis of the proposals Playgrounding makes to the orthodoxy of a linear Plan of Work. These proposals are approached in four areas: phasing, conservation, funding and liability. The challenges of stepping outside this system are reflected upon. A conclusion is drawn about the potential of Playgrounding to create a positive framework for managing creative risk taking. Finally, the possibility of a new orthodoxy of theatre space based on this process is considered.
Thanks I would like to thank Professor Alan Short, Dr. Francois Penz and Dr. Alistair Fair at the Architecture Department, University of Cambridge, for their guidance and insight throughout the writing of this dissertation. Dr. Phillip Pattenden, Peterhouse for his continued support of my academic endeavours. Steve Tompkins of Haworth Tompkins Architects for his time and interest in this dissertation. David Jubb, David Micklem and Richard Couldrey of Battersea Arts Centre for giving their time, for their generosity in sharing information, for allowing me constant access to BACs archives and most importantly for making me part of the process. Thanks are also due to everyone who agreed to be interviewed for this dissertation, in particular Jude Kelly, South Bank Centre, whose thoughts on artists, architecture and communities provided a frame for this dissertation. Since completing this dissertation I have begun work as Manager of Parabola Arts Centre in Cheltenham, a newly opened building. I have also been awarded a full AHRC Grant to pursue a PhD in Performance Practice at Exeter University in order to take forward some of the discoveries made through this research. allegragalvin@gmail.com 07793000723
Contents Introduction page 6 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 3.1 Conclusion Interviews conducted Bibliography Appendix List of Illustrations Illustrations page 160 page 155 page 82 page 72 page 71 page 68 3.2 3.3 page 22 Playgrounding: David Jubb and Haworth Tompkins Architects Playgrounding and scratch in The Masque of the Red Death Improvisation Collaboration Taking Time A wider context for Playgrounding: Lina Bo Bardi and Teatro Oficina Playgrounding and the architectural process: Phasing Conservation Funding Liability 2.1 page 14 page 9
The shock of the new: Tom Morris and Levitt Bernstein Architects The beginning of scratch
An architecture of improvisation
Contemporary Theatre Practice informing the Design and Delivery of Capital Arts Projects This dissertation explores an alternative approach to designing and delivering Capital Arts Projects through the medium of a single case study of the Battersea Arts Centre. The principle question posed by this dissertation is What answers can innovative forms of developing theatre, such as Scratch, offer as an alternative approach to the redevelopment of existing space, particularly those for artistic use, in terms of architectural process?. The volatile and complex history of the late Victorian Battersea Arts Centre is investigated. It reveals the changing approaches to conservation and to the making of theatre space in an historic building. Playgrounding is a term coined by David Jubb, the present Co-Artistic Director of Battersea Arts Centre (henceforward BAC). BAC is funded by the Arts Council England as a development organisation. This means that its focus is on supporting and developing new work. BAC developed a process around this remit called Scratch. Scratch is now carried out, with minor variances, in theatres across London (such as the Royal Courts Rough Cuts), in the regions (The Cambridge Junctions Jam nights) and abroad (Sydney Opera House Scratch). Scratch at BAC is based on three principles, necessary to develop a new piece of theatre: the need to experiment and take risks, the need to share ideas and respond to feedback and the need to take time to develop ideas. Playgrounding should be understood as the transposition of these three principles onto the architectural process. By starting the architectural process with the same principles as one would begin the creative process in theatre, Playgrounding has become a design process of architectural improvisation that places artists and audiences at the centre of the architectural process. The dissertation is organised around the three significant periods of the buildings architectural development: The period in which it functioned as a town hall from 1893 to 1965 and was then used as a community arts centre from 1983 to 1996, the period from 1996 to 2004 in which the first major Capital redevelopment was proposed to transform it into a theatre and finally the period in which Playgrounding emerged as a new approach to the architecture from 2004 to 2008. Each chapter will analyse how the artistic principles of the organisation were reflected in the use of the architecture. Chapter one describes BAC in the context of its original function as a town hall, its loss of function in 1965, plans for its demolition and reconstruction, the conservation listing in 1970 and finally its adapted function as a community arts centre from 1983. Chapter two covers the buildings development from a community arts centre into a theatre. The first comprehensive plans for Capital Redevelopment, designed by Levitt Bernstein Architects, will be analysed in some detail. The development and basic principles of the Scratch process will be described. Chapter three will cover the Co-Artistic Directorship of David Jubb and David Micklem, Steve Tompkins work with BAC, the emergence of Playgrounding and the challenges and solutions Playgrounding poses to a traditional
architectural process. Playgrounding will be analysed in more detail in relation to the production of The Masque of the Red Death by the theatre company Punchdrunk. The changing approach to conservation and BACs acceptance onto the English Heritage Pilot Programme for Heritage Partnership Agreements is investigated in this context. A subsidiary case study will be included, highlighting the work of Lina Bo Bardi at Teatro Oficina and its influence on the work taking place at BAC. The discussion will review what alternative Playgrounding offers to the current architectural process for Capital Arts Projects and to the conservation and adaptation of a listed building from the evidence collected. This proposed method for successfully managing the relationship between fabric and function in adapted buildings leads to the recommendation of this approach for three reasons: economical viability, sustainability and increased creativity. The concluding principle is that not only should a building adapt to a new function, a function (even one as specific as theatre) should adapt to a building. By not attempting to impose accepted expectations of theatre configuration and architecture onto an adapted space, practitioners will be forced to step outside the orthodoxies of their form and they will develop new work (architectural and theatrical) that challenges the limits of what we now recognise as theatre space.
Introduction
To
successfully
define
the
alchemy
of
a
theatre
space,
in
words
or
bricks
and
mortar,
is
as
elusive
to
the
writer
as
to
the
architect.
The
debate
has
been
significantly
complicated
since
the
1950s,
when
the
basic
requirements
of
the
audience
being
able
to
see
and
hear
the
performance
were
no
longer
considered
fundamental,
throwing
into
doubt
the
very
essence
of
what
constitutes
a
theatre
space.
The
question
of
what
makes
a
good
theatre
space
belongs
to
the
personal,
protean
writings
of
a
memoir,
or
the
polemic
of
journalism.
And
yet
since
1994
the
Arts
Council
have
spent
1.4
billion
through
Lottery
Funding
developing
arts
buildings.
So
although
the
definition
of
what
makes
a
good
theatre
space
may
be
steeped
in
theoretical
subjectivity
and
contradictions,
the
process
of
building
them
belongs
very
much
to
the
real
world.
A
decade
on
from
the
closing
of
the
Lottery
Fund
and
with
the
prospect
of
capital
funding
re-opening,
the
need
to
consider
in
depth
the
successes
and
failures
of
the
scheme
is
pressing.
The
aims
of
this
dissertation
are
less
ambitious
in
scope,
relying
on
the
research
conducted
by
Alistair
Fair
for
his
recent
PhD
on
British
theatre
architecture
from
1926-1991
and
the
findings
of
the
study
led
by
Professor
Alan
Short,
Designing
Dynamic
Environments
for
the
Performing
[DeDEPA]
to
justify
the
analysis
of
an
alternative
design
and
delivery
process.
As
to
what
makes
a
good
theatre
space,
this
dissertation
necessarily
makes
a
fundamental,
potentially
subjective
assumption.
A
good
theatre
space
is
neither
defined
by
its
technical
capabilities,
including
sightlines,
acoustics,
comfort
of
seating
or
ease
of
lighting
nor
by
a
nave,
rough
found
space
quality
in
the
model
of
Peter
Brooks
experiment
at
Bouffes
du
Nord.
Either
of
these
types
of
theatre
can
be
a
good
performance
space.
To
draw
conclusions
based
on
the
assumption
that
either
one
of
these
has
more
value
than
the
other
would
be
to
measure
current
practice
against
a
yardstick
of
outmoded
values.
In
an
article
introducing
the
findings
of
the
DeDEPA
study
Short
defined
better
buildings
for
the
performing
arts
as
buildings
where
the
original
creative
vision
has
survived
intact.
Let
us
therefore
assume
that
a
good
theatre
is
one
in
which
the
creative
potential
of
the
users
is
fulfilled.
Within
that
context,
this
dissertation
explores
how
innovative
methods
of
making
theatre
could
inform
the
established
design
process
to
encourage
the
evolvement
of
vision
and
the
centrality
of
the
user
throughout
a
capital
project.
The
exploration
is
conducted
through
the
medium
of
a
single
case
study
of
the
Battersea
Arts
Centre.
The
second
parameter
of
this
dissertation
is
defined
by
the
case
study
itself:
it
looks
at
the
process
of
redeveloping
spaces,
rather
than
new
builds.
The
volatile
and
complex
history
of
the
late
Victorian
Battersea
Arts
Centre
[BAC]
reveals
the
changing
approaches
over
the
last
three
decades
to
the
making
of
theatre
space
in
an
historic
building.
Playgrounding,
the
term
for
the
alternative
process
developed
at
BAC,
which
emerged
from
a
collaboration
between
three
key
parties:
Steve
Tompkins,
of
Haworth
Tompkins
Architects,
David
1 2
Building Excellence in the arts: a guide for clients, Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment, 2008, p.3 Short, A., Designing dynamic environments for the performing arts, Theatres, Issue 9, Autumn 2006, p.10
Jubb, the artistic director of BAC and Felix Barrett, the artistic director of the theatre company Punchdrunk. Playgrounding should be understood as the transposition of the principles of innovative methods of making theatre onto the architectural process. By starting the architectural process with the same principles as one would begin the creative process in theatre, Playgrounding has become a design process of architectural improvisation that places artists at the centre of the architectural process. The origins of Playgrounding in BACs architecture and theatre programme, Haworth Tompkinss previous work and Punchdrunks practice will be analysed and the basic characteristics of the process will be explored through the analysis of a particular performance: The Masque of the Red Death by Punchdrunk. In setting a wider context for Playgrounding a subsidiary case study of Teatro Oficina in Sao Paulo is included, highlighting the design process of Lina Bo Bardi and its influence on the work taking place at BAC. The final segment of the dissertation will look at the proposals Playgrounding makes to a traditional architectural process. The dissertation is organised around the three significant periods of the Battersea Arts Centres architectural development: The period in which it functioned as a town hall from 1893 to 1965 and was then converted for use as a community arts centre from 1983 to 1995, the period from 1995 to 2004 in which the first major capital redevelopment was proposed to transform it into a theatre and finally the period in which Playgrounding emerged as a new approach to the architecture from 2004 to the present day. Each chapter will analyse how the artistic principles of the organisation were reflected in the use of the architecture. Alistair Fairs PhD study looked at the historical context of the relationship between drama and architecture and his concluding remarks demonstrate the sheer complexity of the theatre space: The challenge for architects, therefore, is to provide buildings which can act not only as empty containers to be filled with actors, audiences and performances, but also dynamic thresholds which are both abstract and specific, linking the individual and the group, the intangible and the quantifiable, the wider truths of human nature and the fixed local situation, and the past and the present, all the time imposing inevitable limits on the present and future users whilst simultaneously enabling and empowering them by being inspiring yet functional places in which anything is possible. It is little wonder that the architect might struggle to balance quite so many paradoxes in one design brief, particularly as most architects only work on a small number of performance spaces as part of a varied practice. This dissertation aims to draw conclusions that will be relevant for the practical design and delivery of performance spaces. Therefore, rather than singling out particular, often conflicting characteristics that architects should seek to deliver in a performance space, this study will attempt to define an approach that leads the architect and user together through a process of
exploration and discovery, towards a space that reflects their evolving vision and is responsive to the users of the space. Playgrounding is still in its infancy and continues to be tested. This is an account of its beginnings, basic characteristics and potential sphere of influence.
Chapter
One
Battersea
Arts
Centre
in
context
1893
1995
The
Lost
Years
the
unappreciated,
undocumented,
awkward-seeming
time
when
it
was
alive
to
evolution
those
are
the
best
years,
the
time
when
the
building
can
engage
us
at
our
own
level
of
complexity.
Battersea
Arts
Centre
[BAC]
was
originally
Battersea
Town
Hall,
built
in
1893
by
Edward
W.
Mountford.
The
building
sits
facing
south
on
a
one
acre
site
on
Lavender
Hill,
its
size
belied
by
the
relatively
low
faade
and
the
slope
of
the
hill,
hiding
the
depth
of
the
building
from
view
(fig.1).
The
structure
is
made
of
red
brick
and
dressed
in
Monks
Park
Bath
stone
(fig.2).
The
roof
is
made
of
west
Moreland
slate.
Mountford
described
the
style
as
essentially
English
Renaissance,
though
perhaps
treated
somewhat
freely .
The
faade
represents
the
tripartite
structure
that
runs
throughout
the
building:
a
central
section
with
east
and
west
wings.
The
ground
floors
has
large
lunette
windows
either
side
of
a
rounded
portico
supported
on
Corinthian
columns
(fig.3).
This
relatively
simple
linear
composition
provides
the
basic
organisation
of
the
spaces:
three
sections
divided
by
two
spine
corridors
running
from
front
to
back,
each
8
ft
wide
which
Mountford
noted
are
wide
and
well
lighted .
The
first
designs
show
these
corridors
running
the
full
length
of
the
building
(fig.4),
however
it
would
seem
that
Mountford
failed
to
take
into
account
the
considerable
incline
of
Lavender
Hill.
In
consequence
the
town
hall
is
a
building
of
two
halves,
with
each
corridor
coming
abruptly
to
a
flight
of
stairs,
before
continuing
to
the
back
of
the
building
(fig.5).
The
front
half
of
the
building
formed
the
business
side
of
municipal
life:
the
council
chamber,
the
vestry
offices
and
various
departments
of
local
government.
The
back
half
was
dedicated
to
the
ceremonial
side:
the
Grand
Hall
was
built
to
provide
a
suitably
majestic
stage
for
municipal
life.
However
unlike
its
more
imposing
predecessors,
Battersea
Town
Hall
was
built
after
the
zenith
of
municipal
display
and
the
horizon
was
accordingly
modest
in
its
outlook.
The
use
of
Grand
Hall
was
to
be
similar
to
Halls
in
7 6 5 4 3
3 4
Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.11 See Appendix 1 for a biography of Edward W. Mountford 5 th Builder, November 25 , 1893, 393 6 th Builder, November 25 , 1893, 393 7 A description of Liverpool Town Hall, designed by James Wyatt: The reception rooms stretch the whole length of the building and are connected to the banqueting hall by a small ballroom on one side and a luncheon room on the other. This is an excellent arrangement for the circulation of large crowds of people. The Lord Mayor of Liverpool gives four receptions annually, each for 1,500 guests, and he frequently dines 250 people. Cotton, A.C., Town Halls: the planning of modern buildings, London, The Architectural Press, 1936, p.17
other
parts
of
the
Metropolis,
for
concerts,
Bazaars,
Debating
Societies,
University
Extension
Lectures
and
Recreative
entertainments
of
a
high
class
for
the
people.
The
interior
of
the
whole
building
is
treated
relatively
plainly,
except
for
the
profusion
of
marble
and
ornate
mosaic
floor
at
both
the
main
entrance
on
Lavender
Hill
and
the
side
entrance
to
the
Grand
Hall
(figs.
6-9).
Most
rooms
have
high
ceilings
and
plain
windows,
a
simple
cornice
and
wooden
floors.
The
town
hall
was
heated
throughout
by
fireplaces
and
benefited
from
the
natural
light
coming
from
a
courtyard
Mountford
placed
at
the
heart
of
the
building.
The
courtyard
was
gradually
encroached
upon
as
successive
local
architects
attempted
to
reconcile
the
front
and
back
halves
of
the
building,
an
oddity
to
which
a
satisfactory
solution
was
never
found
(figs.10-13).
The
final
characteristic
of
note
is
that
the
building
remains
to
unfinished.
The
brief
for
the
town
hall
stipulated
that
the
architect
should
make
provision
for
an
extension
of
the
buildings
at
some
future
dates
without
injury
to
the
lights
or
architectural
effects.
This
was
not
uncommon
and
examples
of
extensions
planned,
or
merely
allowed
for
were
standard
features
of
town
halls.
Cotton,
author
of
Town
Halls:
the
planning
of
modern
buildings,
wrote
that
the
site
itself
must
be
large
enough
to
contain
the
present
accommodation
and
easily
half
as
much
again.
A
number
of
local
councils
building
their
town
hall
before
the
1860s
found
they
had
outgrown
their
new
premises
before
occupying
them.
Mountford
built
a
large
shell
and
left
the
west
wing
empty,
for
the
unknown
future
needs
of
the
organisation.
Soon
after
the
inauguration
in
1893
the
borough
architect
set
to
work
on
the
first
floor
of
the
west
wing,
building
a
new
staircase,
landing
and
offices
in
1899
(fig.14).
However
the
council
never
expanded
beyond
the
limits
of
Mountfords
original
structure
and
to
date
the
second
floor
of
the
west
wing
remains
undeveloped.
During
the
Second
World
War
the
Shakespeare
Theatre,
which
stood
next
door
to
the
town
hall,
was
bombed.
Only
the
faade
remained
and
in
1957
it
was
completely
demolished
due
to
excessive
bomb
damage.
Under
the
Emergency
Powers
Act
of
1939
Local
Governments
were
able
to
spend
a
portion
of
their
budget
on
entertainment.
This
was
replaced
in
1948
with
a
Local
Government
Act
which
allowed
for
funding
to
continue
supporting
social
and
entertainment
activities
that
had
become
extremely
popular
during
the
war.
It
was
also
during
the
1940s
that
the
government
launched
tentatively
into
public
funding
for
the
arts,
with
the
founding
of
CEMA ,
which
sent
musicians
and
entertainers
into
bomb
shelters
to
lift
the
spirits
of
families
who
were
suddenly
left
homeless.
It
was
the
combination
of
a
loss
of
other
local
options
for
live
entertainment
and
the
increase
in
funding
for
local
government
to
support
these
activities
that
led
to
the
town
hall
employing
an
Entertainments
8
10
11
12
Anon., Programme of Inauguration, Battersea Municipal Buildings and Town Hall, 15.11.1893, Battersea History Library, Misc. File 725.13 BATT, 25 9 Anon., Programme of Inauguration: Battersea Municipal Buildings and Town Hall, 15.11.1893, Misc. File 725.13 BATT, Battersea History Library, p.14 10 Cotton, A.C., Town Halls: the planning of modern buildings, London, The Architectural Press, 1936, p.9 11 1948 Local Government Act gave councils limited power to support cultural activities. The 1948 Act imposed a maximum rate of 6p per pound to be spent on entertainment. 12 CEMA: Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts
10
Officer
who,
from
1948,
put
together
seasons
of
dances,
plays,
lectures
and
talent
contests.
In
the
brochure
for
the
year
1959/60
(fig.15)
the
chairman
of
the
entertainment
committee
wrote
that
[we]
are
happy
in
the
knowledge
that
for
many
residents
in
the
borough
a
night
at
the
Town
Hall
is
an
integral
part
of
their
social
life.
The
building
continued
in
its
function
as
a
town
hall
and
a
focal
point
of
local
social
life
until
1965,
when
the
Greater
London
Council
[GLC]
was
formed
and
Battersea
Borough
was
dissolved
to
become
part
of
Wandsworth
Borough
Council
[WBC].
The
council
moved
to
new
offices
in
a
rented
space
near
Wandsworth
Town
Hall.
The
front
half
of
the
building
was
left
empty
and
quickly
began
to
fall
into
a
state
of
neglect,
whilst
the
Grand
Hall
still
held
occasional
tea
dances
and
disco
nights.
Two
years
later,
in
1967,
WBC
announced
plans
to
have
the
old
town
hall
demolished
and
an
ultra- modern
leisure
centre
built
in
its
place,
extending
onto
the
site
of
the
Shakespeare
Theatre
and
including
a
swimming
pool
and
library
(fig.
16).
Battersea
locals
immediately
came
to
the
defence
of
the
old
town
hall,
saying
it
was
vital
to
the
social
life
of
the
community
and
to
the
memory
of
old
Battersea
Borough.
Alderman
Sidney
Sporle,
then
leader
of
WBC,
clarified
that
the
Grand
Hall
would
remain
intact
and
only
the
disused
municipal
offices
at
the
front
of
the
building
would
be
demolished.
In
the
context
of
1967
Battersea,
these
plans
were
sensible.
The
faade
must
have
presented
a
sorry
picture
of
decrepitude:
still
showing
marks
of
bomb
damage
from
the
blast
that
destroyed
the
Shakespeare
Theatre,
brickwork
that
not
been
cleaned
since
at
least
before
the
war
(and
there
is
no
evidence
of
it
having
been
done
at
all
until
the
1980s)
and
now
boarded
up
against
vandals.
It
also
looked
out
of
place:
whereas
until
the
Second
World
War
it
had
stood
next
to
the
equally
large
and
even
more
opulent
Shakespeare
Theatre
(fig.17),
it
was
now
marooned
on
Lavender
Hill
next
to
a
bomb
site.
Victorian
architecture
had
yet
to
become
fashionable
and
to
a
council
still
struggling
to
house
people
and
contend
with
rising
population
numbers,
the
old
town
hall
was
neither
beautiful
nor
useful.
Battersea
locals
believed
WBC
were
keen
to
erase
the
memory
of
an
independent
Battersea ,
but
it
is
unlikely
this
was
one
of
the
new
councils
priorities.
By
demolishing
the
old
council
offices,
they
could
fit
a
library
and
a
swimming
pool
onto
one
site.
This
would
release
the
Latchmere
baths
and
the
Battersea
library
for
demolition
(also
an
Edward
W.
Mountford
building),
freeing
up
land
valued
at
1.5
million
for
redevelopment
into
much
needed
social
housing.
Although
WBC
did
not
have
the
funding
in
place
to
build
the
new
leisure
centre,
they
had
been
informed
by
the
GLC
that
when
funding
re-opened
for
development
projects,
councils
that
had
designs
drawn
up
and
an
empty
site
in
place
would
find
themselves
at
the
front
of
the
queue.
14 13
13 14
Bicker, H.G., Battersea Town Hall Entertainments Brochure 1959, Battersea History Library, MISC File 725.13 BATT, 9 Consciously or sub-consciously the present councils real motive is to remove the last remaining municipal reminder of the old borough of Battersea in order to stamp their own authority on the district., Eleventh-hour reprieve for Town Hall being sought, South Western Star, 14.7.1967
11
A
local
campaign
was
formed
to
save
the
building
from
demolition,
which
happened
to
coincide
with
the
nascent
movement
for
preservation
of
Victorian
architecture,
attracting
support
from
Pevsner.
These
two
movements,
one
working
from
the
bedrock
of
local
community
voices,
the
other
from
the
higher
echelons
of
power,
formed
a
stranglehold
around
WBCs
plans
for
demolition
and
in
1970
Battersea
Town
Hall,
although
not
the
most
significant
example
of
its
kind,
was
listed
Grade
II*.
Once
it
was
listed,
there
remained
the
problem
of
what
to
do
with
the
space.
A
listing
concerned
itself
only
with
the
architecture,
rather
than
the
purpose
of
a
building.
Battersea
Town
Hall
was
not
alone
in
this
instance.
Other
empty
town
halls
at
the
time
included
Shoreditch,
Holborn,
Hampstead,
Bethnal
Green,
Tottenham
and
Hornsey.
Some
town
halls
have
since
been
restored
as
community
centres,
hotels,
commercial
offices,
serviced
apartments
or
now
house
companies
such
as
Birminghams
Symphony
orchestra
or
the
Urdang
Academy
in
Finsbury
Town
Hall.
As
the
Battersea
Town
Hall
had
already
become
a
focal
point
for
social
activity
and
live
entertainment,
a
council
run
community
arts
centre
was
proposed.
At
this
time
there
was
a
drive
to
put
an
arts
centre
in
every
town
and
unused
buildings
across
the
country,
notably
churches,
were
being
converted
for
the
purpose.
Not
long
after
the
building
re-opened
a
writer
for
Time
Out
questioned
the
wisdom
of
these
conversions:
We
should
be
asking
why
Arts
Centres
continue
to
be
built
or
converted
with
no
positive
idea
of
what
they
are
for
or
who
will
be
using
them
Wandsworth
will
launch
its
reconstituted
Town
Hall
/
Arts
Centre
inevitably
the
usual
problems
will
occur:
lack
of
finance,
lack
of
direction,
confused
thinking
about
why
it
didnt
work
as
any
of
them
expected.
As
predicted,
the
new
arts
centre
quickly
ran
into
difficulties
and
with
the
election
of
a
conservative
council
in
1979
the
building
was
once
again
closed.
A
second
local
campaign
was
formed,
the
arts
centre
was
transferred
into
an
independent
trust
and
for
the
first
time
an
artistic
director
was
employed
to
run
the
building.
It
re-opened
in
1980
as
Battersea
Arts
Centre
under
the
leadership
of
Jude
Kelly,
then
just
twenty
six
years
old.
Kelly
focused
her
energies
on
re-establishing
a
relationship
between
the
building
and
its
community
by
engaging
with
the
buildings
heritage
as
a
town
hall.
For
Kelly
this
meant
the
pursuit
of
essentially
Victorian
principles
of
philanthropy,
fairness
and
democratic
and
social
purpose.
She
prioritised
making
the
building
accessible
and
making
work
that
involved
the
local
community.
Kelly
had
two
studios
installed
on
the
ground
floor,
one
for
dance
and
one
as
a
childrens
cinema.
She
installed
ramps
into
the
building,
a
lift
to
the
first
floor
and
disabled
dark
15 16
15
16
17
18
19
20
The Victorian Society was founded in 1958 See appendix 2 for the full listing 17 In an interview with Anthony Roberts, artistic director of Colchester Arts Centre, 13.07.2009 18 Anon., Nothing Too Arty, Time Out n.154, Feb 2-8 1974, p.16-17 19 th Jude Kelly, Interview with the author, 9 July 2009 20 Very, very local, community-based theatre that very local people could come to and feel it was theirs. The kind of audiences that came to it were very different from those that might come to a normal fringe theatre show. Kelly, J., Interview with the th author, 9 July 2009
12
rooms
on
the
ground
floor.
She
also
had
the
council
chamber
furniture
removed
and
the
space
converted
into
the
main
house,
a
flexible
space
for
workshops
and
theatre
shows
(fig.18-20)
Her
focus
was
breathing
life
back
into
a
building
which
had
once
been
a
focal
point
for
the
community.
She
ran
a
local
theatre
company
and
organised
free
classes
in
pottery,
silk
screen
painting
and
photography.
Kelly
moved
on
in
1985
to
become
the
founder
artistic
director
of
the
West
Yorkshire
Playhouse
and
is
currently
the
artistic
director
of
the
South
Bank
centre.
She
has
built
a
career
out
of
giving
place
meaning
through
the
arts :
In
an
historical
context
your
obligation
is
to
pick
up
the
ropes
of
the
previous
generation,
where
they
have
laid
down
ideas
and
struggled
to
change.
Your
obligation
is
to
keep
that
going.
Kelly
believed
that
by
aligning
the
intentions
of
the
new
arts
centre
with
the
original
purpose
of
the
building
one
could
find
a
dynamic
relationship
between
function
and
architecture.
Discussing
her
work
with
Ronnie
Mulryne,
author
of
Making
Space
for
Theatre,
she
described
the
importance
of
spaces
that
already
have
a
human
history
in
the
very
bones
of
the
building,
a
certain
kind
of
authenticity
you
want
in
such
places
to
join
the
forward
march
of
history.
The
community
arts
centre
stumbled
on
after
Kelly
left
and
it
was
only
after
a
considerable
period
of
upheaval
and
lack
of
direction
(and
financial
uncertainty
with
the
demise
of
the
GLC)
that
the
artistic
directorship
was
taken
on
in
1990
by
the
producer
Paul
Blackman.
By
this
time
any
sense
of
community
around
the
building
had
almost
entirely
evaporated.
Blackman
ran
Battersea
Arts
Centre
for
five
years.
It
was
during
this
time
that
Blackman
dispensed
of
the
buildings
identity
as
a
community
arts
centre
because
he
decided
that
the
concept
had
had
its
day.
24 23 22 21
vision,
tied
to
the
original
social
functions
of
the
building.
Blackman
changed
the
name
to
BAC
and
turned
the
organisation
into
a
Theatre,
doing
away
with
the
traces
of
a
community
centre
along
with
the
pottery
wheels,
disabled
darkroom
and
childrens
cinema.
He
started
actively
programming
the
three
spaces
(studio
1,
studio
2
and
the
main
house),
rather
than
hiring
them
out
to
local
companies,
enacting
a
policy
of
new
writing,
and
visual
/
physical
theatre
with
radical
reinterpretations
of
the
classics.
By
the
time
he
left
in
1995
the
old
town
hall
was
on
the
map
of
cutting
edge
London
fringe
venues
and
BACs
own
productions
and
co-productions
accounted
for
over
half
the
programme.
25
21 22
Jude Kelly, Interview with the author, 9 July 2009 th Jude Kelly, Interview with the author, 9 July 2009 23 Jude Kelly, The West Yorkshire Playhouse, pp.74-79 in Ronnie Mulryne and Margaret Shewring (eds.), Making space for theatre, Stratford, Mulryne and Shewring, 1995 24 th Paul Blackman, in interview with Cedric Porter, BAC Streets ahead of the rest, South London Press, February 10 1995, p.31 25 th Paul Blackman, in interview with Cedric Porter, BAC Streets ahead of the rest, South London Press, February 10 1995, p.31
th
13
Chapter
Two
The
shock
of
the
new:
Tom
Morris
and
Levitt
Bernstein
Architects
Tom
Morris,
who
was
then
primarily
a
journalist,
took
on
the
artistic
directorship
from
Paul
Blackman
in
1995.
Morris
respected
the
work
Blackman
had
done
to
raise
BACs
profile
as
an
important
venue
for
new
work.
He
wanted
to
concentrate
on
making
BAC
a
more
prolific
producing
theatre.
The
shift
in
focus
that
had
occurred
in
the
programme
since
Blackmans
appointment
and
in
Morris
first
year
in
the
post
meant
that
the
function
had
become
gradually
specialized
towards
providing
for
the
needs
of
theatre
makers
working
in
black
box
spaces
with
increasingly
advanced
technical
equipment.
This
required
an
architectural
response
which
was
growing
ever
more
urgent
as
the
relationship
between
the
activity
and
the
spaces
became
progressively
strained.
In
an
early
interview
with
the
new
artistic
director
a
journalist
asked
Morris
What
would
you
do
with
a
million
pounds?
He
replied,
Build
a
beautiful
garden
in
the
middle
of
BAC.
In
1996
Morris
began
making
plans
for
the
buildings
first
ever
comprehensive
redevelopment.
He
enlisted
Axel
Burrough
from
Levitt
Bernstein
Architects
and
plans
were
developed
over
the
following
year.
The
Levitt
Bernstein
Plans
exhibit
a
daring
and
imaginative
response
to
the
building.
Morris
had
two
priorities:
resolve
the
problem
of
circulation
created
by
the
division
of
the
front
and
back
halves
of
the
building
and
reconcile
the
buildings
new
function
as
a
theatre
to
its
architecture.
On
being
asked
whether
he
found
himself
fighting
the
architecture,
Morris
responded
yes,
always.
In
the
architects
brief
he
described
BACs
occupation
of
the
building
as
squatting
in
a
grand
building
that
was
designed
to
house
municipal
offices.
29
28 27 26
of
piracy.
Burrough
held
that
it
is
always
an
uphill
struggle
to
cope
with
a
building
which
isnt
designed
specifically
for
what
you
want
to
do
this
was
an
opportunity
to
actually
make
the
building
which
they
had
inherited
more
fit
for
purpose.
He
recalled
the
challenges
Morris
faced:
The
trouble
was
he
had
very
little
rooms,
very
inflexible.
The
doors
were
in
the
wrong
place,
the
relationship
to
the
dressing
rooms
the
height,
everything
made
them
not
flexible
but
restrictive.
Central
to
the
Levitt
Bernstein
plans
was
a
new
fit
for
purpose
studio
theatre
space
that
frees
the
original
spaces
of
their
adapted
functions.
The
new
studio
complex,
known
as
the
central
studio
was
inserted
into
the
courtyard
and
surrounded
by
a
permeable
social
area
that
encouraged
interaction
between
the
front
and
back
26 27
30
31
Tom Morris, Look Whos Talking , Putney News, 19 January 1996, p.10 th Tom Morris, in an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 28 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 29 Davies, Bethan, associate architect with Levitt Bernstein Architects, project sketch and notes, c.1996, Battersea Arts Centre Archive 30 Tom Morris, notes for BAC Capital Development Project Phase1 Application, Battersea Arts Centre Archive p.2 31 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009
th
14
halves
of
the
building
(fig.21).
The
new
studio
provided
BAC
with
a
high
tech,
purpose
built
space
superceding
the
inflexible
rooms
which
would
no
longer
need
to
function
as
theatres.
They
would
still
be
used
but
they
would
no
longer
have
to
masquerade
as
performance
spaces:
painted
black,
rigged
and
raked.
Burrough
describes
an
attempt
to
remove
the
friction
from
an
otherwise
overburdened
relationship
by
loosening
up
the
spaces.
By
removing
the
demand
on
them,
he
believed
people
would
be
able
to
use
them
more
imaginatively:
you
take
the
pressure
off
that
room
[council
chamber]
by
providing
something
which
is
possibly
more
conventional
but
is
actually
built
fit
for
purpose
and
to
current
standards
somewhere
else
in
the
building.
The
plans
were
an
extremely
practical
response
to
a
complicated
relationship
between
function
and
architecture,
described
in
the
Lottery
Funding
application
as
the
central
clash
between
the
design
of
the
building
as
a
Town
Hall
and
its
developed
use
as
a
theatre.
Morris
had
a
particular
approach
to
producing
theatre
that
influenced
both
his
choice
of
architect
and
the
eventual
design.
The
initial
idea
of
placing
a
garden
at
the
heart
of
the
building
is
connected
to
his
producing
method.
It
was
not
just
a
garden
he
wanted,
it
was
a
shockingly
unexpected
garden
(fig.22).
When
seeing
a
piece
of
work
for
the
first
time,
he
would
encourage
BAC
producers
to
search
for
the
one
thing
in
a
production
which
might
have
a
future.
So
although
a
show
might
be
of
poor
quality,
there
may
be
interesting
lighting,
one
excellent
performer
or
beautiful
music.
Rather
than
seeing
a
piece
of
theatre
as
a
finished
whole,
it
was
made
up
a
separate
elements,
each
of
which
might
form
the
starting
place
for
another,
better
piece.
By
asking
BACs
producers
to
always
look
for
the
next
thing,
he
was
seeking
out
the
theatre
artists
of
the
future.
When
he
began
working
at
BAC
as
a
development
producer,
David
Jubb
recalled
that
The
Shock
of
the
New
was
a
name
that
cropped
up
regularly
as
a
potential
title
for
seasons
or
festivals
at
BAC.
Jubb
believed
that
Morris
was
interested
in
surprise
as
one
of
the
most
vital
and
inspirational
qualities
in
theatre.
When
asked
what
he
enjoyed
most
about
being
artistic
director
Morris
said,
I
love
being
able
to
introduce
people
to
the
things
they
least
expect.
Morris
applied
a
theatrical
taste
for
the
unexpected
to
his
ideas
for
the
building
and
the
shockingly
unexpected
garden
developed
into
a
metal-clad,
cone-shaped
tower
twice
the
height
of
the
original
building
nestled
into
the
courtyard
(fig.23).
These
tendencies
would
also
show
in
his
choice
of
architect.
The
most
significant
theatrical
experience
Levitt
Bernstein
brought
to
the
project
was
their
work
at
the
Manchester
Royal
Exchange,
first
in
1976
and
again
in
1996
after
the
nearby
IRA
bombing.
Michael
Elliot,
the
artistic
director
of
32 33
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 34 Tom Morris, notes for BAC Capital Development Project Phase1 Application, Battersea Arts Centre Archivep,.4 35 th Tom Morris, in an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 36 th Tom Morris, in an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 37 th David Jubb, in and email to the author, Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 38 th In response to the question What do you like about your job? Tom Morris, Look Whos Talking , Putney News, 19 January 1996, p.10
th
15
the
Manchester
Royal
Exchange,
said
Here
there
really
might
be
a
theatre,
because
it
isnt
one.
It
had
none
of
the
old
assumptions,
it
was
just
a
space.
Morris
would
have
been
very
conscious
of
this
legacy
in
his
decision
to
work
with
them.
The
Manchester
Royal
Exchange
is
a
great,
inflexible
old
trading
hall
with
a
pod-like
theatre
space
suspended
under
the
central
dome.
Working
with
Michael
Elliot,
Levitt
Bernstein
designed:
a
building
within
it
which
was
a
bit
like
an
act
of
piracy.
It
was
taking
over
the
space,
which
was
almost
an
unwilling
host
but
it
could
take
it
because
it
was
so
big.
So
there
was
a
tremendous
tension
between
the
new
space
within
this
huge
great
hall
and
the
old
space.
And
that
was
part
of
the
excitement
the
tension.
Three
years
prior
to
building
the
theatre
at
Manchester
Royal
Exchange,
Michael
Elliott
recorded
a
programme
for
the
BBC,
of
which
one
episode
was
entitled
On
Not
Building
For
Posterity.
Standing
on
Waterloo
Bridge,
reflecting
on
his
recent
experience
advising
on
the
National
Theatres
building
committee,
he
questioned
whether
this
was
the
kind
of
theatre
we
should
be
building
and
whether
we
should
be
bequeathing
quite
so
much
concrete
to
the
next
generation
of
theatre
makers:
Isnt
it
time
we
stopped
lumbering
our
grandchildren
with
our
mistakes?
Elliott
suggested
that
In
the
future
shouldnt
we
try
to
retain
a
certain
lightness
and
sense
of
improvisation,
and
sometimes
build
in
materials
that
do
not
require
a
bomb
to
move
them?
In
short,
shouldnt
we
stop
building
for
posterity?
The
Manchester
Royal
Exchange
conversion
sprang
from
this
thought
process.
There
were
obvious
ties
between
the
two
spaces
and
the
vocabulary
reflected
them:
the
new
studio
would
both
solve
Morris
artistic
challenges
and
give
solid
form
to
the
act
of
piracy
BAC
was
already
performing
in
the
old
town
hall.
Vocabulary
can
however
be
deceiving,
and
although
the
words
piracy
and
squatting
give
the
impression
of
impermanence,
neither
the
Manchester
Royal
Exchange
theatre
nor
the
BAC
studio
were
designed
to
be
temporary.
Burrough
said
that
the
theatre
they
built
in
Manchester
looked
as
if
it
could
be
taken
away
at
any
day,
it
was
camping
in
effect.
It
may
have
looked
like
it
was
camping
in
the
space,
but
it
would
have
taken
more
than
a
day
to
remove
and
although
it
was
not
built
of
bricks
and
concrete,
it
was
also
not
designed
to
be
flat
packed.
The
design
for
BAC
went
a
step
further.
It
picked
up
the
idea
of
tension
between
new
and
old
with
a
shocking,
alien
architectural
addition,
but
did
not
pursue
even
the
illusion
of
impermanence.
Burrough
felt
that
by
building
a
39
39
40
41
42
43
44
Elliot, M., On not building for posterity, TABS 31/2 (1973): 41-44, republished by Mulryne, R. and Shewring, M. (eds.), Making space for theatre: British Architecture and theatre since 1958, Stratford-upon-Avon,1995, p.18 40 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 41 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 42 Elliot, M., On not building for posterity, TABS 31/2 (1973): 41-44, republished by Mulryne, R. and Shewring, M. (eds.), Making space for theatre: British Architecture and theatre since 1958, Stratford-upon-Avon,1995, p.17 43 Elliot, M., On not building for posterity, TABS 31/2 (1973): 41-44, republished by Mulryne, R. and Shewring, M. (eds.), Making space for theatre: British Architecture and theatre since 1958, Stratford-upon-Avon,1995, p.17 44 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009
16
permanent
structure
to
accommodate
the
needs
of
the
organisation,
the
use
of
the
original
spaces
could
take
on
the
more
light-footed,
transitory
quality
which
Elliot
had
sought:
We
were
trying
to
pursue
this
idea
of
people
being
able
to
camp
in
spaces
in
the
building,
but
that
depended
on
having
somewhere
in
the
building
that
was
well-equipped
for
more
conventional
things.
This
is
in
effect
a
subversion
of
Elliots
original
idea,
which
was
to
build
a
theatre
that
was
temporary
not
build
a
permanent
theatre
so
that
everywhere
else
could
be
used
as
a
found
space,
which
does
little
to
alter
the
standard
relationship
between
architecture
and
theatre.
Normal
theatre
taking
place
in
a
specifically
designed,
fit-for-purpose,
high-tech
space
and
site
specific
theatre,
workshops
and
rehearsals
taking
place
elsewhere.
The
plans
were
extremely
ambitious,
architecturally
and
ideologically.
One
sketch
notes
that
Morris
key
notes
have
terrifying
aspirations,
but
questions
whether
notions
of
ambush
/
iconoclasm
/
piracy
might
fail
to
embrace
the
more
uncertain
theatre
goers.
The
conical
central
studio
complex
stacked
rehearsal
rooms
and
a
double-height
studio
theatre
on
top
of
each
other,
with
a
curving
external
staircase
rising
from
the
courtyard
(fig.24).
The
new
theatre
would
be
properly
equipped,
[with]
people
facing
the
right
way
in
comfortable
seats
and
it
would
do
things
better
than
the
existing
spaces
(fig.25).
Other
aspects
of
the
design
included
the
glass
roofed
caf
area
in
the
courtyard
around
the
central
studio
(fig.26),
a
perforated
faade
on
Lavender
Hill
giving
onto
an
espresso
bar,
a
new
configuration
of
the
council
chamber
and
a
retractable
rake
in
the
Grand
Hall.
Studios
1
and
2
would
be
overhauled
with
new
technical
equipment,
seating
and
backstage
spaces.
Overall
BAC
would
have
five
functioning
theatre
spaces.
When
speaking
about
the
plans
today,
both
Morris
and
Burrough
insist
on
the
importance
of
the
Lottery
Funding
in
their
development:
1994
Lottery
Act,
so
between
1995
and
about
1998
or
1999
there
was
a
very,
incredibly
small
period
in
history
which
was
the
heyday
of
Arts
Council
Lottery
Funding
when
they
were
able
to
fund
ambitious
projects.
This
was
an
opportunity
that
had
never
occurred
before
and
has
never
occurred
again
you
have
to
think
about
the
whole
thought
process
in
those
terms.
Observing
how
the
plans
grew
in
scope
over
the
course
of
a
year,
it
is
possible
to
imagine
a
young
organisation,
making
significant
and
exciting
work,
having
their
ambitions
fuelled
by
the
Arts
Council
capital
strategy,
encouraging
them
to
apply
for
large
sums
of
money.
Burrough
acknowledged
that
the
ambitions
of
the
schemes
were
sort
of
a
response
to
the
ambitions
of
the
people
providing
49 47 48 46 45
45 46
Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 Davies, Bethan, associate architect with Levitt Bernstein Architects, sketch and notes, c.1996, Battersea Arts Centre archive 47 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 48 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 49 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009
th
17
lottery
money.
The
extent
to
which
that
figure
grew
determined
the
extent
to
which
we
increased
our
ambitions.
However
in
1997
the
plans
for
redevelopment
were
cut
short
by
two
events
which
occurred
almost
simultaneously:
both
BAC
and
the
Lottery
Fund
discovered
they
had
run
out
of
money.
BAC
had
submitted
an
application
for
funding
which
should
have
lead
to
a
12
million
Capital
Grant,
the
sum
they
had
been
encouraged
to
apply
for.
The
Arts
Council
returned
the
application
and
suggested
they
submit
another
for
around
2
million.
The
Arts
Council
had
begun
to
realise
that
the
projects
they
had
previously
committed
to
were
running
over
budget
and
that
many
of
the
organisations
had
failed
to
account
for
revenue
funding
to
get
their
venues
up
and
running
again
once
the
works
were
finished.
The
door
for
new
projects
shut
very
suddenly.
It
was
a
huge
blow
to
a
design
team
who
had
been
told,
as
were
so
many
at
the
time,
that
anything
was
possible.
Along
with
this
came
the
sudden
realisation
that
BACs
deficit
was
far
larger
than
Morris
had
been
made
aware
of,
which
was
shortly
followed
by
the
departure
of
the
Head
of
Finance.
Morris
chose,
in
the
circumstances,
to
let
his
hopes
for
a
Capital
project
go
and
focus
his
energies
on
organisational
development.
BAC
was
taken
onto
the
Arts
Councils
Recovery
Programme,
a
fund
created
to
keep
failing
organisations
afloat.
Morris
restructured
the
senior
management
team,
employed
a
fresh
team
of
producers
and
set
about
closing
the
gap
on
BACs
deficit.
52 51
50
50 51
Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 th Axel Burrough, interview with the author, 8 June 2009 52 th Tom Morris, interview with the author, 4 June 2009
th
18
2.2:
The
beginning
of
scratch
Throughout
his
tenure
as
artistic
director
Morris
maintained
a
focus
on
developing
new
work
and
supporting
new
artists.
Work-in-progress
sharings
were
already
taking
place
in
the
mid-nineties
at
BAC
and
other
venues
across
London
such
as
Oval
House,
the
Lion
and
Unicorn
Pub
Theatre,
the
Drill
Hall
and
ICA
gallery.
But
there
were
few
ongoing
development
opportunities
supporting
artists
to
create
work
over
a
prolonged
period
of
time.
The
Lion
and
Unicorn
Pub
Theatre
was
being
run
by
Central
School
of
Speech
and
Drama,
led
by
the
recent
graduate
David
Jubb.
At
the
Lion
and
Unicron
artists
could
present
work-in-progress
for
three
nights
in
each
two-month
season
and
some
of
that
work
would
go
on
to
have
a
three-week
run.
Jubb
was
consciously
trying
to
create
a
structure
that
would
develop
artists
work
over
time,
through
live
presentations.
The
body
of
small
to
medium-sized
companies,
collectives
and
solo
artists
performing
across
fringe
venues
in
London
at
the
time
were
making
work
that
largely
focused
on
the
live
presence
of
the
theatrical
exchange:
it
was
theatre
that
focussed
on
the
event-hood
and
fleshiness
of
performance,
emphasising
the
visceral
presence
of
the
performer
before
a
live
audience
Despite
the
radicalism
of
this
theatre
turning
on
an
exploration
of
the
unique
situation
that
occurs
during
performance
itself.
The
presence
of
the
performers
body
and
the
subjectivity
witnessed
in
the
here
and
now
by
the
audience-spectator
there
was
still
no
direct
invitation
to
the
audience
to
feedback
or
a
framework
that
engaged
artist
and
audience
in
a
structured
creative
dialogue.
BACs
work-in- progress
sharings
at
that
time
consisted
of
artists
presenting
unfinished
pieces
of
half
an
hour
to
forty
five
minutes
for
three
nights.
These
new
work
nights
would
be
interspersed
throughout
each
season,
but
again
it
lacked
any
follow-up
support
structure
or
feedback
system.
Jubb
then
programmed
the
Lion
and
Unicorn
Night
of
Glee
at
BAC
as
part
of
the
British
Festival
of
Visual
Theatre
in
1999.
This
was
a
night
of
seemingly
endless
cabaret
theatre
during
which
a
dozen
artists
tried
out
new
ideas
in
front
of
an
audience.
This
sparked
a
debate
at
BAC
about
the
value
of
presenting
work-in-progress
in
front
of
a
live
audience.
As
Morris
had
already
been
thinking
about
how
best
to
support
artists
developing
new
work,
BACs
programme
was
ripe
for
a
structured
model.
In
August
1999
Morris
employed
Jubb
as
development
producer
-
a
producer
specifically
tasked
with
seeking
out
and
developing
new
artistic
talent.
That
autumn
a
brainstorming
meeting
was
held
with
BAC
artists
to
discuss
the
possible
format
for
regular
work-in-progress
nights.
The
artists
felt
that
they
needed
a
step
before
the
half
hour,
three
night
run.
That
first
step
would
allow
a
number
of
artists
to
share
an
evening
slot,
each
presenting
just
ten
minutes
of
a
new
idea.
Both
Jubb
and
Morris
recall
the
artist
Kazuko
Hohki
coining
the
name
scratch,
as
an
appropriate
term
for
the
starting
place
for
ideas.
56 55 54 53
53 54
Jones, S., New Theatres for new times, Cambridge History of British Theatre vol.3, Cambridge 2004, p.458 Jones, S., New Theatres for new times, Cambridge History of British Theatre vol.3, Cambridge 2004, p.460 55 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 56 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
19
The
first
official
scratch
night
took
place
in
January
2000
as
part
of
a
season
of
work
called
The
Shape
of
Things
to
Come.
Later
in
2000
Morris
and
Jubb
rationalised
the
scratch
process
into
the
scratch
ladder
of
development,
a
linear
progression
for
work
to
follow
(fig.27).
The
first
rung
on
the
ladder
was
freshly
scratched,
an
evening
of
ten
minute
slots
shared
by
artists,
each
at
the
very
beginning
of
a
new
project.
The
next
step
was
the
work-in-progress:
forty-five
minutes
to
an
hour
run
over
three
nights.
This
went
on
to
a
full-length
show
run
for
a
week
and
finally,
if
the
show
has
done
particularly
well,
a
full
three-week
run.
The
unspoken
understanding
was
that
artists
would
progress
from
a
full
length
show
at
BAC
to
work
at
a
central
London
theatre,
such
as
Lyric
Hammersmith,
and
from
there
to
making
work
at
the
National
Theatre.
This
structure
enabled
a
group
of
less
traditional
companies
to
find
a
place
on
the
mainstream
stage,
such
Thatre
de
Complicit,
DV8
physical
theatre,
Cheek
by
Jowl
and
Kneehigh.
At
each
stage
of
development
the
artist
is
open
to
feedback
from
the
audience
and
their
producer.
The
scratch
process
is
based
on
three
principles:
1. Improvisation:
making
it
up
as
you
go
along.
Artists
have
to
be
able
to
change
their
minds.
The
opportunity
to
make
mistakes
is
crucial
to
the
creative
process.
2. Collaboration:
placing
the
work
of
an
artist
at
the
centre
of
a
network
of
collaborative
relationships
that
support
the
work.
The
artist
being
open
to
feedback
and
responding
to
it
in
their
work
is
vital.
It
keeps
it
alive.
3.
The
principles
of
the
scratch
process
now
define
the
ethos
of
BAC
and
the
flavour
of
the
work
it
produces.
The
model
created
by
Morris,
Jubb
and
the
artists
working
at
BAC
has
been
replicated
across
London
and
beyond.
Jubb
arrived
at
BAC
after
Levitt
Bernsteins
Capital
redevelopment
plans
had
dissolved
and
he
recalls
that
space
was
very
rarely
discussed
in
programming
meetings.
As
during
Paul
Blackmans
time,
work
was
programmed
into
the
three
main
studio
spaces:
the
Main
House,
Studio
1
and
Studio
2.
All
essentially
black
box
spaces.
Jubb
used
Studio
2
for
the
more
experimental
work
he
was
bringing
into
the
building
as
Development
Producer.
Studio
1
housed
the
more
traditional
plays
and
studio
theatre
productions.
The
Main
House
was
used
for
the
larger
shows
that
Morris
programmed,
or
the
more
successful
work
that
had
grown
up
through
the
scratch
ladder
of
development.
A
piece
of
work
that
57
57
58
In London: Scratch Interact at Southwark Playhouse, Lyric Firsts at Lyric Theatre Hammersmith, Rough Cuts at Royal Court, Scratch Performances at National Theatre Theatre and Short Nights by Nabakov Theatre. Beyond London: Scratch Nights at Nightingale Theatre in Brighton, Scratch Nights at Arches in Glasgow, Scratch Nights Theater for the New City in New York and Scratch Nights at Sydney Opera House, Australia. 58 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
20
did
very
well
during
scratch
would
run
for
three
weeks
in
a
studio,
before
transferring
to
the
main
house
for
two
or
three
nights.
During
Morris
time
there
was
a
tension
between
the
conscious
drive
for
experimental
new
theatre
practice
and
the
more
formal
experiments
in
traditional
form
which
felt
as
though
they
were
a
comfortable
part
of
theatre
orthodoxy.
Jubb
recalls
There
was
a
very
clear
hierarchy.
Other
parts
of
the
building
were
used
occasionally,
such
as
the
foyer,
the
attic
or
the
gallery,
but
the
focus
of
the
production
teams
efforts
was
on
servicing
the
three
theatre
spaces
and
ensuring
they
ran
smoothly.
It
is
possible
to
surmise
that
once
Morris
plans
to
convert
the
space
were
aborted,
he
became
less
and
less
interested
in
the
building,
as
ill-matched
newly-weds
might,
having
once
discovered
they
cannot
change
each
other.
His
relationship
with
the
space
was
inextricably
linked
to
his
inability
to
change
it,
as
well
as
its
relationship
with
the
council
which
was
increasingly
strained.
They
still
managed
the
building
and
both
the
funding
and
the
length
of
the
lease
were
ever-diminishing.
Jubb
left
BAC
after
just
over
a
year
as
development
producer,
but
when
Morris
decided
to
move
on
to
become
associate
director
at
the
National
Theatre
in
2004,
Jubb
returned
to
take
over
the
artistic
directorship.
When
Jubb
applied
for
the
job
he
asked
Morris
to
help
him
think
about
whether
he
was
right
for
the
role.
He
remembers
that
one
of
the
pieces
of
advice
Morris
gave
him
was
about
the
building.
He
suggested
that
Jubb
should
consider
the
organisations
relationship
to
the
building
and
should
question
whether
or
not
BAC
should
be
based
in
the
town
hall:
I
thought
the
reason
he
asked
that
question
spoke
volumes
about
his
relationship
with
the
space.
I
think
if
hed
have
stayed
on
at
BAC
he
would
have
looked
for
a
different
home
for
the
organisation.
It
was
not
the
case
throughout
Morris
tenure,
but
in
the
end
Jubb
wrote
I
dont
think
Tom
loved
the
building.
63 62 61 60 59
59 60
David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 61 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 62 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 63 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
th
21
Chapter Three Playgrounding: David Jubb and Haworth Tompkins Architects Jubb returned to BAC in 2004 and it was a year later that the programme and the approach to the space began to differentiate itself from that of Morris. The first visible shift came with Octoberfest, the autumn festival in 2005. The season brochure opened with Jubb standing on the street outside BAC asking passers-by what they thought of when he said the word theatre. Answers ranged from Lots of people sleeping at the same time and Shakespeare, to
theatre?(laugh)theatre?(laugh)
Ive
never
been
mate
(walks
off
laughing).
It
started
to
rain.
At
this
juncture,
Jubb
asked
himself
the
question
Is
theatre
any
good?,
which
became
the
title
of
the
season
(fig.28):
I
stood
in
the
street
and
started
to
think
about
terrible
theatre.
Boring,
deadly
theatre.
Theatre
that
assumes
its
audience
have
a
PhD.
Clever
people
writing
clever
plays
to
be
reviewed
by
more
clever
people
Theatre
that
demands
its
audience
should
appreciate
it,
not
the
other
way
round.
No,
I
thought,
theatre
isnt
any
good.
Its
odious.
After
wondering
why
he
became
the
artistic
director
of
a
theatre,
given
his
views
on
the
art
form,
he
remembered
a
show
he
saw
in
1999
called
YES
YES
YES
by
the
Northern
Irish
theatre
company
Ridiculismus:
This
was
theatre
YES
YES
YES
was
outrageous
it
made
me
think
about
travel,
friendships,
madness,
failure.
YES
YES
YES
made
me
realise
that
theatre
is
two-way.
It
is
as
much
about
us,
the
audience,
as
the
people
making
it.
Where
other
aspects
of
their
taste
and
approach
differed,
Morris
and
Jubb
found
common
ground
in
their
fascination
with
the
two-way
relationship
between
audience
and
artists.
Morris,
currently
writing
a
book
entitled
Unfinished
Business,
is
interested
in
how
theatre
leaves
room
for
the
audiences
imagination
to
journey
towards
the
story,
rather
than
offering
the
complete
picture
that
one
finds
in
the
cinema.
Jubb
trained
his
efforts
towards
supporting
artists
and
companies
who
prioritised
the
live,
collaborative
relationship
between
artist
and
audience.
Octoberfest
in
2005
66 65 64
64 65
David Jubb, Is Theatre Any Good?, BAC Season Brochure, October 2005, BAC Archive, p.1 David Jubb, Is Theatre Any Good?, BAC Season Brochure, October 2005, BAC Archive, p.1 66 What brought us together, as two people passionate about making theatre, apart from a friendship, was the relationship between artist and audience. The brochure of the British Festival of Visual Theatre 2000 shows the face of Mike Shepherd on one side and Benji Reid on the other, close up, looking in to your eyes as you stare back. The potential of that look between artists and audience was what mutually excited us both: to create that festival, and others like it, together, as works of th passion. David Jubb, in and email to the author, Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
22
featured
the
work
of
Ridiculismus
and
a
series
of
scratch
performances,
building
on
the
experimental
work
that
Jubb
had
been
in
charge
of
programming
during
his
time
as
Development
Producer.
The
distinctive
shift
came
in
the
approach
to
the
building.
Included
in
the
Octoberfest
programme
were
two
parties:
Blink,
and
Trashy
Multi-Art
Form
Bingo
Blow-out
Party
(fig.29).
These
were
two
multi-disciplinary
nights
in
which
a
series
of
short
pieces
of
work
were
presented
across
the
building
in
spaces
not
usually
used
for
theatre,
in
the
context
of
a
party.
An
audience
member
bought
one
ticket
to
the
whole
night,
which
allowed
them
to
choose
what
work
they
wanted
to
see
and
in
what
order.
Jubb
became
interested
not
just
in
the
use
of
otherwise
latent
spaces
and
the
rough
and
ready
nature
of
the
work,
but
in
the
audiences
journey
from
one
piece
to
the
next.
This
engendered
a
sense
of
adventure
and
investment
from
the
audience.
The
events
and
performances
that
took
place
during
the
Octoberfest
Is
theatre
any
good?
season
were
the
first
steps
towards
exploring
the
potential
of
the
building
to
house
events
that
engaged
with
multiple
spaces
and
allowed
the
audience
to
make
choices
about
their
own
journey
through
the
space.
Felix
Barrett,
the
artistic
director
of
Punchdrunk,
presented
his
first
piece
of
work
in
the
building
as
part
of
Blink.
The
Yellow
Wallpaper
took
place
in
one
of
the
attic
rooms
and
was
so
popular
that
the
producing
team
decided
to
run
it
for
the
rest
of
the
festival.
It
was
also
at
this
time
that
Jubb
read
through
the
archive
of
past
board
papers
and
came
to
the
conclusion
that
the
building
itself
was
more
than
an
unwilling
architectural
host
for
the
theatre.
He
realised
that
BACs
artists
had
not
only
created
innovative
work
because
of
the
supportive
scratch
process
but
that
they
had
in
many
cases
drawn
inspiration
from
the
fact
that
they
were
working
in
a
space
that
was
not
a
theatre.
BACs
success
was,
in
part,
because
of
the
town
hall
rather
than
despite
the
town
hall.
Where
past
administrations
had
tended
to
consider
BAC
the
organisation
independently
from
the
town
hall,
particularly
without
the
guarantee
of
a
long
lease
on
the
building,
Jubb
decided
to
set
about
reconciling
the
organisation
to
its
architecture
and
the
architecture
to
the
organisation.
In
May
2006
Barrett
and
Punchdrunk
returned
with
The
Quest
of
a
Wave
to
BACs
spring
festival,
BURST.
Inspired
by
the
experiences
of
Blink
and
Trashy
Multi-Art-form
Bingo
Blow
Out
Jubb
began
talking
to
Barrett
about
the
idea
of
creating
a
show
within
an
arts
centre
and
an
arts
centre
that
could
live
inside
a
show,
which
would
mean
opening
up
BAC
to
create
a
building-wide
performance
environment.
Barretts
work
is
intimately
engaged
with
architecture
and
the
audiences
journey.
Given
their
experience
in
site-responsive
work,
Punchdrunk
were
seen
as
the
ideal
collaborators.
The
company
was
founded
in
2000
as
Punchdrunk
theatrical
experiences
with
the
aim
of
creating
theatrical
environments
in
which
the
audience
are
free
to
choose
what
they
watch
and
where
they
67 68
67
68
69
David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 th David Jubb, in and email to the author, Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 69 It was around Burst [May] 2006 that we started having conversations about a show inside an arts centre and an arts centre living inside a show and what that might look like. [93]
th
23
go,
fusing
performance,
music
and
installation
art
into
an
immersive
experience.
A
team
of
designers
take
over
a
space
and,
employing
a
filmic
level
of
detail,
transform
it
into
a
world
that
the
audience
can
explore,
encouraging
them
to
rediscover
the
excitement
and
childlike
anticipation
of
exploring
the
unknown.
Punchdrunk
had
previously
created
Prosperos
island
in
a
distillery
in
Deptford,
a
Hitchcock
version
of
Macbeth
in
an
old
Victorian
school,
Romeo
and
Juliet
in
Offley
Works,
a
disused
factory
in
London
and
Faust,
in
collaboration
with
the
National
Theatre,
in
a
disused
archive
building
in
Wapping.
Jubb
and
Barrett
set
out
the
parameters
of
a
building-wide
show
at
Battersea
Arts
Centre
and
in
June
2006
the
resulting
ideas
of
opening
up
unexploited
areas
of
the
building
for
artist
use
were
presented
to
BACs
board.
Jubb
had
also
begun
to
think
about
how
a
building-wide
production
might
relate
to
his
desire
to
reconcile
BAC
to
its
architecture
and
deal
with
some
of
the
immediate
challenges
of
the
building.
At
this
time
the
term
used
to
describe
the
concept
was
a
theatrical
village:
A
single
theatre
production
will
occupy
the
entire
BAC
village
at
one
timeeach
production
will
employ
an
overall
conceptual
framework
or
story
which
will
encompass
the
village
As
part
of
these
productions
we
will
create
a
long-term
vision
for
the
future
of
this
building.
We
want
an
architect
to
become
associated
with
the
productions.
We
will
develop
our
vision
for
the
building
in
collaboration
with
this
architect
and
our
artists
and
audiences.
In
2010
as
the
final
production
closes
we
will
deliver
a
capital
project
that
will
skilfully
and
modestly
redevelop
our
environment,
judiciously
investing
in
the
discoveries
of
the
village
projects
In
this
way
BAC
will
act
as
a
pioneer
for
how
arts
buildings
are
thought
about
in
the
future.
Nick
Starr,
Chief
Executive
of
the
National
Theatre,
was
then
Chair
of
BACs
board.
He
stayed
behind
after
the
board
meeting
and
suggested
a
meeting
with
Steve
Tompkins.
Starr
had
worked
with
Tompkins
on
the
temporary
Gainsborough
Studios
for
the
Almeida
Theatre
and
the
National
Theatre
Studio.
Tompkins
described
their
relationship
as
very
light
footed,
very
trusting,
straightforward,
very
informal,
cutting
through
a
lot
of
red
tape,
cutting
through
a
lot
of
accepted
procedure
to
get
things
done.
Mainly
because
they
were
such
quick
projects
they
werent
like
architecture
projects,
they
were
much
more
like
set
builds,
right
from
the
outset
youre
working
within
a
different
set
of
expectations,
different
timescales.
Starr
pursued
an
instinct
that
Tompkins
would
be
inspired
by
the
process
Jubb
was
proposing
and
that
it
would
be
a
personality
match
as
much
as
a
good
fit
of
idea
and
ambition.
Haworth
Tompkins
is
a
practice
well
versed
in
delivering
buildings
for
the
arts.
Tompkins
first
theatre
work
was
the
restoration
of
the
Royal
Court
in
Sloane
Square
in
1999,
shortly
followed
by
his
work
70 71
70
71
72
73
All Punchdrunk quotes taken from http://www.punchdrunk.org.uk/about.htm, accessed on 28.05.2009 BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, BAC Archive 72 th Steve Tompkins, interviewed at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 2009 73 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
24
with
Nick
Starr
for
the
Almeida
at
the
Gainsborough
Studios.
In
the
same
year
he
rebuilt
the
Regents
Park
Theatre.
Tompkins
built
The
Egg
and
The
Ustinov,
a
space
for
young
people
and
a
studio
theatre
for
the
Theatre
Royal
in
Bath.
In
2006
he
built
the
North
Wall,
a
theatre
for
a
school
in
Oxford
and
rebuilt
the
Young
Vic
Theatre,
followed
by
a
move
a
few
hundred
yards
down
The
Cut
to
deliver
the
National
Theatre
Studio.
Most
recently
Haworth
Tompkins
have
completed
a
creative
campus
for
Aldeburgh
Music
and,
alongside
Battersea
Arts
Centre,
the
practice
are
working
on
the
Liverpool
Everyman,
Liverpool
Playhouse
and
the
National
Theatre
redevelopment
plans.
The
practice
also
work
on
social
housing,
galleries,
libraries
and
urban
regeneration
schemes
but
Tompkins
is
perhaps
the
closest
thing
this
generation
of
architects
gets
to
a
modern
Matcham.
The
practices
work
is
difficult
to
pin
down
in
terms
of
style,
perhaps
because
a
large
body
of
their
work
comprises
of
rebuilding,
refurbishing,
redeveloping
or
temporary
work.
They
say
that
they
are
primarily
influenced
by
the
specific
chemistry
of
individual
places
and
cultural
situations
and
that
what
each
building
shares
in
common
is
the
approach,
rather
than
a
signature
style.
This
emphasis
on
process
in
their
practice
would
favour
the
relationship
with
BAC.
Jubb
recalls
a
meeting
held
in
the
courtyard
of
BAC
in
the
summer
of
2006,
not
long
after
their
initial
introduction.
He
described
to
Tompkins
the
idea
of
a
show
living
inside
an
arts
centre
and
a
capital
project
that
invests
in
the
discoveries
of
the
show.
At
one
point
he
realised
he
was
making
it
sound
more
developed
as
an
idea,
and
more
certain,
than
it
actually
was.
He
stopped
to
confess
that
he
was
actually
making
this
up
as
he
went
along
and
Tompkins
responded
ah,
a
man
after
my
own
heart.
Jubb
felt
Tompkins
would
be
the
right
architect
for
BAC
as
He
was
someone
I
didnt
have
to
pretend
with;
its
a
ridiculously
rare
thing
for
brilliant
people
like
Steve
to
show
vulnerability,
to
show
that
theyre
out
on
a
limb,
that
theyre
sometimes
not
sure
what
the
next
move
is.
Jubb
felt
collaboration
was
possible
with
someone
if
they
were
prepared
to
admit
they
did
not
know
how
or
where
it
might
end
a
collaboration
that
involved
risk.
After
these
initial
conversations
about
the
building,
Jubb
and
Tompkins
decided
to
write
letters
to
each
other,
to
see
if
their
thoughts
were
consistent.
It
is
from
these
letters
that
an
early
definition
of
Playgrounding
emerged.
The
term
Playgrounding
comes
from
the
idea
of
a
childrens
playground:
children
use
a
playground
not
just
for
what
it
is,
but
as
an
opening
into
many
different
worlds.
A
playground
has
both
structured
elements
and
undefined
areas
for
children
to
run
around
in,
a
balance
between
equipment
and
free
space.
The
idea
of
Playgrounding
is
simply
about
artists,
staff
and
audiences
doing
what
we
all
used
to
do
in
our
playgrounds,
creating
flexible
worlds
in
which
anything
could
happen.
The
significance
of
BAC
as
a
found
space
in
this
concept
is
important,
as
74 75
74
75
76
77
78
http://www.haworthtompkins.com th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 76 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 77 See appendix 4 for copies of the letters 78 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
25
Jubb
points
out
that
often
the
very
best
games
are
those
played
in
the
areas
of
the
playground
that
have
not
been
especially
equipped
or
designed
the
parts
of
the
playground
where
we
could
create
our
own
worlds.
The
letters
written
by
Tompkins
and
Jubb
were
presented
to
the
BAC
board
in
October
2006
and
funds
for
further
conversations
with
Haworth
Tompkins
to
explore
Playgrounding
were
approved.
The
conversation
with
Tompkins
about
opening
up
the
building
and
improving
the
facilities
for
artist
use
was
running
parallel
to
discussions
with
Barrett
about
a
building-wide
production.
It
had
been
decided
that
the
Punchdrunk
production
would
create
a
building-wide
performance
piece
based
on
the
stories
of
Edgar
Allen
Poe,
using
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
as
the
overall
framing
device.
There
was
a
natural
confluence
between
this
project
and
the
wider
plans
for
developing
the
building,
so
Jubb
introduced
Barrett
and
Tompkins
in
Autumn
2006.
When
Jubb
wrote
to
Barrett
outlining
the
parameters
of
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death,
he
spoke
about
Tompkins
potential
collaboration
on
the
project:
As
you
know
BAC
is
hoping
Steve
[Tompkins]
will
be
involved
in
the
redevelopment
of
BACs
building
over
the
next
three
years
We
believe
that
discoveries
we
make
during
the
building-wide
project
will
feed
directly
into
plans
for
a
modest
redevelopment
in
2011.
Steve
is
even
up
for
helping
us
try
some
temporary
ideas
out
via
each
building
wide
project,
so
one
or
two
ideas
could
figure
as
part
of
project
Poe.
Barrett
agreed
to
a
collaboration
and
he,
Jubb
and
Tompkins
met
in
the
autumn
to
walk
around
the
building
and
discuss
the
potential
overlap.
As
the
production
was
beginning
to
take
shape
however,
BAC
encountered
an
unforeseen
setback
that
would
profoundly
affect
their
relationship
with
the
building
and
the
future
of
the
capital
plans
with
Haworth
Tompkins.
On
the
10th
of
January
2007
BAC
received
a
letter
from
Wandsworth
Borough
Council
[WBC]
announcing
that,
as
part
of
a
5
million
cost
cutting
exercise
across
the
borough,
they
would
be
cutting
BACs
funding
from
100,000
to
zero
and
ending
BACs
subsidised
rent
of
the
building.
Rent
charges
would
be
put
in
place
for
the
town
hall
totalling
circa
270,000
per
year,
with
a
net
impact
of
370,000
on
BACs
budget,
coming
into
force
as
of
April
2007.
Since
the
late
1990s
BAC
had
been
on
an
increasingly
short
tenancy
agreement
with
the
council.
By
2007
it
was
a
six
month
lease.
The
work
of
the
arts
centre
was
seen
to
have
outgrown
its
local
origins
as
a
community
arts
centre
and
80 79
79 80
David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in an email to Felix Barrett (felix@punchdrunk.org.uk) Rock on, 24 October 2006
th
26
WBC
argued
that
it
was
a
national
organisation
and
should
therefore
be
nationally
funded
it
should
not
fall
to
them
to
subsidise
an
organisation
providing
services
to
people
across
London.
Had
the
councils
cuts
been
implemented,
it
would
have
forced
BAC
to
close
its
doors.
In
forming
a
plan
of
action,
Jubb
recalled
Morriss
parting
thoughts
about
whether
BAC
should
be
based
in
the
town
hall
or
not.
The
withdrawal
of
the
councils
support
could
have
been
the
right
moment
to
start
looking
for
a
new
home
for
the
organisation.
Instead,
the
challenge
served
to
clarify
in
Jubbs
mind
the
importance
and
uniqueness
of
the
building
and
its
history.
Not
only
was
it
a
town
hall
rather
than
a
theatre,
but
it
had
also
developed
a
twenty-five-year
artistic
heritage
of
companies
who
had
created
and
performed
their
earliest
work
in
the
studios.
The
idea
of
leaving
the
building
solidified
the
lessons
learnt
through
the
Octoberfest
programme
in
2005
and
the
conversations
with
Barrett
and
Tompkins
in
2006:
the
town
hall
space
was
one
of
the
key
reasons
for
the
organisations
artistic
success
in
the
last
twenty
five
years.
The
loss
incurred
by
a
move
to
another
space
was
unquantifiable.
A
campaign
was
formed
to
save
BAC:
the
third
in
its
history.
Throughout
the
campaign
the
focus
in
the
wider
theatrical
community
was
on
BACs
contribution
to
British
theatre
as
an
incubator
for
the
next
generation
of
artists.
Nicholas
Hytner,
artistic
director
of
the
National
Theatre,
put
the
case
for
BAC
succinctly
by
stating
that
its
closure
would
be
a
crushing
blowBAC
has
in
recent
years
provided
a
whole
generation
of
theatre
makers
without
whom
more
established
venues
like
the
National
would
quickly
atrophy.
The
theatre
community,
predictably,
poured
wrath
on
Wandsworth
Borough
Council.
Tom
Morris
allowed
years
of
frustration
with
the
council
to
surface
in
an
article
in
The
Observer:
Wandsworth
Borough
Council
has
s**t
on
BAC
again
Wandsworth
councillors
are
Philistine
backwoodsmen
who
are
prepared
to
sacrifice
a
cultural
pearl
on
their
own
doorstep
for
the
sake
of
having
the
lowest
council
tax
in
the
country.
Despite
Wandsworths
valid
argument
that
because
BAC
had
become
a
national
institution,
attracting
audiences
from
across
London
and
beyond,
it
was
no
longer
appropriate
for
it
to
receive
local
authority
funding,
they
were
lambasted
in
the
national
press
for
going
back
to
the
old
Tory
basics
of
arts
cuts.
In
general
terms
the
press
and
theatre
community
blamed
philistinism
and
political
gamesmanship
for
Wandsworths
cutting
spree.
The
council
relayed
the
blame
onto
a
shortfall
in
their
settlement
from
the
Labour
government,
forcing
them
to
make
difficult
choices
about
borough
services.
This
was
seen
as
a
case
of
dont
blame
us,
blame
Gordon
Brown.
The
story
put
a
dent
in
the
artistic
communitys
belief
in
the
Cameron-era
Conservatism.
The
wide
attention
given
to
BACs
situation
forced
the
council
to
delay
their
initial
cuts,
but
it
did
little
to
foster
a
positive
relationship
between
BAC
and
WBC.
WBC
offered
to
reinstate
85,000
of
BACs
100,000
annual
grant,
but
made
no
moves
to
rescind
the
rent
81
81
82
83
84
85
86
In a twist of irony, three months earlier WBC had awarded BAC Best Community Contribution at the Wandsworth Council Business Awards. 82 See appendix 3 for detailed timeline 83 Hytner, N., Backing BAC, Time Out London, January 31 February 6 2007, p.144 84 Morris, T., The spirit of Tebbit walks the stage in Battersea, The Observer Review, Arts Column, 21.01.2007 85 Blacken, T., Back to the old Tory basics of arts cuts, The Independent, 24.1.2007, p.30 86 Cavendish, D., First person singular: Why should the Tories bother with the arts?, The Daily Telegraph, 17.02.2007, p.12
27
and
running
cost
bill
of
270,000.
It
was
Nick
Starr
who
brought
BAC
and
WBC
to
a
negotiating
point
and
made
WBC
realise
that
without
a
subsidised
rent
agreement,
the
old
town
hall
would
close.
Whilst
the
theatre
community
was
fretting
over
the
closure
of
a
cultural
powerhouse,
WBC
were
realising
that
they
would
once
again
have
an
empty
building
on
their
hands
towards
which,
as
a
listed
asset,
they
would
have
a
duty
of
care.
It
was
never
the
WBCs
intention
for
BAC
to
close
it
was
simply
a
poorly
timed
suggestion
that
they
find
their
funding
elsewhere.
The
line
between
what
constitutes
a
local
organisation,
serving
the
needs
of
local
people
and
what
is
a
national
institution
is
a
fine
one
and
not
to
be
defined
here.
WBC
prioritised
other
services
and
assumed
that
arts
funding
should
come
from
a
centrally
allocated
source,
however
under
very
public
scrutiny
they
found
it
necessary
renegotiate.
BAC
proposed
to
take
the
venue
into
a
Building
Preservation
Trust
which
would
hold
a
long
lease
on
the
centre
and
take
on
liability
for
the
site.
This
was
similar
to
the
action
taken
in
1980,
when
the
council-run
arts
centre
briefly
closed
until
it
was
taken
into
an
independent
trust.
WBC
agreed
to
a
125-year
lease
on
the
building,
with
the
first
20
years
rent-free.
In
exchange
BAC
took
responsibility
for
the
buildings
upkeep
and
undertook
to
carry
out
repair
work
totalling
2.5
million
within
the
first
decade.
Council
leader
Edward
Lister
stated
This
will
be
an
excellent
outcome
for
the
borough,
the
building
will
be
looked
after,
the
council
tax-payer
will
be
protected
and
the
venue
will
have
the
chance
to
flourish.
The
125-year
lease
also
had
a
positive
repercussion
on
the
redevelopment
plans.
Although
BAC
shouldered
250,000
of
repairs
per
year
for
the
next
ten
years,
on
top
of
regular
upkeep
and
organisational
costs,
the
security
of
the
lease
significantly
increased
the
potential
for
raising
the
funds
for
comprehensive
redevelopment.
The
Arts
Councils
requirement
of
a
minimum
20-year
lease
to
release
Capital
funding,
mirrored
by
other
major
funding
bodies,
could
be
met
for
the
first
time.
Apart
from
the
practical
implications
of
the
lease,
it
also
fundamentally
altered
BACs
relationship
to
the
building.
Suddenly,
for
the
first
time
since
it
opened
in
1974,
the
organisation
owned
the
building.
When
something
went
wrong
with
the
building,
it
was
no
longer
a
case
of
phoning
the
landlord.
BAC
had
responsibility
for
its
care
and
control
over
its
future.
Conservation
bodies
aside,
the
future
of
the
town
hall
was,
for
the
first
time,
in
BACs
hands.
During
the
campaign
to
save
the
building,
BAC
was
also
thrust
into
the
national
media
at
an
unprecedented
level,
which
all
three
parties
exploited
as
free
advertising
for
the
Punchdrunk
project.
This
meant
that
they
balanced
the
message
of
the
potential
loss
of
the
building
with
a
positive
one
about
the
future
of
the
organisation,
underlining
in
particular
BACs
role
as
a
development
organisation
pushing
the
boundaries
of
the
sector.
Because
the
focus
of
the
debate
was
on
the
building
itself,
towards
the
end
of
the
Wandsworth
crisis,
many
of
the
announcements
about
the
125-year
lease
with
WBC
were
accompanied
by
news
of
the
collaboration
with
Punchdrunk
and
87
87
Lister, E., Battersea Arts Centres future safe with 125-year lease deal, Wandsworth Borough News, 24.10.2007, p.3
28
Haworth
Tompkins
/ .
This
meant
that
the
theatre
sector
was
made
aware
of
the
architectural
collaboration
underlying
the
Punchdrunk
project
in
way
that
would
otherwise
have
been
difficult
to
publicize.
When
speaking
about
the
Wandsworth
crisis,
Jubb
reflected
on
how
positive
it
was
for
the
Punchdrunk
project:
BACs
board
allowed
the
production
costs
of
the
show
to
escalate
from
a
predicted
200,000
to
460,000
because
it
was
do
or
die.
The
crisis
raised
the
artistic
and
financial
ambitions
of
the
project.
90
88 89
88
a deal which will see Wandsworth giving BAC annual funding of 85,000 for the next two years and a transference of the Grade II* listed building to an independent theatre preservation trust... Not only that, but the brilliant Punchdrunk is following up the success of Faust with a new piece for BAC the Masque of the Red Death. Lyn Gardner, Guardian Blog, March 2007 89 BACs scheme involves a partnership between Royal Court architect Steve Tompkins and Punchdrunk theatre company to open up the building for mobile performances. The first will be a co-production of the Masque of the Red Death in the autumn and a re-imagining of the spaces in the old town hall. BAC saved by lease plan, Arts Industry, 5.4.2007, p.4 90 rd David Jubb, in an interview with the author, 23 February 2009
29
3.1: Playgrounding and scratch in The Masque of the Red Death The Masque of the Red Death was the first practical investigation of Playgrounding. Over the seven months of the project Playgrounding developed the three key process principles of scratch into an approach to the building: improvisation, collaboration and taking time. In the course of transposing the principles of scratch into an architectural investigation, two organisation specific values emerged: taking inspiration from things that dont belong (making theatre in a town hall) and creating a building that needs its inhabitants. The process principles are broad attempts at defining an alternative to an orthodox capital project. The values relate more specifically to BACs organisational and architectural makeup. How these ideas migrated out of the scratch process and into Playgrounding will be looked at in the context of The Masque of the Red Death. Once the basic principles of Playgrounding were established BAC began to look for comparative examples against which to test their ideas. A subsidiary case study of Lina Bo Bardis Teatro Oficina will be introduced in which some of these ideas are explored. Finally the process Playgrounding proposes will be examined in more detail in relation to the established method of design and delivery of capital arts projects.
30
Improvisation Most artists who benefit from the structure of scratch at BAC make their work through a process of improvisation or devising. The scratch process provides a support structure for a method of making work that can otherwise lack a clear development process. Jubb described this method of making theatre in his letter to Tompkins as making it up as we go along. Punchdrunk are a good example of the scratch in practice. The Masque of the Red Death was their fourth show at BAC. The first show, The Yellow Wallpaper, was a ten minute piece in the attic. They were then invited back to make another short piece, The Quest of a Wave, as part of BACs main annual festival. The third show, Lord Bulingdons Last Cigar, was a young peoples theatre piece, made with participants from BACs youth theatre programme. Improvisation comes in many different forms, however the principle is that material is generated from an initial inspiration or idea, through a series of exercises or games often repeated many times over in search of a storyline or character. As Punchdrunks work is largely created in response to a place and the theatrical possibilities it offers, the process begins when Barrett enters a space and gets a sense of the atmosphere, imagining what kind of theatrical world is latent in the space. Choosing to create the world of Edgar Allen Poe in BAC was Barretts instinctual reaction to that building. Each previous piece was a scratch of the visual and story-telling themes that emerged in their fullest form in The Masque of the Red Death. After his initial response to the building Barrett gathers a company of actors, who preferably have never seen the space before, and he goes through a series of exercises with them. He looks for what the building does to you when you walk through it where does it lead you? Where does it discourage you from entering? Where is it warm or cold, light or dark? What features can the performers use? Through this he builds up a picture of how a show might evolve across the building over the course of an evening. He creates a framework which sets out which stories, or chapters of a story, will happen in which spaces. At BAC he decided to use the entire East wing on the first floor to create the House of Usher because he felt the large rooms with high ceilings had the feeling of a decaying estate (fig.30). Whilst exploring the first floor of the West wing he lifted up some of the wooden parquet flooring and saw the concrete underneath. He decided to turn the whole wing into the backstreets of Paris, with an open courtyard leading to a wine cellar, a piano tuner, a perfumery and an opium den (fig 31). When he knows which parts of the story will be told in which rooms, he designs the show. Barrett works with a small army of designers, painters and prop-makers to create the world of the show in minute, filmic detail. The basic rhythm and structure of the show are profoundly affected by the architecture what the building has to offer, the theatre engages with and responds to. The performers spend time in the space developing their scenes in relation to what it offers them (figs.32-35). For The Masque of the Red Death they created a journey from a town full of secrecy, confusion and death in
31
the
front
half
of
the
building
(fig.36)
to
Prince
Prosperos
palace,
full
of
revelry
and
grandeur
in
the
back,
from
division,
isolation
and
disorientation
in
the
warren
of
municipal
offices
to
unity
and
congregation
in
the
Grand
Hall
(fig.37).
Once
Barrett
has
created
the
environments
he
envisioned,
he
then
introduces
the
actors
into
them.
The
actors
are
given
the
setting
and
the
story
as
inspiration,
such
as:
you
are
the
narrator
in
The
Fall
of
the
House
of
Usher,
this
is
the
reception
room
of
the
House
of
Usher,
you
have
just
arrived
at
the
house.
It
is
then
up
to
the
performers
to
develop
a
way
of
telling
the
story.
Barrett,
as
auteur,
circulates
the
set
visiting
each
scene
in
development
and
offering
direction,
watching
what
the
performers
have
devised
and
making
suggestions.
Throughout
the
rehearsal
process
and
into
the
early
weeks
of
the
show
the
ideas
will
continue
to
change
and
evolve.
Maxine
Doyle,
Barretts
co- director,
says
the
cast
are
responsible
for
creating
a
lot
of
their
own
stories
and
ideas,
so
they
have
a
real
ownership
of
the
piece.
Every
night
Im
surprised
by
things
I
havent
seen
before.
Tompkins
defined
Jubbs
approach
as
an
exploration
of
improvised,
sit-specific
and
experimental
work
in
the
building
with
a
series
of
theatre
artists
and
proposed
a
parallel
investigation
into
the
buildings
architectural
potential.
He
suggested
that
to
combine
a
theatrical
and
architectural
investigation
into
the
space,
based
on
improvisation,
might
be
more
suited
to
BAC
than
a
conventional
feasibility
study
by
independent
design
consultants.
What
would
an
architectural
investigation
based
on
improvisation
look
like?
Jubb
wanted
to
mirror
the
playfulness,
messiness
and
search
for
the
unknown
found
in
improvisation
in
his
approach
to
the
building.
He
wanted
to
create
an
environment
in
which
it
would
be
possible
to
experiment
and
push
boundaries.
In
order
to
do
that
there
had
to
be
room
for
mistakes
and
time
for
revisions.
Making
mistakes
is
a
vital
part
of
the
creative
process.
During
the
making
process,
there
is
no
right
or
wrong
answer,
there
are
just
proposals.
So
a
performer
will
try
a
scene
many
different
ways
before
settling
on
a
solution.
And
the
solution
in
improvised
work
rarely
remains
fixed.
Even
once
a
production
has
been
scripted
it
will
change
in
response
to
a
new
space,
audience
reactions
or
changes
in
the
cast.
In
the
first
two
preview
weeks
of
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
the
finale
of
the
show
changed
three
times.
The
potential
for
change
and
development
is
inherent
in
the
improvisation
process.
Jubb
described
in
his
letter
the
desire
to
find
an
architectural
process
which
could
mirror
this,
a
process
[which]
takes
account
of
instinct
and
story,
accidental
discovery
and
a
love
of
play,
in
another
word,
theatre.
Playgrounding
would
propose
theatrical
conventions
such
as
improvisation
and
the
right
to
make
mistakes
as
positive
forms
of
architectural
investigation.
It
would
also
question
the
level
of
finish
required
in
a
capital
project.
91 92
91
92
93
Doyle, M., Showpeople, The Stage, 18.10.2007, p.7 Steve Tompkins S., in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive 93 Steve Tompkins S., in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive
32
Finally, improvisation relies on collaboration. In order to find the right answers Barrett first needed the space, then the space and the performers and finally the space, performers and the audience. The show did not stop changing until all three relationships had been established.
33
Collaboration
Collaboration
Iies
at
the
heart
of
scratch:
collaboration
between
the
artist
and
the
producer
for
feedback
and
support,
and
between
artists
and
audience
for
feedback
during
the
making
period
and
a
live
relationship
during
the
performance.
Playgrounding
proposed
to
extend
that
collaboration
to
the
architectural
process:
a
collaboration
between
theatre
artists,
architecture,
architect
and
audience.
Tompkins
suggested
in
his
letter
that
the
design
should
take
inspiration
from
the
more
ephemeral
architecture
of
the
stage
set.
The
close
relationship
between
the
development
of
designs
for
the
architecture
and
for
the
theatre
would
allow
the
work
of
artists
to
reposition
the
space
and
would
be
a
more
achievable
and
affordable
way
of
exploring
the
buildings
potential.
Finding
the
balance
of
power
in
a
collaboration
is
key,
and
BAC
wanted
to
redress
the
balance
between
the
architect
as
the
active
expert
and
the
client
(in
this
case
artists)
as
the
passive
amateur.
The
Playgrounding
process
would
be
formed
out
of
a
collaboration
between
the
imagination
of
theatre
makers
and
the
expertise
of
the
architect.
Practically
this
collaboration
between
the
theatrical
and
architectural
processes
would
allow
ideas
to
be
tested
through
the
ephemera
of
theatre
before
being
committed
to
in
the
permanence
of
architecture,
a
rare
luxury
that
is
seldom
achievable
in
more
orthodox
developments.
98 97 96 95 94
When
asked
to
describe
the
essence
of
Playgrounding,
Jubb
often
refers
to
the
day
when
he,
Barrett
and
Tompkins
first
walked
around
the
building
together
to
discuss
the
project.
Barrett
was
expounding
on
Edgar
Allen
Poes
work
and
his
use
of
fire
as
a
significant
symbol.
Tompkins
responded
that
BAC
had
a
number
of
boarded
up
fire
places
and
suggested
opening
one
of
them
up
to
be
used
in
the
show.
Jubb
recalls
how
Felixs
excitement
for
the
potential
magic
of
this
in
the
show
was
matched
by
my
excitement
of
the
legacy
of
that
fireplace
in
the
building.
I
think
it
was
a
moment
when
theory
fell
easily
in
to
practice
and
I
realised
the
idea
had
legs.
(fig.38).
Tompkins
also
recalled
that
conversation
and
the
experience
of
seeing
the
building
through
the
magpie
eyes
100 99
of
Barrett.
Entering
the
ground
floor
west
wing
corridor,
which
diverts
around
a
series
of
101
partitions, the General Manager remarked All this is a mess all these offices were constructed people get partition happy. The natural inclination might be to clear out cheap partition walls but
Barrett responded The smaller spaces are actually quite good this is where it gets labyrinthine
94
Steve
Tompkins,
in
a
letter
to
David
Jubb,
September
2006,
Included
in
BAC
Board
Papers
2.10.2006,
Battersea
Arts
Centre
archive
Steve
Tompkins,
in
a
letter
to
David
Jubb,
September
2006,
Included
in
BAC
Board
Papers
2.10.2006,
Battersea
Arts
Centre
archive
96
David
Jubb,
in
a
letter
to
Steve
Tompkins,
26.9.2006,
Included
in
BAC
Board
Papers
2.10.2006,
Battersea
Arts
Centre
archive
97
Tompkins,
S.,
Fuzzy
Logic
Preliminary
Report,
Haworth
Tompkins
Architects,
July
2007.
p.11
98
For
full
transcript
of
conversation
see
appendix
5
99 th
David
Jubb
(davidj@bac.org.uk),
in
and
email
to
the
author
(amg52@cam.ac.uk),
Questions
for
David
Jubb,
July
12
2009
100
Steve
Tompkins,
Fuzzy
Logic,
Preliminary
Report,
Haworth
Tompkins
Architects,
July
2007,
p.9
101
Anna
Martin,
Recorded
conversation,
23.11.2006,
Battersea
Arts
Centre
archive,
p.6
95
34
here.
102
For the show, the twists of the corridor were exaggerated into a maze set inside a doll-
makers
workshop.
The
artist
is
allowed
to
reposition
and
define
the
space
and
the
architect
works
alongside
them
with
the
tools
to
realise
the
full
potential
of
the
building.
Tompkins
said
We
have
tried
to
imagine
an
architectural
proposal
not
as
a
stand
alone,
all
encompassing
design
that
artists
would
then
attempt
to
inhabit,
but
as
a
seamless,
ongoing
dialogue
with
the
building
that
originates
in
the
creative
perception
of
the
artists
themselves.
Our
aim
has
been
to
generate
a
new/old
composite
architectural
space
backwards
from
a
collectively
envisaged
performance
in
that
space,
to
look
at
the
architectural
design
process
through
the
wrong
end
of
the
telescope
as
it
were.
The
collectively
envisaged
performance
offers
a
complete
but
temporary
transformation
of
the
building,
and
when
the
implications
of
that
transformation
are
understood,
parts
of
the
project
are
selectively
retained.
104 103
This is, as Tompkins pointed out, a backwards process, as usually the architect
will
define
the
performance
territory
which
the
artist
will
then
respond
to
(through
affirmation
or
denial)
in
their
work.
In
the
preliminary
report
on
the
building
Tompkins
pinpointed
the
present
lack
of
building-wide
technical
infrastructure
and
access
infrastructure
as
one
of
the
main
hindrances
to
creating
a
seamless
found
space
environment
for
site-specific
work.
105
technical
team,
working
with
Punchdrunks
designers,
temporarily
upgraded
the
obsolete
technical
infrastructure
throughout
the
building
so
that
spaces
could
support
theatrical
lighting
and
sound
equipment.
This
gave
Haworth
Tompkins
the
opportunity
to
test
various
elements
of
the
technical
infrastructure
in
the
early
design
phases
of
the
capital
project,
a
rare
luxury
that
is
seldom
achievable
in
more
orthodox
developments.
There
was
one
further
noticeable
affect
in
adopting
a
collaborative
approach
to
the
building.
In
a
collaboration,
each
person
is
valued
for
their
individual
creative
input.
In
order
to
carry
out
some
of
the
work
necessary
to
make
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death,
permission
had
to
be
sought
from
English
Heritage
and
the
Wandsworth
Borough
Councils
conservation
department.
Working
with
a
listed
building
to
a
theatre
deadline
(never
early
enough)
was
challenging.
However
Haworth
Tompkins
and
BAC
engaged
the
conservation
officers
in
thinking
about
how
Playgroundings
improvisational
and
collaborative
approach
would
relate
to
conservation.
As
the
alterations
for
The
Masque
of
the
102 103
106
Felix Barrett, Recorded conversation, 23.11.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive,, p.6 Steve Tompkins, BACs Playground Projects: Inventing the Future of Theatre, 2007, Battersea Arts Centre archive,, p.3 104 Steve Tompkins, in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive 105 Steve Tompkins, in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive 106 Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007. p.11
35
Red Death were mostly temporary the project served to build a relationship with the conservation officers based on trust, experimentation and mutual love of the building. The results of this relationship in terms of BACs conservation strategy will be discussed in greater detail below. Secondly, to create a show in which an audience of two hundred and fifty could wander at will in semi-darkness around an old building required a creative approach to health and safety. Rather than approaching the health and safety and fire officers as law-keepers standing in the way of what they wanted to achieve, they engaged them as experts who could help the creative team find solutions to even the most challenging situations. By asking those people to think creatively about the building, they elicited imaginative responses. One reviewer went so far as to congratulate the health and safety officer working on the show. It is rare for a non-creative member of a team to get mentioned in a review, but it is unheard of for a health and safety officer. The reviewer was impressed by how risky and seemingly dangerous the production felt, which was only achieved because the health and safety of the show had become an art form in and of itself.
36
Taking
Time
Time
is
one
of
the
essential
differences
between
theatre
and
architecture
processes.
It
has
already
been
touched
on
both
in
improvisation
and
collaboration.
Theatre
moves
very
quickly,
making
it
difficult
for
the
architect
to
pin
down
the
organisations
needs
at
any
given
moment.
Conversely,
for
people
working
in
theatre
it
can
feel
like
architecture
is
a
slow-moving
beast
which
takes
months
to
respond
to
circumstances.
Tompkins
illustrated
the
difference
with
a
reference
to
a
Star
Trek
episode
in
which
half
the
crew
are
infected
with
a
virus
that
makes
them
move
very
slowly
through
time
and
the
other
half
very
quickly.
To
the
quick
half
it
appears
that
the
slow
half
are
not
moving
at
all,
whereas
to
the
slow
half
those
moving
quickly
have
become
a
blur.
Tompkins
sees
himself
standing
in
the
gap
between
theatre
and
architecture,
using
all
of
his
strength
to
pull
the
two
together.
107
That
is
quite
a
standard
impression
of
the
relationship
between
theatre
and
architecture,
however
the
scratch
process
reverses
the
view.
It
is
based
on
the
assumption
that
it
takes
time
to
make
good
work.
That
does
not
mean
the
artist
perfects
one
piece
of
work
very
slowly,
it
proposes
that
a
piece
of
work
will
go
through
a
number
of
live
prototypes
before
reaching
its
final
form.
It
actually
means
that
the
piece
will
be
shared
with
a
live
audience
much
more
quickly
than
in
a
traditional
theatre
process,
which
would
see
the
company
spending
four
to
six
weeks
rehearsing
before
giving
a
public
performance.
In
scratch
the
artist
might
do
a
week
of
research
and
development
before
testing
in
front
of
a
live
audience
to
get
feedback.
However
as
a
whole
arc,
the
piece
will
develop
much
more
slowly.
In
the
traditional
model,
after
the
six
weeks
of
rehearsals
are
over,
the
cast
go
on
to
perform
the
show
for
a
matter
of
weeks
or
months
and
the
creative
team
move
onto
the
next
piece.
In
scratch
Jubb
cited
the
example
of
making
Jerry
Springer
the
Opera:
There
can
be
several
months
from
one
scratch
stage
to
the
next
and
a
piece
of
work
can
take
up
to
three
years
to
create.
This
was
true
of
Jerry.
When
he
became
artistic
director,
Jubb
moved
away
from
the
linear
process
of
the
ladder
of
development
and
towards
a
web-like
structure
for
developing
work
that
felt
more
suited
to
the
idea
of
feedback
(fig.39).
Rather
than
climbing
from
one
rung
to
the
next,
an
artist
would
develop
work
in
a
number
of
different
contexts.
Punchdrunks
development
is
an
example
of
this:
a
ten
minute
piece
in
a
festival,
a
second
short
piece
followed
by
a
youth
theatre
project.
The
key
is
that
ideas
keep
resurfacing,
keep
circulating
and
coming
up
for
discussion,
working
their
way
into
scratch
nights
or
youth
theatre
projects.
Projects
would
evolve
organically
through
this
continuous
loop
of
developing,
sharing,
feedback
and
change.
When
it
came
to
working
with
an
architect,
BAC
did
not
want
Haworth
Tompkins
to
have
a
few
design
meetings,
disappear
and
then
return
with
a
full
set
of
plans.
They
would
never
commission
a
theatre
107 108
108
Steve Tompkins, interviewed at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 200 David Jubb, in a letter to Steve Tompkins, 26.9.2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive
th
37
piece like that, so why change their process for architecture? They were only prepared to invest a significant amount of time and money into The Masque of the Red Death because Punchdrunk had already made three shows at BAC. They had a relationship with the company and the company had a relationship with the building. BAC were looking for an architect prepared to commit to a long-term relationship with the building to develop ideas collaboratively and slowly.
38
Things
that
do
not
belong
or
the
non-theatre
theatre
space
In
his
letter
to
Tompkins
Jubb
referred
to
the
non-theatre
origins
of
BACs
architecture
and
its
relationship
to
the
theatrical
activity
taking
place
there
as
things
that
do
not
belong.
Jubb
had
already
decided
that
BACs
success
was
due
in
part
to
its
use
of
the
town
hall
as
a
theatre
space.
Any
capital
intervention
would
have
to
explore
and
understand
that
relationship:
When
something
doesnt
entirely
belong
it
is
a
good
provocation
for
creativity
I
have
an
instinct
that
this
will
be
about
looking
to
its
foundations
as
a
town
hall
rather
than
seeking
dramatic
conversion
as
a
theatreWe
will
end
up
with
one
of
the
most
exciting
arts
buildings
in
the
UK.
Not
because
its
shiny,
not
because
its
perfectly
organised,
not
because
its
a
tailor
made
theatre,
but
because
it
provides
an
adventure
for
artists
and
audiences,
because
it
reveals
itself
in
unexpected
ways,
because
you
can
lose
yourself
inside
it
and
because
you
feel
like
you
dont
entirely
belong
because
that
feels
like
an
exciting
place
to
be.
Tompkins
wrote
that
it
was
due
to
lack
of
any
major
funds
to
invest
in
capital
works
that
BACs
impact
on
the
fabric
of
the
building
to
date
was
minimal,
light-footed
enough
not
to
dislodge
all
of
its
municipal
cobwebs.
110 109
alterations
and
furnishings
over
a
century,
without
ever
undergoing
a
comprehensive
redevelopment:
1960s
cloakrooms,
boarded-up
fireplaces,
municipal
kitchens,
abandoned
subterranean
stores
has
remained
intact,
a
compelling
and
secret
world
that
members
of
the
public
rarely
glimpse
but
to
which
artists
are
almost
invariably
drawn.
111
town
hall
into
a
theatre
would
be
to
risk
the
very
thing
that
gave
the
building
its
theatrical
alchemy.
However
Tompkins
also
felt
that
through
the
piecemeal
conversion
of
the
space
into
an
arts
centre
some
of
the
power
of
the
found
space
has
been
dissipated,
tamed
by
the
too-familiar
signs
of
the
Cultural
Institution.
112
Not only had the building been tamed, but the potential of the spaces to be
discovered
and
used
by
artists
was
also
limited:
undeveloped
areas
of
the
building,
such
as
the
west
wing
attic
with
no
access,
the
rooms
filled
with
asbestos
or
the
damp
basements.
Tompkins
sought
to
strip
away
the
elements
that
dissipated
or
tamed
whilst
tuning
the
spaces
to
performance
capability.
113
Preserving
a
sense
of
excitement
and
of
the
unknown
in
a
space
is
challenging.
It
tests
the
role
of
the
architect,
who
is
usually
brought
in
to
create
a
perfectly
organised
building
or
design
something
tailor
made.
Rarely
does
a
client
say
this
doesnt
work
perfectly,
but
that
works
for
us.
However
109 110
David Jubb, in a letter to Steve Tompkins, 26.9.2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive Steve Tompkins, in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive 111 Steve Tompkins, in a letter to David Jubb, September 2006, Included in BAC Board Papers 2.10.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive 112 Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.9 113 Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.11
39
both Jubb and Tompkins recognised that what might be perceived as problematic in a normal theatre, was the very thing that artists were gaining traction on. The less than perfect rooms and services were pushing artists to solve problems creatively, and making them feel at home. It is finding an awkward balance between enabling a space and over-compensating for it. As with the creation of an environment for a child to play in, it is important to have certain elements such as enough room to run around and sufficient warmth, but it is equally important to avoid solving every problem for them. There should be enough room for them to stretch their imaginations and find their own solutions. The Masque of the Red Death raised lots of issues about the buildings functionality and in seeking to solve some of them BAC and Haworth Tompkins had to determine which ones would increase the theatrical capability of the building, without over-determining it for future use. Punchdrunk struggled with the level of power available in the Grand Hall. They couldnt light the space and heat the dressing rooms at the same time without triggering a power cut. The design of the set for the Grand Hall was also limited by the size of the access doors: double swinging doors around seven feet high. Instead of making any changes that defined what kind of theatre one could make in the space as Levitt Bernsteins design to install a particular kind of seating rake might have BAC and Haworth Tompkins decided to solve the electrical deficiency, enlarge the doors to 3.1m and make an opening in the side wall to allow larger sets into the hall. These three pieces of work changed the performance capability of the space, without defining the kind of work that could be made or removing the sense that theatre does not belong in the Grand Hall. The next artist to make work in the space is given the opportunity to have their creativity provoked in the same way as those who discovered it first.
40
A
building
that
needs
its
inhabitants
BAC
and
Punchdrunks
broad
aim
for
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
was
to
create
a
promenade
performance
environment
that
would
give
the
audience
as
much
freedom
as
possible
to
roam.
The
feeling
of
risk
was
fundamental
to
the
audiences
experience
of
the
show.
However
achieving
this
access
all
areas
environment
posed
some
significant
organisational
challenges.
When
the
project
was
presented
at
a
staff
meeting,
Jubb
began
by
saying:
Id
like
you
to
wear
the
hat
that
makes
you
want
to
work
in
the
performing
arts,
that
has
made
you
decide
not
to
work
in
the
health
service,
law
or
retail
industry.
Id
like
you
to
wear
the
hat
that
makes
you
work
in
theatre.
This
is
because
the
idea
I
want
to
share
is
about
what
I
think
is
next
for
theatre.
The
plans
for
the
project
involved
the
dissolution
of
the
traditional
frontier
between
front
of
house
and
back
of
house.
Jubb
knew
that
they
would
therefore
require
a
seismic
shift
in
the
way
the
building
operates.
115 114
Box office, ticket collection, managing the audiences entrance into the show,
care
of
the
audience
in
the
building,
fire
strategies,
access
to
services,
temperature
loads
across
the
building
and
access
for
the
visually
impaired
all
had
to
be
reconsidered.
Keeping
the
organisational
side
of
the
theatre
running
alongside
the
show
was
also
a
new
challenge.
All
the
permanent
staff
would
have
to
be
moved
and
Haworth
Tompkins
first
practical
task
was
finding
new
locations
inside
the
building
for
the
administration,
technical
and
production
team
offices
in
order
to
free
up
valuable
performance
spaces.
An
out
of
use
social
services
kitchen
under
the
Grand
Hall
was
stripped
out
and
converted
into
the
production
office
(fig.42).
In
the
months
prior
to
the
set
build
a
large
quantity
of
asbestos
was
removed
from
across
the
building
to
meet
health
and
safety
requirements.
A
false
wall
was
inserted
into
the
gallery,
creating
a
small
library
on
one
side
and
the
artistic
directors
and
administration
office
on
the
other
(fig.43).
If
any
member
of
staff
wanted
to
leave
the
building
after
the
show
went
up
at
seven,
they
had
to
be
wearing
a
mask
in
order
to
blend
in
with
the
rest
of
the
audience
as
they
made
their
way
through
the
world
of
the
show
to
the
nearest
exit.
The
ambitions
of
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
posed
major
challenges
to
building
operations.
The
building
functioned
on
the
regular
model,
running
three
contained
studio
spaces
but
in
order
to
overcome
the
health
and
safety
risks
posed
by
opening
up
areas
of
the
building
which
were
previously
inaccessible
to
the
public,
such
as
the
attic,
BACs
procedures
had
to
reviewed.
Punchdrunk
and
BAC
relied
on
a
small
army
of
volunteers
on
a
nightly
basis.
The
license
to
perform
was
granted
on
the
understanding
there
would
be
twenty
six
volunteers
inside
the
show,
placed
in
high
risk
areas,
trained
to
evacuate
the
building
in
case
of
a
fire.
This
meant
that
running
the
show
114 115
David Jubb, personal notes for staff presentation, June/July 2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive Recorded conversation, 23.11.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive, p.10
41
would
require
recruiting
and
managing
four
thousand
three
hundred
and
sixty
eight
volunteers
over
seven
months,
not
counting
the
one
hundred
design
volunteers
needed
to
help
build
the
set.
By
creating
an
environment
in
which
audiences
could
experience
the
delicious
and
intrinsically
theatrical
sense
of
trespass
that
wandering
into
unseen
parts
of
the
building
engenders
116
creating an environment that relied on people. During the Masque of the Red Death the buildings operations team overcame health and safety risks, time constraints and staffing challenges with a small army of volunteers. Instead of progressing towards an architecture that eliminated man power, the building needed its occupants more than ever before. The Masque of the Red Death afforded BAC and Haworth Tompkins the opportunity to experiment and to begin to understand the principles of the scratch process in an architectural context. However they felt as though they were entering uncharted waters, so they began searching for a wider context for Playgrounding that would give them perspective on their own findings. It was with this in mind that the artistic directors of BAC travelled with Steve Tompkins to visit a theatre in Sao Paulo.
116
Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.9
42
3.2:
A
wider
context
for
Playgrounding:
Lina
Bo
Bardi
and
Teatro
Oficina
In
November
2007
when
Jubb,
Tompkins
and
Barrett
walked
around
BAC
to
discuss
potential
architectural
alterations
for
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death,
Jubb
mentioned
a
theatre
he
had
seen
on
a
trip
to
Brazil
in
November
2006
when
he
was
invited
by
the
British
Council
to
Sao
Paulo
to
take
part
in
Proximo
Ato,
a
national
theatre
conference.
One
night
he
went
to
Teatro
Oficina
to
see
The
Fight,
a
piece
of
work
by
Ze
Celso
(Jos
Celso
M.
Corra).
The
outside
of
the
theatre
was
unassuming,
run
down,
unusually
long
and
narrow
(figs.44-45).
The
experience
he
shared
with
Tompkins
and
Barrett,
a
year
later,
was
about
empathy.
He
was
waiting
outside
for
his
ticket
when
the
doors
of
the
theatre
burst
open
and
the
cast
poured
out.
Forty
performers,
some
as
young
as
twelve,
followed
by
the
audience,
dressed
for
battle,
brandishing
guns
and
riding
canons
down
the
street.
A
man
started
shouting
at
Jubb
in
Portuguese.
Jubb
realised
he
was
telling
him
to
hold
onto
the
door,
which
had
flown
off
its
hinges
from
the
impact
of
the
mass
exodus.
Jubb
instantly
felt
involved:
I
suddenly
felt
this
amazing
connection
to
the
building
this
extraordinary
experience
I
felt
so
part
of
it.
Partly
because
it
didnt
work
partly
because
you
had
to
help
them
you
were
party
to
it.
117
Brazils
transformation
from
a
dictatorship
to
a
republic.
The
performance
lasted
until
midnight.
Jubb
described
it
as
sumptuous,
extraordinary,
mental
theatre,
like
being
transported
to
a
1970
happening
or
orgy
or
both.
118
In June 2008 Jubb mentioned Teatro Oficina again in a design team meeting at
Haworth
Tompkins
Architects.
Some
research
had
established
that
the
architect
responsible
for
the
space
was
the
Italian
born
Lina
Bo
Bardi.
In
that
meeting
it
transpired
that
Bo
Bardi
was
an
important
inspiration
for
Tompkins'
practice
but
as
few
studies
of
Bo
Bardis
work
are
in
print
in
English,
and
Teatro
Oficina
is
a
lesser
known
building,
Tompkins'
had
not
connected
Jubbs
story
about
visiting
the
theatre
with
her
work.
She
is
better
known
for
Sao
Paulos
Museum
of
Modern
Art
(MASP,
fig.46),
the
community
centre
SESC
Pompia
(fig.47)
and
her
own
home,
The
Glasshouse.
The
British
Council
asked
Jubb
to
return
to
Proximo
Ato
in
November
2008.
A
trip
was
planned
that
would
combine
the
conference
with
a
return
visit
to
Teatro
Oficina
and
an
exploration
of
Bo
Bardis
work,
the
idea
being
that
if
the
space
was
powerful,
perhaps
there
were
lessons
to
be
learnt
from
it
that
could
be
applied
to
BACs
emerging
process.
The
story
behind
the
space
was
unexpected,
complex
and
exciting.
As
with
other
spaces
that
have
become
known
for
their
particular
potency,
the
story
has
built
up
layers
of
myth
which
make
it
complicated
to
separate
the
truth
from
the
aura.
The
company
Uzyna
Uzona
was
founded
in
1958
by
a
group
of
students
from
the
University
of
Sao
Paulo.
Teatro
Oficina
was
inaugurated
on
the
16
of
August
1961.
The
building
went
through
three
architectural
phases
and
as
it
stands
today
it
is
referred
to
as
Teatro
Oficina
4.
The
original
function
of
117 118
th
David Jubb, Recorded conversation, 23.11.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive, p.9-10 David Jubb Email from davidj@bac.org.uk to staff@bac.org.uk, November 2006
43
the
space
is
unknown,
although
the
symbol
for
Teatro
Oficina
(Workshop
theatre)
is
an
anvil,
which
may
indicate
the
buildings
previous
use.
The
building
that
the
company
moved
into
in
1961
was
a
converted
space,
built
by
Joaquim
Guedes,
a
well-known
architect
famous
for
being
anti-Niemeyer,
rejecting
formalism
and
working
on
projects
that
responded
to
the
needs
of
everyday
life.
The
unorthodox
shape
of
the
shell,
forty
two
metres
tall
by
eight
and
half
metres
wide,
led
to
the
nickname
sandwich
theatre.
Guedes
converted
the
unusually
high,
long
and
narrow
building
into
a
theatre
with
two
sets
of
bleachers
divided
by
a
wooden
platform
stage.
If
the
building
prior
to
conversion
was
Teatro
Oficina
1,
Guedes
theatre
would
be
Teatro
Oficina
2.
The
company
moved
into
the
theatre
and
dedicated
themselves
to
the
metaphoric
translation
of
the
period
and
Teatro
Oficina
2
became
an
important
centre
of
the
artistic
vanguard
and
resistance
movement
during
the
period
of
military
dictatorship.
The
theatre
was
denied
a
license
and
shut
down
almost
immediately
after
opening
and
repeatedly
thereafter.
Between
1961
and
1966
they
staged
productions
of
Gorkys
The
Enemies
and
Philistines,
Tis
a
Pity
Shes
a
Whore,
Max
Frischs
Andorra,
each
one
increasing
the
possibilities
of
the
sandwich
theatre.
119
threats,
it
was
burnt
to
the
ground
by
paramilitary
groups.
In
1967
a
partnership
to
reconstruct
the
building
was
proposed
with
Flavio
Imprio,
who
had
designed
a
set
using
the
full
height
of
the
space
for
a
production
of
Tenessee
Williams
Streetcar
Named
Desire
directed
by
Augusto
Boal
in
1962
as
well
as
Andorra,
directed
by
Ze
Celso,
in
1965.
The
theatre
was
rebuilt
in
1967,
Teatro
Oficina
3,
and
in
1968
Imprio
designed
the
set
for
Galileo
Galilei
by
Brecht.
It
was
during
this
production
that
Celso
and
Imprio
discovered
the
entire
space
as
a
performance
area
and
reclaimed
physical
contact
with
the
audience,
like
the
Carnival,
the
Candombl
and
Umbanda:
the
invasion
and
return
of
the
pagan
Greek
chorus
to
the
theatre
The
following
year
Italian
born
Architect
Lina
Bo
Bardi
collaborated
with
Celso
for
the
first
time.
The
year
before
she
came
to
work
at
Teatro
Oficina,
Bo
Bardi
finished
building
MASP,
making
her
one
of
Brazils
most
distinguished
architects.
At
Teatro
Oficina
she
designed
a
production
of
Brechts
In
the
Jungle
of
the
Cities
(fig.48).
Bo
Bardis
designs
for
the
set
indicate
that
Imprio
had
constructed
a
theatre
space
in
traverse,
with
a
bank
of
audience
on
either
side.
During
their
first
collaboration
Celso
and
Bardi
began
to
explore
the
potential
of
the
space
beyond
this.
They
turned
the
central
platform
into
a
boxing
ring
which
they
repeatedly
destroyed,
in
order
to
excavate
the
foundations
of
the
theatre.
121 120
established company with a vision for a particular kind of theatre (public, political, actively engaged with its audience), a company of actors inhabiting and creating in a space long before the
Cronologia 50 Anos, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/bixigo, 13.2.2009, p.3, trans. by the author. Cronologia 50 Anos, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/bixigo, 13.2.2009, p.3, trans. by the author. Cronologia 50 Anos, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/bixigo, 13.2.2009, p.4, trans. by the author.
44
involvement
of
an
architect,
and
that
space
being
unexpected:
a
conversion
rather
than
a
purpose
built
theatre.
1970
was
called
the
year
of
silence,
during
which
actors
from
Teatro
Oficina
and
two
other
companies
blockaded
themselves
inside
the
theatre
for
a
month
in
protest
against
the
dictatorship.
In
1971
The
Living
Theatre
troupe
arrived
in
Brazil
from
New
York
and
plans
were
made
for
a
collaboration
that
would
tour
South
America.
The
plans
never
come
to
fruition.
Instead
the
Oficina
company
toured
Brazil,
taking
their
popular
classical
repertoire
to
the
major
cities
and
the
more
subversive
work
to
the
Northern
part
of
the
country.
In
1972
Bo
Bardi
designed
one
further
production
for
Ze
Celso
of
Gracias
Seor
in
the
Teatro
Tereza
Rachel
in
Rio
de
Janeiro.
The
company
was
under
extreme
pressure,
financially,
personally
and
politically.
Then
on
the
21
of
April
1974
the
police
invaded
Teatro
Oficina,
opening
fire
on
the
occupants.
No
one
was
injured
but
Ze
Celso
was
arrested
and
tortured.
A
member
of
the
company
wrote
a
fake
telegram
demanding
his
release,
signing
it
from
Marlon
Brando,
Sartre,
Levy
Strauss,
Orson
Wells,
Fellini,
Sophia
Loren,
John
Lennon,
Elizabeth
Taylor,
Jane
Fonda,
Beckett,
Borges
and
Garcia
Marquez.
Astonishingly
the
military
released
Ze
Celso
in
response,
but
kept
him
under
surveillance.
Unable
to
make
work
in
Brazil,
the
company
left
and
travelled
to
a
self-imposed
exile
in
Portugal,
where
they
worked
until
1979,
leaving
Teatro
Oficina
empty.
The
story,
or
myth,
of
the
Oficina
company
is
intimately
woven
into
Brazils
recent
history
and
the
building
reflects
the
talents
of
its
occupants:
it
is
a
storyteller.
The
company
returned
to
their
home
in
Sao
Paulo
after
the
fall
of
the
dictatorship
and
the
theatre
was
reopened
on
the
21
April
1979,
commemorating
both
the
public
hanging
of
Tiradentes,
a
leading
member
of
the
Brazilian
revolutionary
movement
against
the
Portuguese
in
1792,
and
the
theatres
own
greatest
day
of
political
terror
when
the
police
opened
fire
in
1974.
In
1982,
thirteen
years
after
she
first
worked
in
the
building,
it
was
decided
to
carry
out
Bo
Bardis
design
for
the
space.
When
these
designs
were
first
drawn
up,
whether
during
her
work
there
in
the
late
sixties,
during
the
companys
exile
or
in
the
three
years
after
their
return
is
unclear.
However
in
1982
they
gutted
the
interior,
ripping
out
Imprios
stage
(described
as
Italian),
to
make
way
for
Bo
Bardis
project.
The
conservatives
in
the
Condephaat
122 123
st st
and Iphan
were unhappy that Ze Celso and Bo Bardi were gutting a theatre already
threatened by property speculation, designed by an important architect, in a quarter of Sao Paulo suffering from large areas of dereliction. The project took a decade to complete but shows continued to be made in the space. The output slowed slightly and there was a greater focus on the production of films, but the chronology indicates that the building works did not entirely impede theatrical activity. Bo Bardis plans for the theatre were much larger and more ambitious than what was finally
122 123
Council for the defence of cultural heritage Instituto do Patrimnio Histrico e Artstico Nacional (National Institute of historical and artistic heritage)
45
completed
and
Teatro
Oficina
4
was
not
officially
finished
until
1993,
a
year
after
Bo
Bardis
death.
Ze
Celso
called
the
theatre
her
swan
song.
What
emerges
from
this
rough
outline
of
events
is
a
remarkable
approach
to
theatre
space,
with
two
defining
characteristics.
Firstly,
all
the
architects
who
worked
on
the
space
in
the
period
1967
to
1993
also
designed
for
productions
in
the
space
Flavio
Imprio
and
Bo
Bardi
both
designed
shows
before
making
any
major
changes
to
the
space
and
Edson
Elito,
who
worked
alongside
Bo
Bardi,
produced
films
with
Celso
for
three
productions
after
1980.
With
a
building
project
that
stretched
over
a
decade,
taking
place
alongside
the
business
of
making
theatre,
one
must
imagine
a
highly
developed,
integrated
relationship
between
Elito,
Bo
Bardi
and
Celso
and
between
the
demands
of
architecture
and
theatre.
Plans
for
the
new
theatre
space
indicate
the
level
at
which
this
dialogue
was
taking
place:
in
one
of
Bo
Bardis
sketches
a
raised
walkway
is
indicated,
marked
with
the
words
Walkway.
Not
advised
by
the
architect.
(fig.49)
Secondly,
the
uniquely
production-focused
approach
to
the
space.
By
the
time
Teatro
Oficina
2
was
burnt
down
in
1966,
the
company
had
been
working
in
the
theatre
for
five
years
and
Ze
Celso
had
developed
a
form
of
theatre
particularly
for
that
space,
indicated
by
projects
such
as
Imprio
and
Boals
Streetcar
Named
Desire
using
the
entire
height
of
the
space.
124
Teatro
Oficina,
Ze
Celso
said
that
any
further
design
must
begin
in
the
same
way
as
Oficina
4
(Bo
Bardis)
and
all
the
preceding
Oficina
theatre
buildings:
inspired
by
a
specific
dramaturgy,
that
is:
by
the
plays.
125
knowledge
of
theatre
architecture.
They
had
to
understand
the
way
theatre
was
made
in
that
particular
space.
There
is
an
enormous
amount
of
specificity
and
belief
in
the
significance
of
the
present
in
this
practice,
coupled
with
a
lack
of
preciousness
about
the
design:
respond
to
present
needs,
build
to
allow
change
later.
Celso
stated
that
a
design
has
to
follow
the
expression
and
the
artistic
needs
of
the
production
forces.
Bo
Bardis
design
is
so
simple
that
it
allows
for
great
complexity
in
staging.
The
new
space
incorporated
the
yards
of
the
Candombl,
the
parades
of
the
samba
schools,
the
light
of
the
sun,
the
city
and
the
technology
of
film,
sound
and
light.
127 126
design. The annual celebrations of carnival in Brazil are led by the cities samba schools. This is therefore a reference to a space of parade or procession, the commonest form of theatrical activity in Brazil. The basic layout of Teatro Oficina is based on a long, wooden promenade sloping from the
124 125
Cronologia 50 Anos, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/bixigo, 13.2.2009, p.2, trans. by the author. Celso, J.M., First Untimely Considerations on the Creation of the Anhangaba da Feliz Cidade, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/teatro_estadio, 11.10.2004, p.2 126 Celso, J.M., First Untimely Considerations on the Creation of the Anhangaba da Feliz Cidade, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/teatro_estadio, 11.10.2004, p.2 127 http://www.teatroficina.com.br/plays, trans. by the author
46
front
doors
to
the
far
wall
(South
to
North).
This
sense
of
movement
through
the
space
is
important
and
is
always
recreated
when
the
Oficina
company
tours
away
from
their
own
space
(figs.50-51).
Candombl
is
an
Afro-Brazilian
religion.
The
rituals
of
the
Candombl
take
place
in
the
terreiro,
which
means
sacred
site.
However
terreiro
also
means
yard
or
public
square,
the
place
where
the
daily
life
of
the
community,
particularly
the
women
takes
place.
Houses
built
in
inland
Brazil
often
have
terreiros.
This
double
meaning
of
the
sacred
and
the
public,
shared
space
is
embodied
in
the
theatre.
Whilst
working
on
Oficina,
Bo
Bardi
was
also
building
SESC
128
Pompia: a government-funded
community
recreation
centre
comprising
a
library,
a
canteen,
a
sporting
complex
and
a
theatre.
Bo
Bardi
converted
an
old
refrigerator
factory
and
built
two
concrete
towers
alongside
it
for
the
sports
complex.
The
space
outside
the
theatre
of
SESC
Pompia
is
the
alleyway
between
two
sheds,
roofed
over
with
glass
tiles
to
create
a
foyer,
which
Bo
Bardi
also
referred
to
as
a
terreiro,
a
place
for
special
displays
(figs.52-53).
This
foyer
space
has
another
similarity
with
Oficina:
it
is
designed
as
a
performance
space,
but
it
is
essentially
a
void,
which
is
referred
to
in
both
cases
as
the
gora.
Oswald
de
Andrade,
the
poet
whose
works
Ze
Celso
often
staged,
declared
through
the
character
of
the
Poet
in
his
1937
play
The
Dead:
Ill
live
in
the
gora.
Ill
live
in
the
Social!
Released!
The
day
will
come
when
my
closed
abscess
will
open
itself
on
the
main
square!
Ill
expose
myself
to
the
large
masses
129 130
The gora theatre is a released space, open for people to improvise in.
Interestingly
the
actual
theatre
space
at
SESC
Pompia
(fig.54)
is,
according
to
its
manager,
not
very
successful
and
is
used
more
for
gigs
than
for
theatre.
Although
more
research
needs
to
be
done
into
SESC
and
Bo
Bardis
other
theatre
spaces,
this
demonstrates
that
it
was
not
her
alone
who
was
responsible
for
envisioning
a
space
of
visceral
delight,
intelligent
playfulness
and
theatrical
subtlety
at
Teatro
Oficina.
131
It was the creative dialogue between her and Ze Celso, the theatre maker. Only a small
part
of
Bo
Bardis
original
design
was
actually
built
in
the
decade
before
her
death.
The
theatre
was
meant
to
open
out
to
a
large
amphitheatre
behind,
making
what
is
now
the
main
auditorium
the
entrance
through
which
the
audience
and
cast
would
process
at
the
beginning
of
every
show.
Ze
Celso
is
now
raising
the
funds
to
continue
the
works
Bo
Bardi
began
which,
if
carried
out,
will
be
the
third
phase
of
a
project
stretching
over
as
many
decades.
Bolted
into
the
walls
either
side
of
the
promenade
is
a
simple
scaffolding
structure
which
holds
the
audience
either
side
and
the
dressing
rooms
and
tech
boxes
at
either
end
(fig.55).
The
walls
are
of
exposed
brick
and
untreated
concrete,
typically
tactile
materials
familiar
to
Bo
Bardis
work.
Half
of
one
of
the
walls
is
pierced
with
a
floor
to
ceiling
window,
allowing
in
sunlight
and
a
view
across
the
Bixiga
quarter
(fig.56).
A
simple
aluminium
roof
plate
slides
back
to
reveal
the
night
sky.
Trees
grow
128 129
Social Service for Commerce Andrade, O., The Dead 1937, quoted by Celso J.M. in First Untimely Considerations on the Creation of the Anhangaba da Feliz Cidade, http://teatroficina.uol.com.br/teatro_estadio, 11.10.2004, p.2 130 Olivia de Oliveira, Subtle Substances. The Architecture of Lina Bo Bardi, Editorial Gustavo Gili, Barcelona, 2006, p. 210 131 th Tompkins, S., Theatres Trust Conference Paper, delivered 9 June 2009
47
up
the
inside
of
the
window
and
a
working
fountain
feeds
vines
climbing
up
the
brick
wall
opposite.
The
space
was
designed
to
support
modern
technology
in
such
a
way
that
it
could
be
constantly
updated.
Nothing
is
inlaid,
hidden
or
buried.
The
tech
box
itself
can
migrate
across
the
theatre
according
to
the
technical
demands
of
each
piece.
Teatro
Oficina
is
not
without
its
complications.
It
is
not
acoustically
sealed,
it
cannot
be
successfully
darkened
during
daylight
hours,
there
is
no
privacy
for
the
cast,
a
workshop
to
build
the
set
or
separate
rehearsal
rooms.
It
can
only
seat
400
people
and
the
sightlines
are
technically
terrible:
anyone
climbing
to
the
second
level
or
above
has
to
sit
on
the
edge
of
their
seat
and
hang
over
the
railings
to
look
at
the
tops
of
the
actors
heads.
All
the
main
actors
have
to
wear
or
carry
microphones
to
be
heard.
At
a
recent
Theatres
Trust
Conference
Steve
Tompkins
reflected
on
Teatro
Oficina:
[It]
breaks
nearly
every
rule
of
the
theatre
design
guide
and
would
never
survive
an
Arts
Council
review
there
are
no
catering
facilities
apart
form
local
cafes,
because
the
public
foyer
is
under
the
flyover
across
the
road
There
is
no
rehearsal
room,
no
conference
suite,
no
bookshop,
no
fly
tower,
none
of
the
things
that
we
have
come
to
regard
as
pre-requisites
when
we
assemble
our
design
briefs.
The
theatre
poses
the
question:
does
any
of
this
matter
if
it
was
designed
by
and
for
the
artists
who
make
work
in
that
space?
It
generates
an
electrifying
atmosphere,
so
despite
the
seeming
discomfort
the
audiences
keep
coming
back
(figs.
57-58).
And
they
stay
through
six
to
seven
hours
of
theatre,
something
a
velvet
chair
and
perfect
acoustics
rarely
lures
anyone
into.
Jubb
and
Tompkins
saw
the
parallels
to
be
drawn
between
the
history
of
this
building
and
their
own
process
at
BAC.
Tompkins
felt
that
the
building
offered
a
challenge
to
the
UK
architecture
industry
engaged
in
building
spaces
for
the
performing
arts:
This
will
mean
a
drastic
reappraisal
of
construction
techniques
and
materials,
as
well
as
different
audience
expectations
of
environmental
comfort.
It
also
means
more
time
spent
developing
briefs,
driving
down
revenue
costs
and
building
only
what
we
are
sure
is
essential.
Tompkins
acknowledged
that
after
visiting
Oficina
to
research
the
ideas
behind
Playgrounding,
seeing
the
results
of
a
comparable
process
meant
that
we
have
been
braver
and
more
experimental
in
our
thinking
as
a
result.
134 133 132
132 133
Tompkins, S., Theatres Trust Conference Paper, delivered 9 June 2009 th Tompkins, S., Theatres Trust Conference Paper, delivered 9 June 2009 134 th Tompkins, S., Theatres Trust Conference Paper, delivered 9 June 2009
th
48
3.3:
Playgrounding
and
the
architectural
process
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
afforded
BAC
and
Haworth
Tompkins
the
opportunity
to
develop
their
relationship
with
each
other
and
the
building,
establishing
the
principles
upon
which
they
would
work,
summarised
in
Tompkins
description
of
Playgrounding:
To
slowly
transform
the
existing
building
over
many
years
through
an
organic
process
of
small-scale
projects,
enlisting
the
traces
of
individual
production
designs
and
repeated
conversations
with
artists.
The
building
will
not
close
at
any
point
and
the
construction
work
will
be
regarded
in
exactly
the
same
way
as
a
series
of
long
performances,
with
statutory
officers
and
builders
treated
not
as
necessary
evils
but
as
creative
collaborators.
It
was
only
when
the
show
finished
and
the
next
phase
of
the
project
went
into
planning
that
the
relationship
between
those
principles
and
the
conventional
architectural
process
was
understood
in
more
detail.
Almost
all
Capital
work
undertaken
in
the
United
Kingdom
bases
its
design
and
delivery
process
on
the
Plan
of
Work,
published
by
the
Royal
Institute
of
British
Architects
[RIBA].
In
a
design
team
meeting
there
can
be
representatives
from
five
or
six
different
professions
as
well
as
the
client.
The
Plan
of
Work
becomes
a
multilingual
dictionary
that
keeps
everyone
on
the
same
page,
on
schedule
and,
technically,
it
keeps
everyone
safe.
Recent
studies
carried
out
on
the
design
and
delivery
of
buildings
for
the
performing
arts
however
indicate
that
the
Plan
of
Work
is
not
always
conducive
to
the
delivery
of
a
successful,
dynamic
environment.
This
study
will
conclude
by
looking
at
how
the
Plan
of
Work
may
be
failing
the
arts
client
and
how
Playgrounding
suggests
potential
alternatives
to
the
established
process.
Playgroundings
three
process
principles
could
all
be
summarised
in
one
word:
risk.
Each
one
encourages
risk-taking
in
a
particular
way.
Improvisation
encourages
parties
to
set
out
without
knowing
exactly
how
the
project
will
end
and
gives
them
the
freedom
change
their
minds
along
the
way.
Collaboration
supports
shared
responsibility
for
a
project.
Placing
artists
at
the
heart
of
the
process
means
dissolving
the
architects
creative
control
over
the
project
and
increasing
the
unpredictability
of
the
results.
Taking
time
allows
for
a
much
longer
creative
period
and
encourages
beginning
a
project
without
defining
the
end.
Conversely
the
RIBA
Plan
of
Work
is
designed
to
minimise
risk
throughout
the
design
and
delivery
of
a
project.
The
possibilities
of
a
process
that
manages
risk
in
a
positive
way
will
be
looked
at
in
four
areas:
phasing,
conservation,
funding
and
liability.
135
135
th
49
Phasing
The
Plan
of
Work
was
devised
in
the
1950s
and
first
published
in
1964.
It
formally
organises
the
principle
work
phases
of
a
capital
project
into
a
series
of
sequential
stages.
These
stages
apportion
work
to
the
various
parties
and
assign
responsibilities.
At
the
end
of
each
stage
there
is
a
formal
sign
off,
when
all
parties
agree
on
the
work
that
has
been
completed
and
decide
that
the
project
is
ready
to
progress
to
the
next
stage.
These
stages
run
from
Work
Stage
A
to
Work
Stage
L.
The
initial
concept
is
developed
at
stage
A
and
fixed
by
stages
C/D.
Stages
E
through
L
are
concerned
with
the
delivery
of
the
project,
from
detailed
drawings
through
to
practical
completion.
These
stages
set
out
in
a
logical
fashion
the
activities
of
the
architect
normally
necessary
for
the
successful
completion
of
work
the
related
activities
of
other
contributors
to
the
design
process
are
also
shown
the
activity
schedules
cover
outputs
(tasks)
and
process.
136
Environments
[CABE]
recent
study
on
designing
and
delivering
buildings
for
the
performing
arts
notes
that
the
construction
industry
and
its
attendant
designers,
engineers
and
consultants
work
within
a
tightly-structured,
time-driven
framework.
It
is
rigidly
sequential
and
there
are
penalties
built
into
the
system
for
disrupting
this
sequence.
137
the
Performing
Arts
[DeDEPA],
Professor
Alan
Short
and
colleagues
sought
to
identify
factors
that
contribute
to
the
design
and
delivery
of
better
buildings
for
the
performing
arts,
buildings
where
the
original
creative
vision
has
survived
intact.
138
was
the
collision
between
the
notion
of
a
linearly
progressive
building
project
/
building
life
cycle
developing
over
several
years
(the
Plan
of
Work)
and
the
turbulence
of
a
theatre
company,
its
production
schedule,
personnel
and
the
evolving
nature
of
the
vision.
In
order
to
address
this
collision
the
CABE
guide
for
clients
notes
that
iteration
within
the
work
stages
is,
within
reason,
useful
and
desirable.
140 139
each stage to avoid lack of clarity. This does not therefore address the key issue, which is the relationship between the stages rather than the process within each stage. The sign off at the end of each stage is designed to resolve any ambiguity and to create clear, definite moments of decision. In order to achieve this clarity the Plan of Work has developed as an absolutely linear process. Although there is room for iteration within a particular stage, the over-riding aim is to freeze decisions from one stage to the next. The system is not designed to support change between one stage and the next, particularly between the design and delivery of a project. The Plan of Work notes that a significant contribution to making the process efficient and cost-effective can be achieved if client and designers
136 137
The Architects Plan of Work, RIBA Enterprises, 1998, page 1 Building Excellence in the arts: a guide for clients, Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment, 2009, Page 6 138 Short, A., Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue9, Autumn 2006, p.10 139 Short, A., Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue9, Autumn 2006, p.12 140 Building Excellence in the arts: a guide for clients, Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment, 2009, Page 6
50
agree to freeze the developed Project Brief at the end of the Detailed Proposals (stage D). introduction to the revised edition of the detailed Plan of Work (1998) advises:
141
The
The
need
for
adaptation
or
expansion
of
the
model
to
suit
the
requirements
of
each
project
and
for
each
practice,
and
for
careful
monitoring
of
consequences
when
the
logical
sequence
of
events
is
disturbed
or
delayed,
cannot
be
over-emphasised.
It
acknowledges
that
every
project
will
be
different,
that
unforeseen
circumstances
will
inevitably
affect
the
delivery
of
a
project
and
that
the
Plan
of
Work
alone
should
not
become
a
strait-jacket
imposing
inappropriate
discipline
143 142
, but it advises that any deviation from the model plan has the
potential
to
become
a
disruption
or
delay,
which
in
turn
is
likely
to
add
significantly
to
the
cost
of
a
project.
The
closing
paragraph
of
the
introduction
to
the
Plan
of
Work
reiterates
the
need
for
regularity:
It
cannot
be
over-emphasized,
however,
that
the
greater
the
number
of
unplanned
departures
the
greater
the
risk
of
loss
of
control
and
abortive
work.
The
Plan
of
Work
synthesises
the
output
of
each
contributor
to
a
project,
so
if
there
is
deviation
in
one
area,
it
could
negate
work
done
in
another.
As
The
Plan
of
Work
also
regulates,
at
arms
length,
the
funding
and
liability
of
a
project,
deviation
can
also
incur
risk
in
these
areas.
As
much
as
the
Plan
of
Work
purports
to
be
a
model
plan
or
guide,
in
effect
it
ties
every
contributor
into
a
standardised
linear
process
from
which
deviation
is
financially
or
legally
punitive.
BAC
balked
at
the
notion
of
signing
up
to
a
process
that
felt
like
an
anathema
to
their
own
practice,
lacking
the
dynamic
structure
inherent
in
scratch.
BAC
was
interested
in
developing
an
approach
comparative
to
scratch
that
legitimates
the
evolving
nature
of
the
vision
and
allows
for
the
ongoing
contribution
of
artists.
Christopher
Alexander,
author
Notes
on
the
Synthesis
of
Form,
looks
at
how
the
process
could
be
inspired
by
the
way
design
works
in
the
natural
world:
Things
that
are
good
have
a
certain
kind
of
structure.
You
cant
get
that
structure
except
dynamically.
Period.
In
nature
youve
got
continuous
very-small-feedback-loop
adaptation
going
on,
which
is
why
things
get
to
be
harmonious.
Thats
why
they
have
the
qualities
we
value.
If
it
wasnt
for
the
time
dimension,
it
wouldnt
happen.
145 144
141 142
The Architects Plan of Work, RIBA Enterprises, 1998, Work Stage Procedures The Architects Plan of Work, RIBA Enterprises, 1998, Introduction 143 The Architects Plan of Work, RIBA Enterprises, 1998, Work Stage Procedures 144 The Architects Plan of Work, RIBA Enterprises, 1998, Work Stage Procedures 145 Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.21
51
Alexander
notes
that
here
we
are
playing
the
major
role
in
creating
the
world,
and
we
havent
figured
this
out.
That
is
a
very
serious
matter.
146
Tompkins
and
BAC
decided
on
an
approach
that
divided
the
interventions
into
a
series
of
small-scale
projects,
spread
over
a
longer
period
of
time.
Each
project
would
be
viewed
in
the
same
way
as
a
production,
developing
over
a
series
of
phases.
Tompkins
described
this
as
a
series
of
minor
operations
as
opposed
to
open
heart
surgery.
As
the
interventions
would
be
less
traumatic
for
the
building
it
would
mean
that
BAC
could
remain
open
throughout
the
works,
avoiding
the
atrophy
in
community
and
revenue
funding
that
occurs
in
larger
scale
projects.
Crucially
however,
by
dividing
the
interventions
into
a
series
of
smaller
projects,
Haworth
Tompkins
and
BAC
were
able
to
introduce
an
element
of
dynamic
adaptation
into
the
project.
Instead
of
creating
a
complete
detailed
design,
then
taking
every
element
of
the
design
through
the
delivery
stages
in
a
pre-determined
order,
each
element
of
the
design
is
seen
as
its
own
project
that
goes
through
a
series
of
development
stages.
So
work
on
a
particular
area
of
the
building
or
a
particular
element
of
the
design
takes
place
repeatedly
over
the
course
of
the
entire
capital
project,
with
significant
time
lapses
in
between
each
period
of
work.
The
first
phase
is
seen
as
the
scratch
version
of
the
final
design,
implementing
some
of
the
more
temporary
elements
of
the
proposed
works
that
relate
to
the
surface
of
the
building.
New
ideas
or
lessons
learnt
from
the
first
phase
are
incorporated
into
the
next
one.
As
the
phases
progress
they
engage
with
the
more
permanent
or
embedded
elements
of
the
building
-
the
structure
or
services.
One
phase
informs
the
next,
making
fundamental
changes
of
design
ideas
between
work
stages
possible.
Lessons
can
also
be
taken
from
an
individual
project
and
applied
to
another.
An
example
of
this
is
the
design
for
the
staff
offices.
Before
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
the
staff
offices
were
going
to
be
placed
at
the
heart
of
the
building.
Due
to
the
requirements
of
the
production
this
was
not
possible
and
the
production
office
was
moved
into
an
old
social
services
kitchen
on
the
lower
ground
floor
at
the
far
northern
end
of
the
building.
After
the
show
plans
for
all
staff
offices
were
revised
when
it
became
clear
that,
despite
the
best
of
design
intentions,
placing
them
at
the
heart
of
the
building
would
freeze
up
valuable
performance
space.
At
the
end
of
DeDEPA
Short
makes
a
number
of
key
recommendations:
More
time
needs
to
be
spent
in
the
early
stages
developing
the
vision
and
exploring
its
implications
expect
the
design
to
remain
fluid
later
in
the
Plan
of
Work:
iterations
are
good.
147
146
147
Alexander, C., quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.21 Short, A., Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue9, Autumn 2006, p.12
52
BAC
and
Haworth
Tompkins
would
take
this
one
step
further
by
establishing
a
permanent
feedback
loop
within
the
capital
project
that
stretched
the
design
phase
(usually
stages
A
through
C)
across
the
entire
project.
After
a
talk
given
in
August
2008
on
the
idea
of
introducing
an
iterative
feedback
loop
into
the
architectural
process,
one
audience
member,
a
software
developer,
responded
that
the
proposed
shift
in
process
resembled
that
made
in
software
design
two
decades
ago,
from
the
waterfall
model
to
rapid
application
development
(RAD).
The
difference
between
these
two
models
demonstrates
succinctly
the
distinction
between
Playgrounding
and
the
Plan
of
Work.
The
waterfall
model
is
a
sequential
software
development
process
in
which
progress
is
seen
as
flowing
steadily
downwards
through
the
phases
It
was
formed
before
any
formal
software
development
methods
existed,
so
the
structure
was
borrowed
from
the
construction
and
manufacturing
industries.
The
software
designer
proceeds
from
one
phase
to
the
next
sequentially,
only
moving
forwards
when
a
phase
has
been
completed
and
finalized.
The
waterfall
model
has
undergone
a
number
of
amendments,
including
Big
Design
Up
Front
which,
like
DeDEPAs
recommendations,
encourages
investing
considerable
time
in
the
planning
phase
to
avoid
expensive
changes
thereafter.
It
was
however
found
to
be
impractical
as
it
imposed
on
software
a
model
made
for
highly
structured
physical
environments
in
which
after-the-fact
changes
are
prohibitively
costly.
148
waterfall
model
was
inherently
flawed
because
it
was
impossible
to
develop
one
phase
of
software
to
perfection
without
moving
on
and
learning
from
another
phase.
It
did
not
allow
for
the
fact
that
clients
may
not
know
exactly
what
they
need
from
the
beginning,
or
that
those
needs
might
change
during
the
delivery
stages.
In
Code
Complete,
Steve
McConnell
criticized
the
widespread
use
of
the
waterfall
model
by
referring
to
design
as
a
wicked
problem:
a
problem
whose
requirements
and
limitations
cannot
be
entirely
known
before
completion.
149
measure
twice,
cut
once
but
this
foundation
quickly
crumbles
if
the
problem
being
measured
is
constantly
changing
due
to
requirement
modifications
and
new
realizations
about
the
problem
itself.
150
As
with
early
town
halls,
it
was
found
that
it
took
so
long
to
build
the
software
that
by
the
151
time
it
came
to
the
user
the
requirements
had
changed,
resulting
in
inadequate
or
even
unusable
systems.
Rapid
Application
Development
arose
in
the
1990s
in
response
to
non-agile
processes
based
on
the
waterfall
model.
It
is
based
on
iterative
development
and
the
construction
of
prototypes.
Speed
of
development
is
key
as
software
is
put
through
a
cycle
of
model,
prototype,
back
to
model
and
so
148 149
53
forth. In this way prototyping is used to define users requirements and design the final system. RAD demonstrates many of the same pros and cons as Playgrounding. The short phases delay the final design significantly and although the incremental approach lowers the cost of changes that lack of up front detailed design is likely to result in more time and effort spent on design in the long run. RAD promotes a collaborative atmosphere by valuing the opinion of the user, actively engaged through prototyping. From the developers point of view this breeds dependency on a cohesive team and individuals commitment to the project, as well as opening the project to all of the difficulties pertaining to communal decision making. However, like Playgrounding, it levels the playing field for the inexperienced client. Some expert clients may know exactly what they need and how to express that in the right language for the architect or software developer. They will also know how to navigate the waterfall model or the Plan of Work to stay actively engaged in the development process, but the process does not encourage this, or help the client who is going through it for the first time. Lastly, since the process is iterative and incremental it can lead to a succession of prototypes that never culminate in a final product. The same happens in scratch: the Artist Development Officer of a regional theatre recently complained of artists using scratch as an excuse to never commit to a finished piece of work. In How Buildings Learn, Brand dissected the natural feedback relationship between different elements of a building. He divided a building into slow and rapid components. In general terms, the slow component dominates the rapid one: site dominates the structure, which dominates the skin etc. The architects of town halls grasped this, and the dangers of designing a building that would be obsolete before construction finished. They built a permanent foundation, a structure that could be added to without damaging the overall scheme, and allowed for flexible interior adaptation. The rapid process proposes change, providing the originality and the challenges. The slow process disposes, providing continuity and constraint. Over time however a building will naturally integrate the propositions of the rapid processes within them. As with any building with a new function, that relationship is cranked up a notch. The new function inevitably becomes a rapid process challenging the architecture to adapt to its needs: trying to open windows that dont work, create a black out in a room with lots of natural light, reach plugs that are too far away, fit too many desks into one office, rehearse in a room that isnt secure, eat too far away from a sink to wash up, change costumes where cues cannot be heard, warm up in a room that is too cold, play live music without sound proofing so it disturbs all the neighbours and so on. The Levitt Bernstein plan was one kind of response to those challenges. It sought to eliminate the friction between function and architecture by providing a fit- for-purpose space inside the original building. This allows other spaces to be used flexibly, but essentially freezes the relationship between theatre and architecture, committing the architecture and core function to one type of dialogue.
54
Another
approach
is
to
form
a
merger
between
function
and
architecture,
putting
in
place
a
system
to
support
ongoing
dialogue.
In
his
first
meeting
with
Felix
Barrett,
Tompkins
suggested
applying
Nitromors
to
the
walls
to
create
a
peeling
effect
and
to
discover
the
stories
underneath.
When
you
begin
to
merge
the
real
architecture
the
permanent
architecture
with
scenographics,
you
can
choose
what
is
authentic
and
what
is
not.
152
rather only than other way around. BAC and Haworth Tompkins wanted to ensure that theatre had an ongoing engagement in the capital plans by placing the role of the artist at the heart of the feedback loop. This was self evident in The Masque of the Red Death, when the artist repositioned the space as a scratch and design ideas responded to those proposals. It is not that straightforward in every case. The diagram below is based on specific examples of works carried out in the building and a conversation with Jubb about analysing the different ways in which architectural decisions have been made: Who /What Leads? Shows Other organisational ambitions e.g. Developing a home for artists inside BAC This breaks down the work carried out into two categories: work done for shows and work done to fulfil other ambitions of the organisation, not directly linked to a particular show. Each of these categories of work can either be led by an artist or by the space team (the makeup of the space team will be addressed in more detail below). The priorities of the diagram flow left to right. Work related to shows that is artist-led is the show itself . Work related to shows but led by the space team are enabling jobs such as opening the fireplace, removing asbestos or installing new offices to make room for the show. Works carried out to improve access to the Grand Hall would also fall into this category. Other organisational ambitions relate to areas such as access and facilities. As much as possible these are also artist-led, such as the first phase of the project to build a home for artists inside BAC, which was led by a Punchdrunk designer. Other projects that are likely to fall into this category are the conversion of the attic rooms into artists offices, the creation of a library and the development of Town Hall Road. The last category, space team led works to further organisational ambitions should make up the smallest part of works carried out. They should also not be the first e.g. Re-decorating the foyer area Artist e.g. The Masque of the Red Death Space Team e.g. New production offices in the old social services kitchens
152
Steve Tompkins, Recorded Conversation, 23.11.2006, Battersea Arts Centre archive, p.4
55
phase
of
a
project,
they
should
be
carried
out
in
response
to
an
artist-led
phase.
There
are
two
examples
of
works
carried
out
after
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
that
demonstrate
this
follow
of
priorities
at
work.
Just
after
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
finished
Tompkins
walked
around
BAC,
when
the
building
was
in
the
turmoil
of
the
get
out.
153
taking
part
in
a
one-on-one
scene,
had
walked
across
the
floor
in
the
same
pattern.
He
described
this
as
precious
presence
which
should
be
considered
equal
to
the
value
of
the
fabric
of
the
building
itself.
Preserving
each
of
these
markings
heightens
the
theatrical
voltage
of
the
space,
adding
layers
of
proven
theatrical
possibility.
154
sometimes referred to as going back to black. BAC had arrived at a temporary, performance-led state: some of the changes were meant to be selectively retained as permanent accretions in the building, some were meant to inspire the next phase of the design. Returning to a neutral state went against the flow of the project. It would erase the proposals made by the show and, because BAC was not in a neutral state before the show, it would mean someone on the design team would have to define neutral, and that decision would over-ride choices made about the spaces by artists. Some decisions were straightforward. There were architectural changes that formed part of the legacy of the show: the restored fire place, asbestos-free rooms and a new production office. However the vast majority of the changes were only skin deep: the technical infrastructure, the paintwork, the props and furnishings. Once Punchdrunk had removed most of the props and furnishings, what would remain as trace? What was precious? And what should be the catalyst for further change?. It was decided that as much as possible, surface elements of the production should be retained. Three of Punchdrunks designers, Beatrice Minns and Olivia Vaughn, (Heads of Props and Detail) and Helen Goddard (Head of Paint) stayed on as part of BACs in-house team to oversee the re-conversion. Rooms that had been repainted for the show kept their new colour (figs.59-60). It was decided that further change should only take place if it was driven by artistic intent. This approach could be summarised as resisting the temptation to touch up a space and leaving artists to their own creative devices, whilst keeping a sharp eye on their tendency to want to want to erase others work, having been inspired or provoked by it, simply out of a desire to control the environment. Jubb cites a project in which this value matrix for making architectural decisions was ignored. After the get out some of the first floor spaces underwent a makeover in order to increase their potential income from events. The floors were sanded and the walls patched and repainted matt greys, whites
153
154
Get out is a term used to describe the stripping back of a theatre after a show has finished, usually involving the removal of the set, the lights and often repainting the space.. Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.9
56
and
teals.
Some
of
the
details
left
behind
by
the
Punchdrunk
design
team
were
removed.
Later
Jubb
reflected:
The
central
problem
with
the
First
Floor
project
is
that
we
didnt
put
an
artist
in
charge.
Artists
tend
to
be
interested
in
story,
in
whats
authentic
and
therefore
in
my
experience
they
have
always
celebrated
what
is
already
there
my
favourite
artists
are
ones
that
are
not
scared
of
whats
already
present,
of
what
the
space
used
to
be,
of
the
hybrid
potential
of
their
own
work
and
the
space
as
it
stands.
On
the
First
Floor
project
we
were
neither
employing
artists
nor
using
the
architect
as
artist
(Steve
wasnt
involved
in
the
project)
and
it
led
to
the
voltage
(as
Steve
calls
it)
of
the
space
being
turned
down.
Mistake.
The
project
demonstrated
that
the
different
delivery
strands
within
BAC
(events,
theatre,
participate)
could
have
conflicting
demands
on
a
space.
Each
organisation
has
to
develop
their
own
value
system
for
making
these
decisions.
In
the
case
of
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
BAC
was
prepared
to
bear
the
financial
impact
of
the
Grand
Hall
being
out
of
use
for
events
for
seven
months.
For
the
First
Floor
project,
Jubb
later
realised
that
he
should
have
prioritised
the
artists
making
work
in
those
spaces
and
what
would
provide
the
most
stimulating
environment
for
them
over
the
potential
income
from
events.
The
qualities
that
the
spaces
gained
through
prioritising
the
lead
of
artists
through
a
phased
approach
to
works,
were
a
sense
of
past
presence
in
the
layers
and
of
ongoing
evolution
-
an
unfinished
quality.
This
is
described
by
Brian
Eno,
quoted
by
Stewart
Brand:
We
are
convinced
by
things
that
show
internal
complexity,
that
show
traces
of
an
interesting
evolution.
Those
signs
tell
us
that
we
might
be
rewarded
if
we
accord
it
our
trust.
An
important
aspect
of
design
is
the
degree
to
which
the
object
involves
you
in
its
own
completion.
Some
work
invites
you
into
itself
by
not
offering
a
finished,
glossy,
one-reading- only
surface.
Both
Tompkins
and
Jubb
had
cited,
in
the
first
letters
they
wrote
to
each
other,
the
kind
of
project
they
wanted
to
avoid:
the
classic
Lottery
project
model
that
has
led
to
numerous
examples
of
slick,
photogenic
makeovers
of
historic
buildings
that
nevertheless
block
creative
energy
as
places
for
making
art.
157 156 155
These spaces offer a finished surface, leaving the artist little to play with. In a lecture
published
in
Performance
Research
(2005)
Tompkins
spoke
of
the
architects
tendency
to
resolve
everything:
We
architects
have
failed
to
comprehend
the
territory
of
performance,
offering
155 156
David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 Brian Eno, quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.11 157 Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.25
th
57
positivistic,
technology-led
reactions
to
perceived
problems
that
may
not
in
fact
have
needed
solving.
158
The perceived problems that Tompkins describes often lie in the indeterminacy of the
building
or
in
the
case
of
BAC,
the
things
that
dont
belong.
But
it
is
often
upon
these
rough
surfaces
that
the
artistic
imagination
gains
traction.
The
inspiration
occurs
in
the
gap
between
the
original
space
and
its
new
function
that
is
the
liminal
space
which
should
belong
to
artists.
That
is
where
the
artist
finds
freedom
and
a
sense
of
ownership
over
a
space.
If
that
space
is
commandeered
by
architecture,
there
is
the
risk
that
without
its
indeterminacy,
the
theatrical
potential
will
be
neutralised.
Jubb
described
an
artists
reaction
to
a
newly
refurbished
space
in
which
the
architecture
has
been
allowed
to
seep
into
every
crack
or
lull:
what
[did
this
cost],
fifty
or
sixty
production
budgets?
And
for
what?
All
you
have
actually
done
is
make
it
more
difficult
to
make
a
piece
of
work.
When
architecture
is
allowed
to
govern
a
performance
space,
a
number
of
distortions
can
occur.
Firstly,
the
self-effacing,
negative
space
or
blank
canvas.
Although
this
solution
offers
flexibility
(insofar
as
the
technical
capabilities
of
the
space
will
allow),
the
drawback
for
any
organisation
engaged
in
developing
new
work
is
that
the
blank
canvas
can
often
result
in
an
equally
bland
response
from
the
emerging
artist.
Paradoxically,
the
perfectly
designed
blank
canvas
has
no
indeterminacy.
At
the
other
end
of
the
scale,
the
magazine
architecture
160 159
of
design-dominated
161
spaces that dont necessarily function as performance spaces, sacrificing geometry, atmosphere
or
sometimes
both
in
favour
of
the
concept
design.
Both
the
statement
architecture
and
the
blank
canvas
present
the
same
problematic
assumption:
that
a
building
should
be
finished.
The
desire
on
the
part
of
the
architect
to
present
a
perfect
totality
defies
the
essence
of
the
history
of
most
buildings:
those
that
have
survived
tell
stories
of
layers
and
accumulation.
The
race
for
finality
undermines
the
whole
process.
In
reality,
finishing
is
never
finished,
but
the
building
is
designed
and
constructed
with
fiendish
thoroughness
to
deny
that.
162
time
and,
returning
to
the
comparison
between
the
timescales
of
theatre
and
architecture,
it
is
possible
to
see
that
a
focus
on
process
and
long
term
effect
both
in
scratch
and
Playgorunding
reverses
the
prevailing
view.
Barrett
worked
at
BAC
for
two
years
before
developing
a
project
that
changed
the
top
few
millimeters
of
the
buildings
skin
for
seven
months.
In
a
capital
redevelopment
project
the
architect
will
sometimes
engage
with
a
building
for
a
matter
of
months
during
the
design
phase
before
committing
to
works
that
will
alter
the
building
forever.
Financial
imperatives
and
fear
of
being
sued
for
mistakes
drive
the
architect
onto
the
next
project,
but
the
sins
of
the
architect
are
158
Steve Tompkins, Theatre Notes, Paper delivered at Civic Centre Conference, London 2004, Published in Performance Research 2005, p.1 159 Davud Jubb, Recorded conversation, 23.11.2006, BAC archive, p.5 160 Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, Chapter 5 161 Timothy West described geometry and atmosphere as the key theatrical attributes of a space to Prof. Alan Short, quoted in Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue 9, Autumn 2006, p.12 162 Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.64
58
permanent sins.
163
quickly
and
theatre
that
spends
months
and
even
years
preparing
for
a
moment
that
will
live
and
die
almost
simultaneously.
Theatre
may
create
and
destroy
complete
world
visions
in
a
matter
of
moments,
but
architecture
preserves
a
comparatively
static
moment
of
creativity
for
decades,
sometimes
centuries.
It
is
what
Frank
Duffy,
of
DEGW,
called
an
aesthetic
of
timelessness,
which
is
sterile.
He
asks
us
to
consider
What
would
an
aesthetic
based
on
the
inevitability
of
transience
actually
look
like?
A
comparison
was
made
by
Tompkins
in
his
lecture
at
the
Theatres
Trust
conference
on
Experiencing
Theatres,
between
the
work
of
Lina
Bo
Bardi
at
Teatro
Oficina,
and
the
auditorium
of
the
Latin
American
Memorial
campus
by
Oscar
Niemeyer:
Now
sadly
underused
and
reportedly
expensive
to
maintain,
the
building
felt
like
an
exotic
dinosaur,
fossilized
in
a
moment
of
history,
unable
to
adapt
to
changing
circumstances.
Because
it
failed
to
connect
the
gaps
between
civic
ambition,
architectural
single- mindedness,
theatrical
adaptability
and
human
nature,
it
now
looks
iconic
for
all
the
wrong
reasons.
Jubb
also
draws
a
comparison
between
these
two
buildings:
I
would
argue
that
pure,
often
iconic,
singular
visions
can
lead
to
extraordinary
pieces
of
art,
to
stunning
buildings,
that
are
often
also
quite
dysfunctional.
And
that
more
collaborative
processes
that
are
tuned
in
to
the
desires
of
the
people
that
will
use
the
building
lead
to
buildings
that
can
also
be
great
pieces
of
art
but
that
also
function.
A
trip
to
Sao
Paulo
to
see
the
work
on
Niemeyer
versus
Lina
Bo
Bardi
is
testament
to
this.
Playgroundings
approach
to
phasing
can
be
summarised
in
two
key
decisions:
establishing
a
timetable
that
allowed
for
small
feedback-loop-adaptation
to
take
place
and,
within
that
timetable,
prioritising
the
role
of
artists
in
order
to
ensure
that
architectural
decisions
leave
room
for
users
to
determine
the
space.
This
does
not
mean
designing
for
flexibility,
which
many
architects
and
theatre
makers
have
learnt
is
a
mirage
which
in
itself
can
be
extremely
complex
and
therefore
fixed,
it
means
designing
for
change.
It
is
a
lesson
that
it
would
seem
the
architectural
profession
has
unlearnt.
The
Victorians
understood
change
in
a
way
that
we
do
not:
the
town
hall
was
constructed
with
an
incredibly
loose
relationship
between
the
skin
and
the
structure,
allowing
for
the
addition
of
floors,
165 164
163
Frank Lloyd Wright, quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.66 164 Duffy, F., quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p. 71 165 th Tompkins, S., Theatres Trust Conference Paper, delivered 9 June 2009
59
staircases,
mezzanines,
walls
and
doors.
The
only
constant
in
the
town
hall
was
change
itself.
Stewart
Brand
describes
this
as
the
low
road,
using
Building
20
at
MIT
as
the
example:
Like
most
Low
Road
Buildings,
Building
20
was
too
hot
in
the
summer,
too
cold
in
the
winter,
Spartan
in
its
amenities,
often
dirty
and
implacably
ugly.
Whatever
was
the
attraction?...
The
ability
to
personalize
your
space
and
shape
it
to
various
purposes.
If
you
dont
like
a
wall,
just
stick
your
elbow
through
it
if
you
want
to
bore
a
hole
in
the
floor
to
get
a
little
extra
vertical
space,
you
do
it.
You
dont
ask.
Its
the
best
experimental
environment
ever
builtwe
feel
the
space
is
really
ours.
This
is
a
near
accurate
description
of
BAC
and
the
way
artists
and
staff
feel
about
the
building.
The
low
road
building
gives
the
artist
ownership
over
the
space
partly
because
they
can
do
almost
whatever
they
want
and
partly
because
they
are
often
cheap
or
free
to
use
because
they
are
either
architecturally
unappealing,
or
in
the
case
of
BAC,
large
and
situated
far
enough
outside
the
town
centre.
Morris
said
that
as
long
as
there
is
free
space
and
free
beer
on
offer,
attracting
an
artistic
community
is
not
complicated.
167 166
Although BAC was built for a specific purpose, its makers were alive
to
change
because
the
world
was
accelerating
at
an
unprecedented
rate.
Today
we
live
in
a
world
s o
dominated
by
fast-paced
change
that
we
design,
with
little
concern
for
an
unpredictable
future,
buildings
that
refuse
to
adapt
to
alternative
uses.
Tearing
down
and
starting
over
has
not
been
considered
a
major
financial
or
environmental
problem
until
now.
Brand
argues
that
low
road
buildings
have
staying
power
because
they
are
not
over-specified.
Grand,
final-solution
buildings
obsolesce
because
they
were
too
over
specified
to
their
original
purpose
to
adapt
easily
to
anything
else.
168
However BAC has one feature that does not fit into the low road building category. As grade
II* listed, BAC had to square the desire for freedom and adaptability with a responsible approach to conservation.
Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.28 th Tom Morris., in an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.28
60
Conservation
This
level
of
dialogue
between
the
function
(theatre)
and
the
architecture
proposes
an
unconventional
approach
to
history
and
the
accretions
of
time.
Merging
scenography
and
real
architecture
so
that
you
can
decide
what
is
real
and
what
is
not,
as
Tompkins
suggested,
challenges
notions
of
conservation.
Theatre,
in
its
transience,
throws
doubt
on
the
permanence
of
architecture:
what
we
assume
to
be
authentic
in
a
building
(or
permanent)
comes
into
question.
Also,
the
fact
that
BAC
does
not
belong
in
the
town
hall
alters
the
relationship
between
the
fabric
and
the
function.
Unlike
a
building
still
fulfilling
its
original
purpose,
there
is
an
underlying
rupture
between
the
architecture
and
function
which
complicates
decisions
about
the
conservation
of
the
fabric.
BAC
was
listed
as
a
Grade
II*
town
hall,
not
a
Grade
II*
theatre.
Although
it
has
not
always
been
the
case,
English
Heritage
now
recognise
that
supporting
a
buildings
cultural
use
is
a
fundamental
part
of
the
conservation
of
the
fabric
a
buildings
use
is
acknowledged
as
part
its
ongoing
survival.
Tompkins
suggests
that
there
is
an
uninterrogated
assumption
that
the
architect
will
do
something
which
is
kind
of
slippery
and
so
called
contemporary,
offered
in
radical
juxtaposition
to
something
which
is
old,
therefore
implicitly
obsolete
or
no
longer
potent
Instead
he
senses
the
accretion
of
cultural
raw
materials
and
memory,
which
is
precious,
which
is
the
thing
to
be
extrapolated
and
treasured
and
somehow
commandeered
for
artists
to
engage
with.
169
gift of redeveloping old buildings. The challenge is not to simply bracket the history of the building as redundant material or simply an aesthetic prop to your own new invention , something which
the
Levitt
Bernstein
Plans
might
have
done.
What
Tompkins
proposal
like
in
practice
and
whether
he
has
achieved
this
in
the
redevelopment
of
historical
venues
such
as
the
Royal
Court
is
open
to
speculation.
As
BAC
and
Haworth
Tompkins
planned
to
divide
the
work
into
a
series
of
smaller
stages
they
had
to
think
about
how
this
process
would
work
for
English
Heritage.
They
decided
to
pro-actively
produce
a
Conservation
Management
Plan
that
outlined
a
strategy
for
the
future,
describing
how
they
intended
to
engage
with
the
building
over
the
course
of
a
decade.
Conservation
Management
Plans
are
often
used
at
complex
sites
as
an
informal
memorandum
of
understanding
between
owners,
managers
and
English
Heritage.
171
works that require listed building consent. Although they have no statutory basis, they are a mutual agreement between the owner and English Heritage a statement of intent. Writing a Conservation Management Plan was part of winning the overall, philosophical, strategic battle of intent, of
169 170
Steve Tompkins, interviewed at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 2009 th Steve Tompkins, interviewed at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 2009 171 www.heritagelink.org.uk/docs/HPR_update_HPAs.doc, accessed on 15.08.2009
th
61
ideas.
172
After reading the initial draft of the plan, touring the building to assess the sensitivity
analysis drawings and discussing the impact of Playgrounding on conservation issues, English Heritage suggested BAC should be put forward for the Heritage Partnership Agreement pilot programme. Playgroundings decision to phase all the works over a longer period of time would usually mean a large number of low-level Listed Building Consent Applications. An HPA would formalise the understanding of the Conservation Management Plan, giving BAC the freedom to pursue their capital plans within pre-agreed boundaries, as defined by the sensitivity analysis drawings. These drawings evaluate the architectural sensitivity of each area of the building by colour coding (fig.61). The colour coding translates into an agreement: green areas can be altered without Listed Building Consent, red areas will require it, blue areas will depend on the type of works. English Heritage felt that BACs intent towards the building, through Playgrounding, was to progress with the utmost care and sensitivity towards the integrity of the architectural fabric. Although it wanted freedom to mess around, it had formed a collaborative relationship with the fabric. It did not want to impose the new function onto the architecture, it wanted to merge with it. To date the Conservation Management Plan remains the key document defining the relationship with English Heritage as further funding is being sought to set up an HPA pilot at BAC.
172
Steve Tompkins, notes taken by the author in a design team meeting, 1.04.2008
62
Funding
The
Plan
of
Work
was
written
to
regulate
the
design
process.
It
now
also
regulates,
at
arms
length,
funding
procedures.
Major
funding
bodies
usually
require
a
project
to
reach
a
minimum
of
stage
C
(outline
design)
to
begin
conversations
and
stage
D
(detailed
design)
as
a
gateway
for
securing
funds.
Stages
A
(appraisal),
B
(briefing)
and
C
are
therefore
funded
by
the
client
up
front.
One
of
the
major
challenges
arts
organisations
face
in
beginning
a
successful
capital
project
is
therefore
adequately
funding
the
early
design
phases.
Arts
organisations
tend
to
operate
on
minimal
revenues
and
often
struggle
with
cash
flowing
the
early
stages
of
a
project.
Architecture
and
theatre
operate
on
very
different
scales
financially
and
it
can
be
painful
for
an
organisation
to
watch
an
entire
shows
budget
evaporate
in
an
afternoon
of
discussions
around
a
table.
Stages
A
through
C
are
therefore
frequently
rushed
in
order
to
arrive
in
the
position
to
secure
the
larger
grants
necessary
to
fund
capital
works.
Lack
of
ready
funds,
coupled
with
the
inevitable
inexperience
of
the
client
can
lead
to
a
design
that
has
possibly
not
been
thoroughly
examined
before
being
finalised.
It
can
also
mean,
as
Prof.
Short
has
pointed
out,
that
arts
organisations
fail
to
hire
the
necessary
specialist
consultants
until
after
the
design
and
budgets
have
been
fixed.
The
DeDEPA
study
looked
in
particular
at
the
consequences
of
value
engineering
on
projects
in
which
the
design
and
budget
were
fixed
from
an
early
stage,
before
specialist
consultants
could
be
hired:
Given
the
complexity
of
theatre
design
and
equipment,
projected
costs
can
therefore
rise
significantly
as
consultants
work
with
the
architect
to
make
a
viable
design.
173
Value engineering
sessions
are
then
necessary
to
scale
back
the
project
to
meet
the
original
budget
parameters.
The
study
noted
how
this
process
often
resulted
in
the
loss
of
original
vision.
174
Funders should
therefore
be
encouraged
to
invest
in
process,
the
ideas
phase
of
a
project,
before
an
outcome
has
been
established.
But
process
is
intangible
and
if
the
architect
and
client
are
clear
sighted,
the
best
result
of
the
design
process
might
be
no
architecture.
Architecture
may
not
be
the
answer
to
that
organisations
problems,
but
no
architecture
is
not
a
particularly
attractive
prospect
for
a
funder.
Recent
discussions
at
the
Arts
Council
have
questioned
the
wisdom
of
having
a
Capital
Strategy,
as
this
has
the
potential
to
encourage
organisations
to
apply
for
grants
to
carry
out
works
that
have
not
developed
organically
through
their
use
of
the
building,
or
to
skew
the
scope
or
focus
of
those
plans
(as
with
the
Levitt
Bernstein
application).
It
is
possible
to
suggest
that
funding
a
project
that,
due
to
financial
constraints,
has
not
been
through
a
considered
development
process
is
irresponsible
and
therefore
also
interesting
to
consider
whether
the
funding
of
projects
solely
from
stage
D
onwards
is
even
ethical.
Perhaps,
taking
the
financial
and
environmental
responsibilities
of
those
responsible
capital
projects
into
consideration,
funders
should
be
required
to
provide
a
percentage
of
up-front
173 174
Short, A., Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue9, Autumn 2006, p.10 Short, A., Designing Dynamic Environments for the Performing Arts, Theatres, Issue9, Autumn 2006, p.10
63
funding
for
research,
appraisal,
briefing
and
outline
design.
BAC
decided
to
pump-prime
the
design
phase,
preparing
themselves
to
spend
a
large
chunk
of
their
budget
up
front.
As
an
organisation
known
for
its
focus
on
process
and
new
work,
it
was
also
able
to
attract
funding
for
research
into
Playgrounding
as
a
process,
as
well
as
the
earliest
design
stages
of
the
project.
The
second
financial
consideration
are
the
architects
and
design
teams
fees.
In
the
initial
design
phases
of
a
project
these
are
paid
on
a
taxi
metre
basis.
Once
the
scope
of
the
project
has
been
established,
they
are
paid
as
a
percentage
of
the
overall
cost
of
the
project.
The
cost
difference
of
taxi-metre
to
percentage
fees
is
as
the
difference
between
hailing
a
black
cab
in
Oxford
Circus
and
asking
them
to
drive
you
to
Heathrow
and
pre-booking
a
local
airport
service
with
a
fixed
rate.
Once
the
project
budget
is
fixed,
i.e.
they
know
the
client
is
in
for
the
long
haul,
the
architect
becomes
cheaper.
However
this
system
makes
an
important
assumption:
as
soon
as
the
design
phase
is
over,
everyone
knows
how
much
architecture
is
going
to
be
delivered.
Everyone
knows
if
it
is
a
10
million
project
or
a
30
million
project.
However
if
you
have
broken
down
the
phases
so
that
lessons
can
be
learnt
and
fed
back
into
a
later
phase,
that
final
figure
has
to
remain
at
least
nominally
vague,
because
some
phases
may
be
drastically
rethought.
BAC
therefore
decided
to
keep
the
design
team
on
a
taxi-metre
basis,
within
an
agreed
set
of
expectations
and
parameters,
defined
by
an
annual
budget
to
maintain
the
core
project
management
team
dialogue.
Fee
arrangements
for
specific
projects
would
be
negotiated
as
they
arose.
This
proposes
a
number
of
discomforts
to
the
architect:
an
undefined
period
of
engagement
with
a
building,
an
undefined
amount
of
architecture
as
a
result
and
therefore
an
undefined
fee.
It
is
also
much
more
costly
to
the
client
organisation
in
the
short
term.
On
the
other
hand,
it
offers
architects
something
which
fixed
budgets
otherwise
deny:
the
opportunity
to
change
their
mind.
All
artists
change
their
mind.
Making
mistakes
is
at
the
heart
of
the
creative
process.
Architects
are
artists
and
design
is
a
creative
process.
Architects
change
their
minds,
but
because
they
are
professionals
expensive
professionals
they
have
to
pretend
that
they
dont.
Once
the
design
has
been
signed
off,
the
idea
almost
ceases
to
matter:
It
is
history
and
it
can
never
be
changed
and
that
idea
has
been
paid
for
with
good
money
so
you
never
say
you
know
that
idea
you
paid
for?
It
turns
out
it
was
rubbish
and
heres
a
better
idea.
In
most
circumstances
thats
embarrassing.
But
with
Playgrounding,
its
like
how
fantastic,
now
weve
had
another
idea
and
so
its
making
concrete
what
most
artists
go
through
anyway.
Tompkins
describes
how
architects
have
to
pretend
that
they
dont
go
through
a
process
of
changing
their
minds
because
were
infallible
professionals
and
were
expensive
infallible
professionals
more
175
175
th
64
to
the
point,
so
the
room
for
what
would
otherwise
be
seen
as
error
is
miniscule
and
if
you
want
to
change
your
mind
you
have
to
do
it
by
subterfuge
The
design
is
changed
because
the
circumstances
have
changed
or
for
health
and
safety
reasons,
not
because
architects
are
artists
and
they
have
therefore
had
a
better
idea
than
their
first
idea.
Alexander
describes
this:
Architects
are
supposed
to
be
good
visualisers,
and
we
are,
but
still,
most
of
the
time
were
wrong.
Even
when
you
build
the
thing
yourself
and
you
are
doing
well,
you
are
still
making
nine
mistakes
for
every
success.
177 176
mistakes,
and
correct
them
and
get
feedback,
the
more
intelligently
the
design
will
develop.
Jubb
and
Tompkins
established
a
relationship
based
on
an
artistic
collaboration.
Jubb
wrote
I
dont
want
to
work
with
anyone
who
knows
exactly
what
theyre
doing
all
the
time,
what
would
be
the
point
of
collaborating
with
someone
where
there
was
no
risk
involved?
Youd
know
the
outcome
before
you
started.
178
Knowing the outcome before you start, knowing exactly how you are going to get there
and how much it is going to cost, is the whole point of the Plan of Work.
176 177
Steve Tompkins, interviewed at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 2009 Alexander, C., quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.63 178 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 20099
th
65
Liability
The
Plan
of
Work
is
also
embedded
in
the
legal
framework
of
a
project.
The
process
of
signing
off
at
the
end
of
each
stage
is
partly
designed
to
protect
one
party
from
another
and
ensure
liability
is
clearly
carried.
179
bodies
responsibilities
and
liabilities.
Jubb
argues
that
this
structure
encourages
the
passivity
of
the
client,
because
it
actively
promotes
the
role
of
the
expert
as
liability
is
deferred
to
expertise.
This
gives
the
architect
complete
control
over
the
project
but
also
encourges
them
towards
locking
every
aspect
of
the
design
down
and
finishing
every
detail.
Because
if
the
client
has
had
no
role
in
its
development,
they
will
struggle
to
take
part
in
its
completion.
I
think
the
danger
is
that
collective
responsibility
is
diminished.
180
phasing
of
a
project
have
to
be
rethought
but
the
liability
has
to
be
restructured
to
encourage
a
more
long
term,
collaborative
relationship
between
the
architect
and
the
building.
Collaboration
is
challenging
in
an
environment
in
which
liability
is
paramount.
Playgroundings
challenge
to
the
Plan
of
Work
in
terms
of
liability
is
the
breaking
down
of
the
architect
/
client
relationship.
BACs
Space
Team
is
made
up
of
members
of
staff
who
engage
with
the
building:
the
Head
of
Production
and
Premises,
the
Artistic
Director,
the
Chief
Executive
who
manages
the
capital
budgets
and
various
other
maintenance
and
technical
staff.
BAC
and
Haworth
Tompkins
agreed
that,
in
honour
of
the
collaboration,
there
would
always
be
a
BAC
presence
in
design
team
meetings.
This
has
proved
challenging
for
members
of
the
design
team
who
are
not
used
to
having
the
client
present
throughout
a
process.
It
shifts
the
usual
balance
of
power
in
the
room.
The
client
is
normally
invited
to
presentation
meetings,
not
to
witness
the
nitty
gritty
moments
when
not
everyone
is
agreeing
or
delivering.
Playgroundings
phased
approach
meant
that
a
large
amount
of
the
works
could
be
carried
out
without
the
help
of
the
design
team.
This
realisation
did
not
come
immediately.
In
a
design
team
meeting
for
a
production
in
the
Grand
Hall,
Tompkins
described
the
management
structure
as
akin
to
using
a
sledge
hammer
to
crack
a
nut.
Whilst
ideas
were
still
in
their
early
phases
they
could
mostly
be
managed
by
BACs
own
in-house
team,
but
the
issue
of
liability
then
becomes
more
complicated.
If
it
was
Haworth
Tompkins
design,
being
carried
out
by
a
contractor,
under
the
supervision
of
BAC
staff
who
is
liable
if
something
goes
wrong?
BAC
and
Haworth
Tompkins
realised
that
in
order
to
make
the
collaboration
a
reality
they
had
to
go
one
step
further.
Firstly,
they
could
not
function
as
two
separate
teams,
watching
over
each
others
work.
Everyone
in
the
core
project
management
team,
including
consultants,
would
signalled
their
179 180
David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009 th David Jubb (davidj@bac.org.uk), in and email to the author (amg52@cam.ac.uk), Questions for David Jubb, July 12 2009
th
66
collaborative
approach
by
becoming
members
of
the
Space
Team.
Jubb
wanted
to
stop
using
other
terms
that
describe
a
more
formulaic
relationship
such
as
design
team,
architect
&
client.
182 181
The
second
decision
was
to
put
in
place
a
project
management
structure
with
much
more
regular
meetings
between
the
three
key
levels
of
management:
Artistic
Director
and
Lead
Architect
(David
Jubb
and
Steve
Tompkins)
Chief
Executive
and
QS
or
Financial
Director
(Rosie
Hunter
and
Lindsay
Cornock
/
Toby
Johnson)
Head
of
Production
and
Premises
and
Associate
Architect
or
Lead
Providing
management
for
the
project
Contractor
(Richard
Couldrey
and
Joanna
Sutherland)
Regular
meetings
between
these
three
key
parties
will
mean
that
the
gears
wont
graunch
when
it
comes
to
starting
up
a
project,
because
ongoing
project
management
dialogue
will
have
shaped
appropriate
project
teams,
timescales
and
resources
around
evolving
ideas.
183
under way, specific project teams would be put together depending on the kind of work taking place. These collaborators would include the artists, design consultants, BAC staff, licensing officers or building contractors. In the next step, the Space Team will begin to explore how liabilities can be shared between them. Conscious of the high stakes of their collaboration, Tompkins and Jubb have begun to look at how this can be achieved. As this dissertation goes to print, BACs board are considering the ramifications of taking on the liability for the capital project.
181 182
David Jubb, notes from meeting with Steve Tompkins, Swaines Lane, 6 July 2009 th The diagram is derived from David Jubbs notes from meeting with Steve Tompkins, Swaines Lane, 6 July 2009 183 th David Jubb, notes from meeting with Steve Tompkins, Swaines Lane, 6 July 2009
th
67
Conclusion
One
of
the
things
which
we
are
searching
for
is
a
form
of
architecture
which,
unlike
classical
architecture,
is
not
perfect
and
finite
upon
completion
we
are
looking
for
an
architecture
rather
like
some
music
and
poetry
which
can
actually
be
changed
by
the
users,
an
architecture
of
improvisation.
Improvisation
is
at
the
core
of
the
creative
process:
it
is
playful,
messy,
evolving
and
delights
in
the
unknown.
Any
rehearsal
process,
whether
text-based
or
devised,
relies
to
a
certain
extent
on
asking
questions
which
are
never
conclusively
answered.
There
is,
for
example,
no
once-and-for-all
interpretation
of
The
Cherry
Orchard.
Every
good
production
of
The
Cherry
Orchard
is
good
for
different
reasons
and
the
same
goes
for
the
bad.
Finding
creative
answers
requires
improvisation
which
is,
above
all,
risky.
The
creative
process
is
risky.
Mistakes
are
not
only
inevitable,
but
a
vital
part
of
the
journey.
In
order
to
design
spaces
for
the
performing
arts
that
are
responsive
to
the
users
of
the
space,
the
established
architectural
process
and
its
related
structures
must
evolve
to
encourage
risk
and
manage
it
creatively,
rather
than
attempt
to
minimise
it.
The
Playgrounding
process
enables
architectural
work
based
on
improvisation
by
creating
a
framework
around
it
founded
on
collaboration
and
taking
time.
Collaboration
encourages
shared
responsibility
for
the
process
and
the
outcome,
which
means
that
taking
risks
and
making
mistakes
becomes
legally
viable.
A
collaboration
places
the
creative
input
of
artists,
including
the
architect,
at
the
heart
of
the
process.
When
those
artists
are
allowed
to
take
risks
and
learn
from
the
layers
created
by
each
other,
this
results
in
spaces
that
develop
organically,
in
response
to
the
needs
of
the
organisation
and
that
ultimately
reflect
the
vision
of
the
users.
Placing
artists
at
the
centre
of
a
process
also
enables
the
individual
creativity
of
the
wider
team.
Everyone
is
challenged
to
be
proactive
and
take
responsibility,
using
their
expertise
to
find
creative
solutions.
Finally,
collaboration
levels
the
playing
field
for
inexperienced
members
of
the
design
team:
the
user
who
may
not
know
what
their
needs
are
or
how
to
express
them
in
architectural
terms,
empowering
them
to
navigate
the
architectural
process,
and
the
architect
who
may
not
know
what
demands
working
in
an
arts
environment
will
place
on
their
creativity.
The
scratch
process
supports
taking
time
by
dividing
prolonged
creative
development
into
a
series
of
shorter
phases,
each
of
which
has
a
tangible
outcome
shared
with
a
wider
audience
in
order
to
receive
feedback
that
will
inform
the
following
phase.
The
phased
approach
makes
risk-taking
financially
feasible
as
mistakes
are
made
in
the
earlier,
scratch
phases.
This
method
of
prototyping
means
that
ideas
are
tested
in
the
ephemera
of
theatre
before
being
committed
to
in
the
184
184
Sir Richard Rogers, quoted by Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p.71
68
permanence
of
architecture,
minimising
the
risk
of
committing
to
large-scale,
permanent
ideas
that
have
not
been
thoroughly
explored
and
understood.
Incorporating
risk
in
the
short
term
might
make
a
significant
contribution
towards
securing
long
term
success.
By
creating
a
permeable
process
of
feedback
in
which
design
is
ongoing,
the
value
of
delivering
a
finished
building
is
brought
into
question.
Near
the
outset
of
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
Tompkins
envisaged
a
process
that
would
test
our
growing
conviction
that
the
most
effective
and
sustainable
theatre
architecture
is
essentially
provisional,
representing
the
complex
now
and
capable
of
absorbing
accumulated
layers
of
performance.
185
architectural
profession
can
no
longer
afford
to
design
buildings
that
prioritise
preserving
a
static
moment
of
creativity
at
the
expense
of
future
users
and
in
denial
of
the
inevitability
of
change.
In
On
Not
Building
for
Posterity
Michael
Elliot
made
an
impassioned
call
against
bequeathing
to
the
next
generation
of
artists
our
concrete
visions
of
what
theatre
should
be.
Architecture
witnessed
the
failure
of
the
great
modern
architects
to
design
performance
spaces
as
their
inbred
urge
towards
resolution
and
permanence
were
at
odds
with
theatre,
which
continues
to
thrive
on
indeterminacy
and
possibility.
186
evolving needs of theatre it has, in many cases, pursued flexibility. But standing on the platform at Clapham Junction, Axel Burroughs parting words were flexibility was nothing but a mirage, a
lesson
both
theatre
and
architecture
are
learning
at
great
expense.
Tompkins
proposed
that
we
are
in
an
in-between
moment
in
which
we
have
fallen
out
of
love
with
the
negative
space
of
the
black
box,
but
have
yet
to
find
the
new
orthodoxy
of
theatre
space.
He
suggested
that
if
architects
are
really
to
be
of
use
in
the
creation
of
theatre
spaces,
we
will
have
to
open
ourselves
to
unfamiliar
ways
of
working.
188
Playgrounding does not suggest a new kind of theatre architecture that encompasses
all
the
paradoxical
characteristics
of
a
performance
space
with
aura,
it
proposes
a
process
that
may
enable
artists
and
a
willing
architect
to
discover
the
kind
of
space
they
need
and
carry
the
specificity
of
that
vision
through
to
completion.
A
dynamic
completion,
built
not
for
flexibility
but
for
change,
a
space
that
empowers
future
users
to
complete
it,
commandeer
it,
alter
it.
Brand
writes
that
a
conversation
about
designing
for
transience
in
architecture
will
be
difficult
because
it
is
fundamental.
The
transition
from
image
architecture
to
process
architecture
is
a
leap
from
the
certainties
of
controllable
things
in
space
to
the
self-organizing
complexities
of
an
endlessly
ravelling
and
unravelling
skein
of
relationships
over
time.
189
185 186
Steve Tompkins, Fuzzy Logic, Preliminary Report, Haworth Tompkins Architects, July 2007, p.9 Steve Tompkins and Andrew Todd, Theatre Notes: Paper delivered at Civic Centre Conference, London 2004 and published in Performance Research, 2005 187 th Axel Burrough, interviewed at Battersea Arts Centre, 8 June 2009 188 Steve Tompkins and Andrew Todd, Theatre Notes: Paper delivered at Civic Centre Conference, London 2004 and published in Performance Research, 2005 189 Brand, S., How Buildings Learn: What happens after theyre built, Phoenix Illustrated, London 1997, p. 71
69
Theatre
must
also
rethink
its
demanding,
over-specified
approach
to
architecture.
Not
only
should
a
building
be
expected
to
adapt
to
new
functions,
a
function,
even
one
as
specific
as
theatre,
should
adapt
to
a
building.
By
not
attempting
to
impose
the
standard
expectations
of
theatre
configuration
onto
an
adapted
space,
both
architects
and
theatre
makers
will
be
forced
to
step
outside
the
orthodoxies
of
their
form,
conceivably
to
challenge
the
limits
of
what
we
now
recognise
as
theatre
space.
Perhaps
the
new
orthodoxy
of
theatre
space
is
not
one
of
form
or
style,
but
of
process.
As
Bo
Bardi
said,
The
Oficina
is
not
the
portal
to
Cologne
Cathedral,
but
it
is
an
important
milestone
along
a
difficult
road.
190
190
Bo Bardi, L., Lina Bo Bardi, Instituto Lina Bo e P.M. Bardi, Sao Paulo 2008 (3 Ed.), p.258
rd
70
Interviews
Conducted
Tom
Morris,
interviewed
at
the
National
Theatre
Studio,
4
June
2009
Axel
Burrough,
interviewed
at
Battersea
Arts
Centre,
8
June
2009
David
Jubb,
interviewed
at
his
home
in
Muswell
Hill,
23
February
2009,
and
answered
questions
by
email,
12
July
2009
David
Micklem,
interviewed
at
Battersea
Arts
Centre,
19
June
2009
Jude
Kelly,
interviewed
at
the
South
Bank
Centre,
9
July
2009
Steve
Tompkins,
interviewed
at
his
home
in
Hampstead,
19
June
2009
I
have
also
drawn
upon
conversations
with
David
Lan,
(October
2008),
Anthony
Roberts
(at
Colchester
Arts
Centre,
13
July
2009),
Lyn
Gardner
(in
Suffolk,
17
July
2009)
and
Dalibor
Vessely
(at
his
home
in
Finchley,
2
August
2009)
and
on
transcripts
from
the
Theatres
Trust
Conference,
9
June
2009.
nd th th th th th th th rd th th
71
Bibliographic and Archival Sources 1. London, Battersea History Library MISC. File 725.13 BATT: Miscellaneous clippings and images relating to Battersea Town Hall & Battersea Arts Centre 792.SHA: Clippings and images of Shakespeare Theatre, Lavender Hill 421.BATT(R3): Battersea Vestry reports and local maps 920.BURN: Scrap collection on Battersea MP John Burns (1858 1943) 92.DESP: Scrap collection Charlotte Despard, Battersea Suffragette Unlisted plans of the building, 1896 1974 Archive of local newspapers, in particular South Western Star, Wandsworth Borough News, South London Press, Wandsworth Comet, Clapham and Balham News and Putney News London, Battersea Arts Centre Uncatalogued files relating to the history of the organisation: annual reports, brochures, letters, board minutes, images Online archive of files and images relating to the current capital programme London, The Theatres Trust Uncatalogued archive of press clippings and images: Shakespeare Theatre, London Battersea Arts Centre, London Young Vic Theatre, London Royal Court Theatre, London London, Victoria and Albert Museum Theatre Collection, Blyth House, Olympia Recording of Royal Court Diaries, BBC Omnibus, 1997 2. Published Material a. Anonymous Periodical articles Public Archive Sources
Fears for future of borough arts centre, South Western Star, 9.12.77, 1 Gordon Craigs stage settings: designs which depend upon elements of architecture, Architect and Building News 120 (1928), 299-301 New City theatre and concert hall, Malm, Architect and Building News 182, 1945, 40-44 Play it again, Building Design Supplement, January 199, 8-9 Wohnwelt, Wohnumwelt, Bauen & Wohnen 28, 1974, 139-147
72
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Centre
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all
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1977,
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of
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of
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-
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South
London
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30
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1979,
P.6
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artistic
director
accuses
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and
claims
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to
Gerry
Adams',
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News,
16
December
1994,
P.2
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archives
handed
to
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3th
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1993,
P.1
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deny
cut
is
linked
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West
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News,
23
September
1994,
P.5
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BAC
give
value
for
money?',
South
London
Press,
25
November
1977,
P.6
English
Heritage,
Theatres:
a
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'Foyer
glass
dome
renovation
60,000',
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News,
5
December
1997,
P.8
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from
Wandsworth
Borough
Council',
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Borough
News,
29
March
1985,
P.16
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to
expand,
involves
locals',
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London
Press,
18
January
1985,
P.17
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future
of
Borough
arts
centre',
South
Western
Star,
9
December
1977,
P.1
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plan
for
arts
centre',
South
Western
Star,
23
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1977,
P.45
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have
to
make
cuts
be
of
reduced
grant',
South
London
Press,
22
March
1992,
P.14
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collected
for
centenary',
South
London
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13
August
1993,
P.22
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main
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London
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10
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1995,
P.31
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10
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P.4
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over
closure
official
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raising
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Borough
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26
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P.1
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Receives
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22
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1998,
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Receives
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from
lottery
fund',
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London
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7
April
1992,
Local
section
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'BAC
Receives
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for
minor
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and
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for
5
million
development',
West
Borough
News,
18
October
1996,
P.1+19
'BAC
Receives
second
sum
of
lottery
money
and
council
ten
year
rate',
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Borough
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12
September
1997,
P.2
'BAC
Spending
270,000
on
improvements',
South
London
Press,
25
October
1996,
P.44
'Story
Reactions
against
play
by
Gerry
Adams',
West
borough,
3
June
1994,
P.1
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die
in
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street
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6
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1998,
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is
listed',
Clapham
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5
June
1970,
P.1
Man
with
a
plan
for
Arts
Centre,
South
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23.9.77,
45
Art
Centre
is
for
all
borough,
Wandsworth
Borough
News,
25.9.77,
6
'Modernised
BAC
re-opens',
South
London
Press,
25
November
1977,
P.6
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Teatro
Oficina,
accessed
repeatedly
from
January
June
2009
at
http://teatroficina.uol.com.br
Battersea
local
history
documents
and
images
accessed
repeatedly
from
October
2008
to
September
2009
athttp://www.wandsworth.gov.uk/info/200064/local_history_and_heritage
Punchdrunk
theatre
company
backgroung
information
accessed
on
28.05.2009
at
http://www.punchdrunk.org.uk/about.htm
Costa
Meyer,
E.
de,
After
the
Flood:
Lina
Bo
Bardis
Glass
House,
Harvard
Design
Magazine,
N.16,
Winter/Spring
2002
(downloaded
from
http://www.gsd.harvard.edu/research/publications/hdm/back/16decosta_meyer.html)
Heritage
Partnership
Agreement
update
accessed
on
15.08.2009
at
www.heritagelink.org.uk/docs/HPR_update_HPAs.doc
Project
details
for
Young
Vic
Theatre,
accessed
on
2.09.2009
at
http://www.designbuild- network.com/projects/young-vic/
th th
81
Appendix
1. Biography
of
E.W.
Mountford,
by
A.S.
Gray,
Edwardian
Architecture:
A
Biographical
Dictionary
(1985)
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
Questions
answered
by
David
Jubb,
in
an
email,
12
July
2009
th
Transcript
of
walk
round
for
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death
with
David
Jubb,
Steve
Tompkins
and
Felix
Barrett,
Battersea
Arts
Centre
archive,
23
November
2006
Transcript
of
interview
with
Axel
Burrough,
Battersea
Arts
Centre,
8
June
2009
th th rd
Transcript
of
interview
with
Jude
Kelly,
South
Bank
Centre,
9
July
2009
th
Transcript
of
interview
with
David
Micklem,
Battersea
Arts
Centre,
19
June
2009
Transcript
of
interview
with
Steve
Tompkins,
at
his
home
in
Hampstead,
19
June
2009
th
82
Appendix 1 Biography of E.W. Mountford A.S. Gray, Edwardian Architecture: A Biographical Dictionary (1985), also printed in Battersea Arts Centre Conservation Management Plan, 2007 Mountford, Edward William 1855-1908 E.W. Mountford was born in 1855 in Warwickshire, he began his architectural career as a clerk of works fofr St. Stephens, Hounslow in 1871 for Habershon and Pite of Bloomsbury Square, London. In 1876 he became principal assistant to Pery Elkington and Sons and in 1879 to Giles and Gough. The following year he set up his own practice on his own account. His early work consisted largely of churches, church schools and rectories, many of them in Wandsworth. In 1888 Mountford did his first public building, the Battersea Library, Lavender Hill, SW11 choosing the Early French Renaissance style, introduce by T.E. Collcutt eleven years earlier in Wakdefiled Town Hall. Much of Mountfords subsequent work was in the field of town halls, municipal buildings, technical colleges and schools, many of them won in competitions. His first major success was Sheffield Town Hall (1890-94), again in Early French Renaissance style. This was followed by Battersea Town Hall on Lavender Hill, in the same style. In 1900, with the Hitchin architect Geoffrey Lucas, Mountford won the competition for the small Hitchin Town Hall. In 1907, on quite a different scale, he won the splendid Lancaster town Hall the gift of the linoleum manufacturer Lord Ashton, who had given Williamson Park to the town, this was a palace of splendid proportions, all correctly early Georgian and reviving the style of James GibbsL the interior was eaually grand and the whole was built by the Waring Whit Co., a subsidiary of Waring & Gillow of Lancaster and London (Bldr, 9.11.07) Mountfords first technical institute was the Wrennaissance style Battersea Polytechnic, Battersea Park Road, SW11, built in 891 on part of the site previously occupied by the Albert Palace a second hand iron building transferred to Battersea from the Dublin Exhibition of 1872 and opened as a concert hall and picture gallery by the speculator Baron Grant (the venture failed after a year, and the building was pulled down in 1894). In 1896 Mountford won the competition for Northampton Institute (now City University) on the estate of the Earl of Northampton, St John St., EC1. This is in a Free-Classic style, somewhat French in flavour. Mountford also designed the College of Technology and Museum Extension,
83
Byrom Street, Liverpool, giving the faade paired columns, one square, one round swathed in rustications and flanking wide pedimented niches which are surmounted by figures in Michelangelesque poses (Bldr, 11.1.02). Among his buildings, the block of offices for Booths distillery in Turnmill Street, Smithfield, EC! (Bldr, 17.8.01 was of exceptional quality.
84
Appendix 2 English Heritage Listing, 1970, Battersea History Library, 725.13BATT LB UID --------- 207065 BUILDING NAME -------------------- BATTERSEA COMMUNITY ARTS CENTRE LIST_ENTRY_DESCRIPTION -------------------- LAVENDER HILL SW11 1.5033 Battersea Community Arts Centre (Formerly listed as the former Battersea Town Hall with offices and public assembly hall) TQ 2775 9/4 13.2.70 II*2 1892, by E.W. Mountford Large, detached building. Front block in free classical style, Red brick and brown stone with high, pantiled roof. Main faade ambitiously treated with Ionic columns, 3 shaped pediments and figure sculpture. Inerior contains fine marble staircase with arcaded gallery on 3 sides. Good council chamber with arched ceiling. Offices plainly treated but of considerable merit externally. Assembly hall and vestibule also of interest. Listing NGR: tq2785475640
85
Appendix
3
Timeline
of
Battersea
Town
Hall
/
Battersea
Arts
Centre1801
to
2001
1801
1835
Municipal
Reform
Act
abolishes
property-based
voting
scale
(introduced
in
1818
by
the
Sturges
Bourne
Act:
a
scale
of
voting,
allowing
ratepayers
between
one
and
six
cotes
depending
on
the
value
of
their
property.)
Establishment
of
178
incorporated
boroughs
governed
by
elected
councils
(instead
of
closed
corporations).
Towns
could
apply
to
be
incorporated
but
as
the
process
was
expensive
and
complicated
many
did
not,
and
although
it
granted
equal
votes
to
all
ratepayers
it
generally
favoured
the
middle
classes,
as
few
working
men
were
wealthy
enough
to
be
ratepayers.
Some
saw
incorporation
as
an
attempt
to
reinforce
economic
dominance
with
political
authority,
cloaked
in
democracy
and
universal
suffrage.
They
feared
that
the
wealthy
manufacturers
who
already
held
social
and
economic
sway
would
gain
further
control
over
the
working
class
essentially
raising
up
a
new
aristocracy:
turtle-fed
aldermen
and
cotton
lord
mayors.
The
City
of
London
however
defended
itself
against
these
reforms
longer
than
the
rest
of
the
country
and
remained
an
abyss
'of
Parish
Vestries,
Boards
of
Improvement
Commissions,
Boards
of
Guardians',
-
totalling
over
two
hundred
different
governing
bodies.
1855
Metropolis
Management
Act
formalises
local
government
into
distinct
Parish
Vestries
and
Boards
of
Works.
Civil
responsibilities
of
the
parish
are
passed
to
the
newly
formed
Metropolitan
Board
of
Works.
The
Parish
of
Battersea
is
therefore
no
longer
an
authority
in
its
own
right
but
is
governed
by
Wandsworth
Board
of
Works.
1858
Vestry
of
Battersea
build
Lammas
Hall
with
funds
awarded
to
them
by
the
government
as
compensation
for
the
loss
of
grazing
rights
in
the
newly
established
Battersea
Park.
Having
just
lost
their
control
as
a
Parish,
perhaps
this
was
an
attempt
to
mark
out
a
political
territory
distinct
from
Wandsworth.
1861
Population
of
Battersea:
19,600
191
191
86
1863 1864
Nassau
Seniors
move
to
Elm
House
on
Lavender
Hill,
later
to
become
the
site
for
the
town
hall:
The
house
had
several
great
English
elms
in
front
of
it;
when
the
family
moved
there
it
was
surrounded
by
fields,
though
during
the
next
ten
years
the
city
crept
rapidly
around
it[the
house
was]
square
and
deep,
with
a
garden
at
the
back
and
pasture
for
a
couple
of
cows
Lawns
ran
to
the
distant
boundary,
while
beyond
lay
a
faraway
horizon.
It
was
not
the
sea
that
one
saw
spreading
before
ones
eyes,
but
the
vast
plateau
of
London,
with
its
drifting
vapours
and
its
ripple
of
housetops
flowing
to
the
meet
the
sky-line.
192
1871
Population
of
Battersea:
c.54,000
1878
New
building
is
proposed
to
replace
Lammas
Hall,
with
a
hall
capacity
of
1,000.
Scheme
is
abandoned.
1882
1884
1886
Second
scheme
also
abandoned
Population
of
Battersea:
just
over
100,000
Progressives
gain
control
of
Battersea
vestry:
a
shifting
alliance
of
trade
unionists,
socialists,
radicals,
liberals
and
temperance
and
Free
Church
activists
governed
Battersea
first
in
the
vestry,
then
in
the
council.
194 193
Second building proposed for 10,000, half the amount of the 1878 scheme
the Labour Party, which apart from a three year gap in the 1930s retained control until Battersea Borough ceased to exist. 1888 Local Government Act reconstitutes the areas of the Metropolitan Board of Works as the County of London. Battersea becomes a schedule A Parish, meaning it is large enough to merit its own local government. The Vestry move from Lammas Hall to offices on Battersea Rise and begin looking for a site for the new town hall. New Baptist Chapel on Northcote Road in Battersea opens, designed by E.W. Mountford
192
Thackeray, Anne, In my Ladys Chamber, quoted by Dorothea M. Hughes in Memoir of Jane Elizabeth Senior, G.H. Ellis, Boston, 1916, p.85 193 Cunningham, C., Victorian and Edwardian Town Halls, London, Boston and Henley, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1981, Timeline of Town Halls in the Appendix 194 Loobey, Patrick, Battersea Past, Historical Publications, London 2002, p.129
87
1889
Charles Booths survey of London divides the population into eight strands based on earnings. Battersea is predominantly a suburb of the skilled working class (38%): workmen in manufacturing and transport, clerks, shop workers and domestic servants. Highly Paid Artisan (19%) is the next largest group. Political focus is naturally trained towards the conditions of the working class: wages, working hours, transport, the formation of unions.
John Burns becomes the representative for Battersea on London City Council. Burns leads the Dockers Strikes
1890
1891
June:
The
two
acre
site
of
Elm
House
Estate
on
Lavender
Hill
is
purchased
for
the
new
town
hall:
motion
proposed
by
Vestryman
Rossiter
and
seconded
by
Vestryman
Charles
Mason,
passed
56:12.
The
estate
was
purchased
for
8,450,
with
the
total
for
the
building
not
to
exceed
42,000.
1892
John
Burns
becomes
MP
for
Battersea
(until
1914)
Did
he
but
show
himself,
Battersea
would
shout
the
roof
of
the
Town
Hall
down
in
clamouring
for
him
to
begin.
Thus
there
is
nothing
for
the
right
honourable
gentleman
to
do
but
hide
himself.
So
here
he
lurks
in
a
dark
little
corner
on
the
crooked
little
staircase
leading
to
the
platform
1
June:
Committee
accept
the
tender
of
Mr.
W.
Wallis,
the
contract
sum
for
the
erection
of
the
Buildings
was
26,258.
Building
begins
and
progress
is
extremely
rapid
due
to
exceptionally
fine
weather
196
st th
195
The
fall
in
the
ground
is
so
rapid
that
it
has
been
found
to
be
possible
to
obtain
a
complete
storey
below
the
floor
of
the
Public
Hall,
yet
entirely
above
ground
and
this
although
the
floor
level
of
the
Public
Hall
is
several
feet
below
that
of
the
Municipal
Offices. Plans
are
altered
along
the
way:
A
considerable
amount
of
work
which
was
not
included
in
the
selected
design
has
been
carried
out
in
the
course
of
the
erection
of
the
buildings
this
is
particularly
noticeable
in
the
plans
for
the
Grand
Hall.
A
simple
balcony
is
added
to
the
Grand
Hall
(increasing
capacity
from
1000
to
1140.
Today
the
capacity
is
800).
195 196
197
Loobey, Patrick, Battersea Past, Historical Publications, London 2002, p.14 Programme of Inauguration, Battersea Municipal Buildings and Town Hall, 15.11.1893, p.20 (Misc. File 725.13 BATT), Battersea History Library 197 Programme of Inauguration, Battersea Municipal Buildings and Town Hall, 15.11.1893, p.20 (Misc. File 725.13 BATT), Battersea History Library
88
July
9 :
Artists
view
of
the
principal
staircase
is
published
in
the
Builder
1893
July
8 :
The
elevation
is
published
in
the
Builder
alongside
a
list
of
the
principal
features
of
the
plan
(see
Appendix)
15
November:
Town
Hall
is
opened
by
Lord
Roseberry.
Battersea
had
only
been
a
borough
for
five
years.
MP
for
Battersea
is
John
Burns,
the
first
working
class
person
to
become
a
member
of
parliament.
1894
1896
1897
1900
Council
adopt
the
motto
Non
mihi,
non
tibi,
sed
nobis
(Neither
for
me,
nor
for
you,
but
for
us)
Second
phase
of
works
on
the
town
hall
new
staircase
and
landing
added
in
West
wing,
front
half.
The
Shakespeare
Theatre
opens
next
door
to
the
Town
Hall
Battersea
Polytechnic
opens,
designed
by
E.W.
Mountford
th th
th
Work carried out on the Retiring Rooms and the new Refreshment Room. An
organ
is
commissioned
for
the
Grand
Hall
from
NAME
OF
ORGAN
PEOPLE
London
Government
Act:
divides
the
County
of
London
into
28
Metropolitan
Boroughs,
dissolving
the
vestries
and
district
boards
of
works.
The
Parish
of
Saint
Mary
Battersea
becomes
the
Metropolitan
Borough
of
Battersea.
The
Borough
Council
replace
the
vestry.
1901
1902
1903
Town
Hall
Dwellings
are
constructed:
18
tenements
of
two
flats,
equal
to
a
total
of
351
housing
units.
1906
1910
1913
10
November:
Election
of
Britains
first
black
mayor
of
a
metropolitan
borough,
John
Archer.
th
89
Election of Indian, Communist Labour Party candidate Shapurji Saklatava as Mayor. Communist Party National Congress
Plans drawn up for proposed alterations to the Town Hall Communist Party National Congress
Local headquarters during the General Strike, building remains open 24 hours a day.
Communist Party National Congress Mayor Shapurji Saklatava stands down following a ban on communist Labour Party members.
1933
Celebration
of
Charlotte
Despards
89
Birthday
(an
early
member
of
the
Battersea
Trades
Council,
Labour
Party
and
leader
of
the
Womens
Freedom
League).
1937
American
singer
Paul
Robeson
appears
at
a
concert
to
celebrate
the
20
anniversary
of
the
founding
of
the
Soviet
Union.
1939
1940
First
bombs
drop
on
Battersea.
Lower
Hall
becomes
centre
for
air
raid
precautions.
Jan
7
1941.
Went
on
the
police
phone.
Had
a
lot
of
bombs
drop
on
Glycena
and
Grayshott
Roads.
They
shook
T.H.
Elsie
Youngs
Diary.
Grand
Hall
is
used
for
the
distribution
of
gas
masks:
In
1939,
as
did
hundreds
of
other
people,
I
collected
my
gas
mask
from
the
Town
Hall
None
of
them
seemed
to
fit
very
well
then
war
came
and
I
was
evacuated
with
my
school
Honeywell
Road
to
Bognor
Regis,
but
returned
to
hear
the
first
bomb
drop
on
Battersea
in
1940.
1948
3,000
houses
destroyed
by
bombs
in
Battersea.
Up
to
1948
22,000
houses
received
bomb
damage
repair
Local
Government
Act
enabled
local
authorities
to
spend
a
proportion
of
their
budget
on
entertainment
and
Trevor
Dobinson,
who
worked
as
Deputy
Entertainments
Officer
in
the
early
1960s
recalled
how
to
some
extent
the
Grand
Hall
replaced
the
role
of
the
Shakespeare
Theatre.
Doris
Nichols
wins
fight
for
equal
pay
of
town
hall
workers,
regardless
of
sex.
th th
90
1949
Barbara
Hayr
becomes
a
Tory
Councillor
and
recalls
voting
in
the
Lower
Hall
with
her
mother:
She
said
Now,
I
want
you
to
promise
me
that
when
you
grow
up
you
will
always
vote
in
an
election.
We
had
to
fight
so
hard
to
get
the
vote,
so
you
must
never
waste
it.
1957
Shakespeare
Theatre
is
demolished
due
to
bomb
damage.
Replaced
with
an
office
block
(now
Foxtons).
1960
1963
1965
31
March:
The
last
meeting
is
held
in
the
Battersea
Town
Hall
Council
Chamber.
The
councillors
move
offices
to
Wandsworth
Town
Hall.
1967
2
June:
South
Western
Star
announces
that
Battersea
Town
Hall
is
to
be
chopped
in
two,
partially
demolished
and
replaced
by
a
new
swimming
pool
and
library.
The
design,
by
the
Borough
Architect
L.
Phillips,
replaced
the
Victorian
frontage
and
extended
onto
the
site
of
the
old
Shakespeare
Theatre,
leaving
only
the
Grand
Hall
intact.
the
cost
of
keeping
the
council
chambers
and
other
rooms
open
was
heavy
and
they
were
not
being
used
by
any
other
organisation
in
the
borough.
198
nd st
London Government Act dissolves Battersea Borough into Wandsworth Borough Council.
revealed
plans
to
build
a
swimming
pool
and
library
on
the
site
to
provide
better
facilities
and
release
the
sites
of
old
Central
Library
on
Lavender
Hill
and
the
Latchmere
Baths,
releasing
land
valued
at
nearly
1.5
million
for
redevelopment.
16
June:
Battersea
Society
form
a
movement
to
rescue
the
Town
Hall:
Battersea
Town
Hall
is
not
going
to
be
chopped
in
half
without
a
struggle
on
the
part
of
the
Battersea
Society There
was
a
fear
that
Batterseas
identity
would
be
lost:
Consciously
or
sub-consciously
the
present
councils
real
motive
is
to
remove
the
last
remaining
municipal
reminder
of
the
old
borough
of
Battersea
in
order
to
stamp
their
own
authority
on
the
district.
16
June:
Nikolaus
Pevsner
writes
to
Wandsworth
Borough
Council:
I
know
Battersea
Town
Hall
well
and
I
would,
not
only
as
Chairman
of
the
Victorian
Society,
but
also
personally,
be
very
perturbed
if
it
were
true
that
there
are
plans
for
demolition.
198 199
199
th
200
201
th
202
No one wants to use council chamber, Battersea Town Hall to be chopped in two, South Western Star, 2.6.1967 Anon., Town Halls famous faade must go, South London Press, 26.9.1967 200 They will fight to save the old Town Hall, South Western Star, 16.6.1967 201 Eleventh-hour reprieve for Town Hall being sought, South Western Star, 14.7.1967 202 Pevsner, N., Letter from Victorian Society, 16.6.1967, Misc. File 725.13 BATT, Battersea History Library
91
21
June:
John
Betjeman
writes
to
Wandsworth
Borough
Council:
This
Town
Hall,
particularly
inside,
is
what
a
Town
Hall
ought
to
be.
It
lifts
you
up.
It
has
scale
and
it
is
irreplaceable.
July:
Councillor
Sendall
stated
that
the
Labour
majority
on
the
old
Battersea
council
had
spent
large
amounts
of
money
on
the
offices
inside
the
Town
Hall
just
before
the
merger
with
WBC.
He
questioned
what
had
happened
to
their
ideas
for
its
future
use.
Alderman
Sporle
responded
that
the
circumstances
were
now
different.
21
July:
Battersea
Society
wrote
an
open
letter
to
Wandsworth
Council,
challenging
them
to
debate
their
plans
for
the
Town
Hall
in
public:
As
a
suggestion
the
motion
to
be
debated
might
be
That
now
is
the
time
to
pull
down
the
front
of
Battersea
Town
Hall.
For:
A
representative
of
the
Wandsworth
Borough
Council.
Against:
A
representative
of
Battersea
Society.
August:
It
is
revealed
that
Wandsworth
Borough
Council
have
neither
the
funds
nor
permissions
to
build
the
plans
that
have
been
drawn
up
for
the
site.
The
Town
Hall
will
be
knocked
down
to
create
a
potential
site:
the
council
has
been
advised
by
the
Government
to
continue
with
its
plans
on
the
basis
that
when
the
present
restrictions
end,
councils
with
sites
and
plans
ready
will
be
the
first
to
get
approval.
Autumn:
WBC
remain
determined
to
execute
their
plans:
Wandsworth
Council
has
finally
decided
that
Battersea
Town
Hall
frontage
must
and
will
come
down.
206
205
st st
203
204
Leader
of
the
Council
Alderman
Sporle
stated
that
he
would
regret
the
passing
of
the
old
council
offices
as
much
as
any
other
member
of
the
old
Battersea
council
but
he
would
not
allow
emotion
to
colour
his
judgement.
st
207
1
September:
Local
surveyor
Neville
Rayner
writes
to
PM
Harold
Wilson:
[Batterseas]
pride,
affection
and
closely
knit
community
life
has,
for
over
half
a
century,
centred
round
this
Town
Hall
as
a
focal
point
The
architectural
qualities
of
the
faade
are
of
a
very
high
standard
and,
apart
from
the
community
factors
already
mentioned,
would
be
an
architectural
loss
to
London.
208
203 204
Copy of letter from John Betjeman, 21.6.1967, Misc. File 725.13 BATT, Battersea History Library Anon., Town hall baths scheme goes on, Clapham News Observer, 4.8.1967 205 Open letter by Battersea Society: Council challenged to debate its Town Hall plan, South Western Star, 21.7.1967 206 Anon., Victorian relic goes to free valuable land, The Evening News, 25.9.1967 207 Anon., Ald. Sporle not convinced there is much concern, South Western Star, 4.8.1967 208 Rayner, N., Prime Minister invited to intervene, South Western Star, 1.9.1967
92
18
September:
an
official
application
is
made
by
the
Battersea
Society
to
the
Historic
Building
Committee
of
the
Greater
London
Council
for
a
preservation
order
to
be
placed
on
the
building.
The
Housing
Minister,
Anthony
Greenwood,
is
advised
that
the
Town
Hall
should
be
listed
as
of
special
architectural
and
historic
interest.
He
requests
that
WBC
reconsider
its
plans
in
light
of
this.
25
September:
Alderman
Sporle
convenes
a
meeting
of
the
Ad
Hoc
Committee
to
consider
the
Housing
Ministers
letter:
I
will
personally
do
my
best
at
the
meeting
to
ensure
that
the
architectural
merits
are
considered
in
any
future
decision
about
the
Town
Halls
future.
29
September:
Sporle
confirms
that
despite
local
pressure
over
the
summer
months
it
must
and
will
come
down.
209
th th
th
to
stand
in
the
way
of
progress.
Sporle
says:
People
die
and
we
bury
the
body
but
do
not
forget
the
person.
The
same
thing
happens
to
old
buildings,
we
have
to
look
to
the
future.
October:
Debate
over
the
Town
Halls
architectural
merit:
Councillor
Jim
Carrana:
The
Town
Hall
is
a
reflection
of
past
povertypoor
and
cheap.
Ex-councillor
D.G.
Adams:
Those
who
are
against
demolition
of
any
part
of
it
dont
say
that
it
is
beautiful
and
they
didnt
gather
4,500
signatures
to
prove
it.
[The
Town
Hall
was
built
in
times
of]
extreme
hunger
and
privation
therefore
our
town
hall
was
not
a
creative
beauty.
It
was
staid,
but
it
meant
something
to
Battersea.
211 210
212
The
town
hall
may
not
be
Londons
most
beautiful
building,
but
it
does
possess
a
certain
ponderous
charm
not
usually
found
in
late
Victorian
buildings.
11
October:
Harold
Wilson
replies
to
Neville
Rayners
letter,
saying
that
the
town
hall
had
been
inspected
and
it
is
now
agreed
that
it
is
a
building
of
considerable
architectural
distinction
which
merits
inclusion
in
the
statutory
list
I
hope
that
this
will
ensure
the
possibility
of
retaining
the
existing
building
213
th
December:
Meeting
of
the
Ad-hoc
Committee
in
which
it
is
expected
the
future
of
the
site
will
be
decided.
There
is
a
general
discussion
but
they
end
the
meeting
with
nothing
to
report.
214
209 210
Anon., Town Halls famous faade must go, South London Press, 26.9.1967 Anon., Town Hall controversy: sentiment must not stand in the way of progress, South Western Star, 29.9.1967 211 Adams, D.G., What the Town Hall means to an ex-councillor, South Western Star, 20.10.1967 212 Anon., Opinion, South Western Star, 13.10.1967 213 Anon., Wilsons help saves heart of Battersea, Daily Telegraph, 11.10.1967 214 Anon, Page one opinion, South Western Star, 8.12.1967
93
1968
May:
Labour-led
councils
election
documents
states:
Provided
it
is
not
held
back
by
reactionary
elements
locally,
aiming
to
preserve
an
architectural
monstrosity,
the
overall
re- planning
of
the
site
can
provide
a
really
up
to
date
and
impressive
cultural
and
leisure
centre
for
Battersea.
215
September:
Tory-led
council
have
still
failed
to
come
up
with
a
solution:
Isnt
it
about
time
that
we
were
given
a
final
once
and
for
all
decision
about
the
future
of
this
building?
29
December:
Council
announce
that
the
building
will
be
preserved,
but
no
indication
is
made
as
to
its
proposed
use.
They
plan
to
lease
the
old
Town
Hall
to
the
Institute
of
Production
Engineers
as
their
headquarters,
but
this
falls
through.
The
building
remains
empty.
1970
May:
Labour
return
to
power
and
a
community
arts
centre
is
proposed:
studios,
exhibition
galleries,
a
pottery,
a
dark
room,
rehearsal
and
meeting
rooms
intended
for
use
by
local
community
and
cultural
groups,
from
theatre
and
musical
groups
to
the
local
history
society
and
pigeon
fanciers. 1974
1973
June:
Works
begin
to
convert
the
town
hall
into
an
arts
centre
1974
15
November:
Building
is
re-opened
as
Battersea
Town
Hall
community
centre.
The
Chief
Executive
is
Mr.
Brian
Harris.
February:
Time
Out
publish
an
article
questioning
Wandsworths
thinking:
We
should
be
asking
why
Arts
Centres
continue
to
be
built
or
converted
with
no
positive
idea
of
what
they
are
for
or
who
will
be
using
them
Wandsworth
will
launch
its
reconstituted
Town
Hall
/
Arts
Centre
inevitably
the
usual
problems
will
occur:
lack
of
finance,
lack
of
direction,
confused
thinking
about
why
it
didnt
work
as
any
of
them
expected.
215 216
th
th
216
th
217
Anon., They dont talk about THEM, South Western Star, 29. 3.1968 Linton, M., Decision after eight years headache: 109,000 cultural centre planned for Town Hall, South Western Star, 30.10.1970 217 Anon., Nothing Too Arty, Time Out n.154, Feb 2-8 1974, p.16-17
94
1977
May
to
November:
Battersea
Town
Hall
community
centre
closes
for
seven
months
renovation
work.
The
stud
walls
in
the
gallery
are
knocked
down
to
create
one
large
room,
a
bar
is
built
in
the
adjacent
room
and
the
caf
is
stripped
out
and
reconfigured.
December:
Andrew
Wells,
chairman
of
North
Battersea
Conservative
Association
attacked
the
Council
for
its
ridiculous
waste
on
namby-pamby
art
and
recreation
we
will
cut
down
on
unnecessary
expenditure
and
aspects
of
the
arts
centre
are
unnecessary.
218
Councillor
Martin
Linton,
Chairman
of
the
Entertainments
committee
and
instrumental
in
opening
the
arts
centre
in
1974
warns:
If
they
[Tories]
get
a
majority
in
May
we
will
see
mindless
acts
of
vandalism
in
the
council
chamber.
1978
May:
The
Tories
return
to
power
in
May
of
1978
and
begin
making
moves
to
have
the
centre
closed
as
part
of
a
wide
range
of
expenses
cuts.
1980
March:
The
council
withdraw
the
150,000
p.a.
grant
and
the
building
closes.
June:
The
Friends
of
Battersea
Arts
Centre
is
formed.
A
deputation
from
the
Friends
of
Battersea
Arts
Centre
address
Wandsworths
recreation
committee,
after
which
it
is
recommended
that
investigations
into
outside
sources
of
funding
go
ahead.
It
is
finally
agreed
that
the
arts
centre
will
become
an
independent
organisation
with
the
Borough
Council
providing
an
annual
grant
and
subsidised
rent
to
cover
running
costs.
The
Battersea
Arts
Centre
Trust
is
formed,
chaired
by
Martin
Linton.
They
make
an
application
to
the
council
for
40,633
to
reopen
the
arts
centre.
They
are
awarded
35,000.
The
Council
continue
to
run
the
Grand
and
Lower
Halls
as
a
separate
enterprise.
1981
January:
The
building
is
re-opened
under
the
artistic
directorship
of
Jude
Kelly,
with
a
new
identity:
BAC.
Wandsworth
Pensioners
Talent
Contest
1982
Conversion
works
including:
childrens
cinema,
pottery
wheels,
disabled
dark
room,
dance
studio
and
the
caf
stage.
Council
chamber
converted
into
the
main
house,
1985
17
May:
Princess
Diana
visits
BAC
to
open
the
newly
refurbished
Studio
One
Jude
Kelly
leaves
BAC
for
the
Royal
Shakespeare
Company.
In
1990
she
becomes
the
first
Artistic
Director
of
the
West
Yorkshire
Playhouse
and
in
2005
the
Artistic
Director
of
the
South
Bank
Centre.
1987
218
th
95
February
May:
Adaptations
carried
out
to
the
Council
Chamber
ancillary
spaces
to
convert
them
into
dressing
rooms.
April
May:
Council
Chamber
conversion,
installation
of
retractable
seating
rake.
1988
1988
1990
1995
Paul
Blackman
leaves
BAC
to
become
a
freelance
producer
(for
the
Roundhouse,
then
National
Youth
Theatre)
1996
10,000
spent
on
improvements
Small
Lottery
Grant
for
minor
works
and
feasibility
study
for
5
million
developments
Design
Competition
won
by
Levitt
Bernstein
Architects.
Designs
drawn
up
for
renovated
Council
Chamber,
three
new
studio
theatres
and
seating
in
the
Grand
Hall.
1997
Receives
second
sum
of
lottery
money
and
agrees
ten-year
lease
with
the
council
60,000
spent
on
renovating
the
glass
dome
over
the
Grand
Hall
Foyer
Plans
developed
for
12
million
project.
ACE
ask
BAC
to
come
back
with
plans
for
a
2
millions
project.
Lottery
funds
are
drying
up.
1998
1999
March:
BAC
is
accepted
onto
the
Arts
Councils
Recovery
and
Stabilisation
Programme:
The
Recovery
programme,
launched
in
March
1999,
was
for
mid
to
large-scale
arts
organisations
in
danger
of
imminent
insolvency.
It
helped
organisations
develop
turnaround
strategies,
working
with
their
key
stakeholders.
219
st
Jane Dawson, previously General Manager of BAC, becomes Director. October: Paul Blackman becomes Artistic Director
Tom Morris discovers BACs deficit is much larger than they thought. The Finance Manager quits and BAC is forced to go through major organisational restructuring at SMT level.
September:
David
Jubb
comes
from
running
the
Lion
and
Unicorn
Theatre
to
work
at
BAC
as
Development
Producer
2000
219
http://www.artscouncil.org.uk/funding/stabilisation.php
96
2001
Wandsworth Borough Council grant increases from 126,000 to 425,065 David Jubb leaves BAC to become a freelance Producer
97
Appendix
4
Design
walk
around
BAC
for
The
Masque
of
the
Red
Death,
23
November
2006
Present:
Steve
Tompkins,
Felix
Barrett,
David
Jubb,
Laura
McDermott,
later
joined
by
Anna
Martin
and
Rosie
Hunter.
We
decided
to
record
the
conversation
between
Steve
Tompkins
and
Felix
Barrett
as
they
walked
around
BACs
building
for
the
first
time
together.
The
idea
was
the
capture
the
initial,
raw
impressions
and
gut
reactions
to
the
space
and
to
each
others
ideas
it
was
thought
that
these
would
prove
to
be
invaluable
points
of
reference
later
on
in
the
project.
Steve
wanted
the
chat
to
be
free-flowing
and
not
particularly
guided
by
our
agenda.
He
was
interested
in
reversing
the
usual
process
of
his
job
an
artist
walking
into
a
building
that
has
been
architected
and
having
an
artist
led
walk
around
BAC.
[
Steves
story
of
a
legendary
party
in
the
ruined
lobby
of
Mr
Eiffels
mansion
]
S:
You
mentioned
that
the
audience
will
be
coming
in
together
or
will
they
be
fed
in
separately?
F:
Itll
be
the
same
principles
as
Faust
but
with
this
there
will
probably
be
lots
of
different
entrance
points
so
it
really
is
a
start
as
an
individual.
Like
Faust
where
there
was
a
scene
in
the
basement
when
it
finished
and
everyone
is
then
led
through
to
the
bar
well
work
on
a
similar
principle
to
that
everyone
surges
into
the
great
hall
as
one.
Also
there
will
be
a
separate
audience
who
are
there
purely
for
the
great
hall.
That
impact
when
you
start
off
as
an
individual
and
then
walk
into
the
party
and
its
already
going
on
-
its
already
brimming
with
people
in
hats,
masks,
bits
of
costume.
The
realisation
that
its
bigger
than
you
realised.
But
coming
back
to
this
space
I
had
a
vision
of
dust,
grass,
creepers
coming
up
and
trees
so
you
really
feel
the
size
of
the
space
and
you
cant
actually
see
down
to
the
ground
you
just
get
a
view
of
a
canopy.
D:
So
you
dont
get
a
sense
of
where
the
floor
is.
F:
No.
You
know
what
you
were
saying
about
the
wires,
on
this
wall
if
we
have
a
wall
of
lights
-
S:
-
Lights
that
just
shoot
-
F:
-
from
floor
to
ceiling
which
is
also
constantly
changing
so
theyre
never
static,
the
colours
always
revolving.
S:
Are
we
allowed
fire
in
this
building?
D:
Yes.
F:
Are
we?!
rd
98
D: Yeah, I mean obviously within the context of any risk assessment there have to be measures put in place S: Because the thing I noticed about these plans is just how many fireplaces there are. F: That would be S: It goes back to Mr Eiffels mansion every room had a fireplace in it so you walk in and youre just F: We did this production of Woyzceck which was lit purely with candles and fire - an old barracks there was no other light source it was just S: We should really go back 250 years F: sledgehammer and torches [laugh] F: So all these offices have fireplaces? D: Really, I dont know we went in search of a working fireplace quite recently for Geraldine Pilgrims project in the Fire of London she wanted to use a fireplace for her piece. S: [looking at plans, counting] 8 even though they may not be there, in fact the flumes will still be there, so in fact you could put a fireplace in. D: That would be great. F: That would be amazing. S: You probably only need people like your shadowy people in the background, just lurking there watching the fire. F: Yes. Its easy to get a chimney sorted out, isnt it? S: Yes you just sweep it, you might have to put a chimney pot on it but thats whats so good about the process then youve got chimneys that work and maybe you put a wood burner in maybe in your office? D: Thats really exciting because its also linked to the idea of the legacies of each one of these projects because you know one the big reasons were doing this how our very first conversations started which was about reinventing arts buildings and reinventing how they look and feel and what kind of the idea is that each one of these projects within the scope of the project what was a fire might become a wood burner at the end of the project and leave an artist kitchen a staff kitchen and so on.
99
F: the intimacy that would come from that forever more S: Ive always thought that every green room should have a fireplace. Also we were saying earlier that wouldnt it be great if the building had a budget each year and its not called the maintenance budget its not all for building fabrics it was just money that could be spent on BAC. If youre intelligent and responsible enough with how its allocated you can use the show budget the show decorates the building and you keep some and get rid of what you dont want. Imagine, for example this space to me [standing on main staircase, looking at wall of main house] I was saying earlier it feels like half a space theres a really interesting sense of whats going on here? What if it there was just a really badly foxed mirror the whole of these three panels so you suddenly get a sense of this fantastic, almost circular space with this enormous circular stair so you stand there and you see your distorted, faded reflection. The place I stayed in Venice last week, on the stair landing as you came down they just had this almost shrine like mirror and it was really distressed with a huge fissure down the middle so your reflection had a fuzzy black line right down the middle of your face and body it was a really eerie experience, very very strange, incredible compelling. I think in a space like this instead of those horrid corporate uplighters just dangle a dusty lightbulb there and have some candles maybe three of four just in front of the mirrors just flickering away theres an immanent trace of what is happening behind. F: Yeah you know you get those faded mirrors with Victorian glass, and sometimes you check yourself in them, you cant quite work out D: They give a slightly different way of seeing F: whats through it S: Because you see the plane of the reflection and then you see the space beyond it its like looking through a gauze or something. F: Practically, the main house has to be a space that can absorb lots of people and so probably in terms of source material it will be some sort of a music hall or Parisian - some sort of old theatre with a vast list of cabaret acts, and if you can see into that S: Exactly F: So you cant hear anything but if you could see through it would be so lovely. S: To see through a mirror. We did some work with an artist called Dan Graham who did an exhibition at the Hayward Gallery and the thing he deals with is semi-reflective glass so you think youre looking at a reflection but you realise youre not. Its a bit like that thing in with Shunt in the vault. D: This is what it reminded me of that feeling of distress Im there but I cant quite place myself. S: Because directly beyond that panel is the main window out onto the street if you put soundproof glass in there and then put a mirror here. So youre standing here and you see the impression of daylight on the glass, but look behind you and actually there is no daylight. Theres this sort of complicated weirdness going on.
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D: Yeah thats very interesting. S: And maybe taking a blowtorch to everything that isnt stone and ripping out all the light fittings F: When you say taking a blowtorch do you mean just totally distressing it or do you mean just taking it all off. S: Maybe just scrape it all off and see how much else you want to put back. F: If we were to do something wed probably have some kind of crackleglaze so its all kind of hanging off S: Or maybe just taking some nitrise to it and see what genuine stories lie underneath. Because suddenly if you start to merge the real architecture the permanent architecture with the scenographics then you can choose whats authentic and whats not. F: Completely. S: Im trying to figure out if this is redecorating of the mouldings or whether its just a paint job. D: I think its the mouldings. I think the paint job was late 90s? I think they did it at the same time as they were trying to recreate the spirit of the building I think it was one of those heritage attempts S: I love the idea of you coming into what really feels like the town hall and a performance happening. The whole of the trace of it being an arts centre the idea that there had been performance here before - is sort of expunged. F: Is that a BAC pane of glass? D: I think all that was done at the time of the paint job. S: All that has to go. F: Or if we keep it we could totally deface it S: Spray over it F: I always find it frustrating looking up to see all those opaque squares. D: And if you look up there not the first set of windows, but the thin ones can you see something flickering? F: Is that the fan? D: Yes its totally beautiful - whenever I look up and the windows have been removed I think oh my god its really exciting.
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F: It would be great to put a light source up there so at points you could blast something through there so you can just see this big mechanical structure. S: I watched lots of my old Roger Corman films the other day. They are a series of Poe films genuine B-movies. F: I was keen to talk to you about the rehearsal studio over there its got loads of walls in it. S: Yes, flimsy pre-fab, arts centre pre-fab. F: You cant really see the shape of the space they flatten it you cant see the ridges. S: What are these lights they look like flying saucers? D: Yes, again, I think these were done at the time of the re-fit there was a point where the main house was refitted 91 or 92. S: I think we shouldnt have any lights coming out of the ceiling we should just sling a cable and maybe drill some hooks and just loop the cable and just dangle builders lights or lightbulbs where theyre needed, if anything. D: I was saying to Felix earlier, artists must come in to newly refurbished buildings and think What 50 or 60 production budgets?! and for what all youve actually done is just made it more difficult to do a piece of work. [now in the pre-fab city at the back of Studio 6] D: Theres a massive void above this whole side of the building. You know when you go up to the attic corridor, you walk along those offices thats all been filled and on this side of the building it basically doesnt exist. So theres the same on this footprint on this side. So its one of the unexploited spaces above that main house dressing room. [Anna Martin and Rosie Hunter enter] Can you walk in the roof void, Anna? A: No D: Can you crawl? A: Ive never been up there myself, I suspect you can probably crawl S: How listed are we? All: 2 star. D: This gets more and more pre-fab the more you go round.
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A: All this is a mess all these offices are constructed people get partition happy. D: Pre-fab heaven! S: This is interesting for you, isnt it Felix? F: The smaller spaces are actually quite good this is where it gets labyrinthine here. Equally there arent really any big open spaces here apart from that room and the studios. And I suppose theres the gallery. S: Have you got an accurate drawing of the building as its currently used? A: Yes, weve got some fairly recent plans. S: It would be great to get some copies Ive been looking at the original drawings and the drawings from when it was a council chamber. [to Felix] When you did Faust did you just work with technical structures hanging loose wires and cables and so on? F: Yes, thats all we had the budget and man power to do. S: [to Anna] How does your technical structure in the building work at the moment? Are you fixed permanent mains. A: All the cabling is a mix. I think theyve been up into the roof void at points when they cabled more recently. S: If you were going to go promenade through the whole building I guess your present technical infrastructure doesnt stretch beyond the current performance spaces. A: No, itd have to be rewired. S: That might be the most important part of this joint collaborative project making the building work in all parts - so it just plugs in for sound and light. One version that I was pondering about was using the whole of the first floor as an auditorium that had partitions fireplaces and stairs within it you could just walk up into it. Its a prairie of existing spaces and performance spaces thats got a technical infrastructure in there. And the roof voids and attic spaces are there too. And maybe the social and support spaces and the workshop spaces are on the ground floor. You get a sense as you come in the door that what the building wants you to do is go straight up to the first floor where all the grand rooms are. Maybe all the stuff thats up here on the first floor just needs to drop down. And we leave this almost like a derelict building that happens to have really really good wiring in it. Reverse the polarity of the building so it just looks knackered, but it so isnt. A: We have major issues with the wiring throughout the building. S: Its the thing thats just on the point of collapse, isnt it?
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A: Yes. S: Theres every reason to say we cant carry on unless we do this. In doing this, we could either rewire, or we could think What if this was a performance budget? how could we rewire That seems really exciting to me. It means this all becomes a performance space. The best moment for me in Faust was at the bottom of the stairwell when there someone being dragged out. F: Yes, all the heads. S: Just to come across it I immediately snapped back to this. And theres the other staircase with the solid balustrade and the slightly ornate gilded bit. D: The main house staircase? [No Steve means the staircase to the Mezz Room. We go through the magic door to halls side. Looking out through a window towards roof void of the grand hall and glass dome] S: I was imagining we could make a door here and make some barriers to protect the glass so you could promenade outside [on the flat roof]. I was thinking about the courtyard too. On the original drawing its just a clean space and it doesnt have any of the cumulative junk in it. The way to beat the listing worries is to get it more and more back to what it was, so youre actually turning the argument back on itself. Were taking out all the things that you were worried about. What you listed was the original building and thats what we want as well. D: Which gives you a little bit of room as well. S: Exactly youve got negotiating space because youre doing so much in their favour on the credit side youve got this enormous list of removals - you can afford one or two braver things. D: Genius. A: Andrew was saying the other day about the Lower Hall and the foyer. They have a suspended ceiling down there but behind it its all high ceilings and moulded. Theres lovely stuff behind it if we can rip it all out. S: Its the underworld isnt it? the sort of scuzzy 1960s underworld cloakrooms and things its brilliant - its so melancholic. But again the possibilities of lighting could transform all these spaces. [looking over the roof again, pointing over to a door] I forget where that door does? A: It goes up to the top of the stairs to where you come into the balcony in the grand hall. S: And the attic space on this side, with that little runway its got to go. F: Whats the attic over is it the Puppet Centre? S: Whats the story with the Puppet Centre?
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D: In terms of what in terms of how we use the space? S: Is that always the Puppet Centre? D: It is at the moment but one of the ambitions of the project is to re-imagine the entire space so well be having some interesting conversations with resident companies over the next six months. I think the Puppet Centre will be one of the most flexible in terms of wanting to be involved. If we can find what might be workspaces or something during the day so that people can still rehearse and stuff and provide that flexibility, then I think thats not going to be an issue. S: How many performers would be working simultaneously or do you imagine could be working simultaneously on different productions on a given day? D: err 30 I guess? S: and would they be working on the same thing or different things? D: Different things, there could be anything from about four up to about seven shows rehearsing in the building at once. S: And performing? D: probably a bit less since youve lost the rehearsal spaces so I suppose about a dozen to 20 across the three spaces. S: So youve got three performances going on at the same time? And are they all preparing separately and would need to carry on doing that?` D: No, in the context of this collaboration we would look to potentially only operate one studio space independently or semi-independently or to-be-defined-dependently in relation to the Poe experience. F: Wed probably have another space that was for other people making work but under the banner of the same project. One independent and one collaborative space. S: But is the idea of a performers preparation space for the whole building interesting or just completely unworkable? One space where people will normally prepare and dress, but maybe like in the Young Vic theyve just got trolleys a sort of mobile actors world and it can be pulled around anywhere it wants and it just folds out into mirror and drawers. D: Brilliant. R: So when you say prepare do you mean dressing rooms? S: Yes, dressing rooms, showers, loos. R: Thats not necessarily unworkable.
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D: No not at all. This is so many of the dreams the idea of you working in unused buildings and us being a used building - theres a really rich collaboration in terms of us finding greater flexibility for the used building to be able to precisely this is my trolley this is my dressing room well have a dressing room here. [to Felix] Which could also be interesting in terms of your development too in terms of the way your actors work. Do many of your actors change character or do they just stick all the way through? F: We never really considered performers changing characters as much as we should do but we just havent had the practical facilities. S: Do you know Id love to come and have a look at that space [21 Wapping Lane] with you one day in the daytime, maybe talk to some of the performers too and see how their experience of it is. D: That would be good, yeah maybe that could be the same day we get Mr Accenture guy down again. S: And the licensing officers as well perhaps. S: If it was this though and we took all this off and took all the carpet up then this detail suddenly becomes poignant and melancholic. D: I had a relationship with one of these recently [pointing to brass door closing mechanism] S: You dont need to go on D: I was in Brazil at this conference and the one theatre show I got to see when I was out there was by this guy called Zee Cessou hes this theatre guru-god whos been making work in Brazil for 50 years hes had a massive influence on Brazilian theatre (interestingly when you mention Augusto Boal nobody really knows who he is and aesthetically hes gone he was known in terms of his political work and his community work but aesthetically hes gone) everyones addicted to this other guy. I turned up to his theatre and its this incredible building a very very tall, very very long theatre and halfway through the show I just looked up and thought fuck thats the sky! it didnt have a ceiling and then it started raining and the ceiling slid back over S: Really? D: Yeah but that makes it sound very kind of hi-tech but the building was fucked, everything was just about to fall to pieces. The scaff all round the edge which the audience were seated on 4 different rows. When I arrived the theatre doors they were these enormous great things when I arrived there was this enormous rumble behind them and the doors just burst out and 40 pwerformers just burst out, some of them riding 6ft canons and ran into the street and ran down the street it was incredible. The door burst open and one of these things [brass door closer] flew off. This little guy just came up to me and started shouting in Portuguese I realised he was really short and he wanted me to fix it. I suddenly felt this amazing connection to the building this extraordinary experience I felt so part of it. Partly because it didnt work partly because you had to help them - you were party to it. S: Thats so interesting isnt it? Unless you feel empathy with the building if you feel like youre
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superfluous, like its better off without you, then D: Yeah S: Just get out of the fucking building please? Youre spoiling it! [downstairs into halls side, pondering if there is a skylight to match the window above main staircase that had been covered over] S: You know those old Roman bath houses with vaulted ceilings and archways and stone masonry, with shafts of natural light that just come piercing through looking at that I got a real sense of what could happen in this building. Its like you need to do exactly what English heritage want but you just stop 80% of the way through, before youve finished. You havent done anything, you havent broken the rules. Youve scraped it back, youve skipped loads of junk maybe youve taken out all the light fittings - and youve put back an infrastructure that is much more intelligent. Then - I dont know if this is right, but maybe - the whole of the first floor is just a deck of performance space that can be lots of different things in the daytime and it can just be a zone for performance at the night. Maybe theres a big room-sized goods lift that maybe 50 people could get into and think they are in a room and the door shuts but its so slow you dont realise youre going anywhere, and the door opens again and theyre somewhere else. Just finding ways of mucking around with peoples understanding and orientation. It will be inherently flexible plug a light in decide to move it and plug it in somewhere else. The main thing is that the look and feel of it just grows out of successive performances, which all leave their traces on the building. ! ! ! Wrapping up the meeting we noticed that there had been some brilliant parallel points and uncanny common ambitions with Steve and Felixs respective reactions to the building. A lot of the suggestions or ideas we have come up with in this conversation are quite simple, but they are brave. As a one-off expense they will be expensive, but there will be a seismic shift in the way the building operates. !
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Appendix 5 th Interview with Axel Burrough, Battersea Arts Centre, 8 June 2009 Cassette 1 SIDE A [Looking at drawings of BAC] Allegra: Firstly, are these your drawings? Axel Burrough: No. these are mostly Bethan Davis drawings mostly. She was working with me on it. AG: I sort of divided these into the different areas I wanted to talk about and I think these are about the centre of the building. Also the main courtyard area, and this was the central studio. AB: Well that was a different scheme. AG: That was what I was going to ask. AB: That was earlier, if I remember rightly. AG: If I ask my questions, then maybe it will come in order. AB: What are Haworth Tompkins doing here? Have they got big plans? AG: [short explanation of Playgrounding: architectural process stretched over a long period of time, keeping the building open, working in small chunks rather than a large project]. In looking at these plans and talking to Tom (Morris) I have realised that some of them are very similar in terms of plans to improve flow through the building and visibility into the front of the building and improve the technology throughout the building. But also wanting to do it mainly through working with artists. For instance Steve talked quite a lot with Felix Barrett (Artistic Director of Punchdrunk) while they were making The Masque of the Red Death, enabling that show to happen in the building then had an effect on the plans for different spaces. We can walk around in a bit and we can talk about them. Can I ask you a bit about when you first came into BAC? I suppose I wanted to know about when I first talked to Tom (Morris) he talked about a few initial reactions to the building. I asked him how the relationship with Levitt Bernstein began and he said that they held a competition and that you submitted a design. I was wondering if you could remember your initial thoughts about the building, when you first walked in. AB: Uh, I cant remember, actually. I do remember where the interview took place. It took place in the art gallery up there. What I remember, the things I remember most were the sort of practical things. For instance the complete inability of anybody to be able to use the Grand Hall satisfactorily. Because it just didnt fit in with the front of the building at all and so hence the whole building operated quite intensively at the front here but it didnt operate intensively at the back which is where a huge amount of the space was. It just means that as a large building complex it was completely dysfunctional from that point of view. Its a wonderful old building really, a really grand building, not designed as a performing building obviously in the first place, but it is a fine building. And a lot of the things they had done in order to make it work for particularly the performing arts had
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actually denied the building. Like for instance the main hall, the old council chamber, where you go in and you dont realise, the old room has been sort of [AG: disappeared] well, tried to make it feel that it isnt there anymore, almost like an embarrassment. And the other little performance space, down there on the left hand side. AG: Studio 1 AB: Is it still there? AG: Yes AB: That was a very, very tricky space, shoehorned into a corner and hard to run as the relationship of the dressing rooms to the stage, how the audience got in and things like that, functional problems. And what one wanted to do was try to find ways of using the building which more naturally worked with the building rather than against it. And so that is the kind of approach we were looking at. Now just remember we were looking at the main space, the main auditorium, of completely reconfiguring it by opening it up as a big room again and having a big very simple bench bleacher seating in it. Steep banks of seating that people would sit on the steps rather than on chairs and make it into a space which was much more like a found space, but that was dependant on us having somewhere else in the building. Somewhere that could operate like a more conventional way, with a stage, with seats facing the stage. Hence we had this idea of breaking into the courtyard. The courtyard was the link between the front and the back and to enable us to do something which could actually take the pressure off the existing spaces. We were thinking about it from quite a functional point of view really, to make best use of the building. AG: So just so I know, when you went into that space, when you first saw it. It was black box with a rake in it. A permanent rake or a retractable rake? AB: I think it was a permanent rake. What is it now? AG: It is a retractable rake now, so possibly it was retractable then AB: But never retracted. Maybe they never bothered to retract it. Certainly whenever I saw it, it was always configured as an end stage. AG: So one of the things I dont really understand about the plans, timing wise, perhaps because they were different schemes, some of these I saw at the centre of the building an open, green caf, people walking around sort of area, and then in others I see this where you have the central studio. And I am just wondering at what point which came first, when that changed? AB: My memory is that this one[looks at plans]yes these two diagrams, these were earlier [reference to the Theatre Projects diagrams], not very much earlier but they were earlier. A more, fairly conventional gallery and studio theatre space, rectangular in form. But also the thing about this was that it was going to have glazed walls so instead of completely filling up the courtyard you would actually be able to see through the building and into the building. So the activity in here, when you wanted it to be visible it could be visible. These are all curtains you see, between the layers of glass. And so rather than forming yet another complete barrier in the building, because you have got the main stairs and then you have got a wall which is a barrier between the front and the back of the
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building. You have got something which was actually, which could be transparent if you wanted it to be. So the activity in this space could be visible to people in the building and so that was that one. I cant remember the reason why but we moved away from that to a rather smaller type of auditorium, which was this one, which gave us more space for activity in the centre of the building and so the idea of that was that people would permeate this wall here and actually lots of activities could take place around this central studio. So it became a hub of activity in the building. And as I said, building that would take pressure off the main house. AG: so this [main house] could become a more open space. AB: exactly AG: and that would be the black box studio. So would that have then been the courtyard still? AB: thats right AG: and that would have been open space, glassed over AB: And these walls were broken out so you could actually filter through into that courtyard and then also filter through the courtyard space to the back of the building where the Grand hall is. It is a way of linking this octagonal space which is the original foyer space for the Grand Hall to the front of the building. AG: so for instance here, just so I understand the plans, what would be in these gaps here? AB: Well we were trying to open up the front side as well because it provides a very closed aspect to the street. AG: I like this terrace with people on it. AB: Raise up the terrace and put a bar at the front so you could actually sit out on the street and you could at least see activity in the building, and put the bookshop in this corner. It was crucial, because if you are in the caf at the moment sitting down the level of the sills is virtually above your eye level and that seemed to be wrong to us. I mean whether we would have got this through planning is another matter. The idea was to make it much more permeable at the front of the building and much more permeable in the middle of the building whilst retaining all the main architectural features. Its not about taking anything out it is just a matter of taking an arch, like the arch behind us [underneath the main staircase] at the bottom of the stairs and punching through it. The arch would still be there so we werent actually destroying the original architecture. We were just manipulating it. AG: so these would have had, these gaps, would these have been glass infill? AB: the drawings give the impression of permeability. Whether they would actually have been windows or doors that is tomorrows decision. AG: and here [east and west front corridors], again, the idea would have been to keep the corridors open?
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AB: Open the sides of the corridors that is right [onto the courtyard]. AG: and whether that would have been by glass walls or windows or whatever that is AB: yes. AG: just so I understand the order properly. These plans show this wonderful garden in the centre of the building. A few different versions. Where I am assuming then later, or before?, the studio theatre was planned. I am just wondering which came first in terms of the plans for the centre of the building. AB: these were some time before [ref. To the garden plans]. It was all mixed up with lottery money. The whole basis of the scheme was mixed up with whether lottery money would become available or not. And the ambitions schemes were sort of a response to the ambitions of the people providing lottery money. Did you ask Tom about this? I think his attitude changed depending on the politics of the relationship between him and his landlord, whether they would help to provide enough cross- subsidy the extent to which we increased our ambitions. What he really wanted, he really wanted another performance space and these schemes, with garden in the middle, was a nice way of dealing with the building because it provided something else in the building which it hasnt got at the moment. Because if you look at that courtyard space its probably just as grotty as it was then, so this would have been a very nice thing to do. But it didnt provide much in the way of additional performing areas or variety. I think what he wanted was to be able to have a greater variety of spaces of performance. The trouble was what he had at the moment, then, were very little rooms, very inflexible, because the doors were in the wrong place, the relationship to the dressing rooms, all those sorts of things, the height, everything made them not flexible but restricted. And as I said about the main, the conversion of the council chamber, it was fundamentally just an end-stage room, and what he wanted was more informal spaces. And so one way of doing that would be to create an informal garden in the middle of the building which you could use for performance and the other was to create a performance space which was more purpose-built, so that it did things better. It was properly equipped, people faced the right way and were in comfortable seats and all that sort of thing, which took the pressure off the rest of the building so you could colonize the other parts of the building in a more informal way. It was this idea of colonization that we were keen to talk to him about. When we did the Royal Exchange theatre in Manchester basically it was this huge, great, inflexible old trading hall and we designed a building within it which was a bit like an act of piracy. It was taking over the space, which was almost an unwilling host, the main space. But it could take it because it was so big. And so there was a tremendous tension between the new space within this huge great hall and the old space. And that was part of the excitement the tension. And of course it was designed in a way that made it look as if it could be taken away at any day, it was camping in effect. So we were trying to pursue this idea of people being able to camp in spaces in the building, but that depended on having somewhere in the building that was well-equipped for the more conventional things. Most productions, touring productions, need a conventional space and thats a fact. AG: In terms of reflecting what you did at Manchester Exchange, with this central studio, Tom mentioned that at one point it was quite tall AB: This was a taller space yes. It was accentuated by these external stairs, ramps going up the outside of it.
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AG: And what would it have been clad in? What were the materials? AB: We hadnt got that far. It was going to be a very solid, geometric form. That was the idea. AG: I suppose I imagine that looking like a space ship, landing in the middle of the building. That being the thing that looked almost alien to the space AB: This glass box [reference to earlier Theatre Projects plans for central studio] would have been a more alien intrusion. That was the reason why it was transparent because the idea was it didnt actually block off the rest of the building. But the proportions of the other one were such that it was actually smaller in the space than the overall court, the overall central area this is going down memory lane! AG: I am quite interested in that sense of piracy of the space. You talk here about affirmation or denial of the existing character of the building and that by creating something that was so completely a studio space, very high-tech, you could then behave more flexibly towards the rest of the building The idea of creating a folly within a folly, is that a reference to the central studio? AB: hmm. Yes. [reading the document] ah yes, the piracy thing is mentioned here. AG: I suppose the idea of being in a space that wasnt intended as a theatre space to start with is quite important starting point in thinking about where you go with the building. AB: Well its always a dilemma because I think there is a tendency towards greater homogenisation in theatre spaces actually in this country. And one of the most interesting things about theatre design in th Britain in the second half o the 20 century was a result of a relatively well-funded repertory theatre movement. People, theatre companies owning their own theatres. If you own your own theatre you can have whatever theatre you want because you are designing for it and you are producing for it, you are choosing the plays for it, everything is done for your own theatre space and as a result it can be unconventional because its yours. Whereas if you are running a theatre space which is reliant on product that is brought in from other places in the country it almost inevitably has to conform to the lowest common denominator because the things which fit other spaces have got to fit your space. Put it the other way round, one of the problems the royal exchange theatre in Manchester always had is transferring to London. It has never been able to transfer to London the shows without completely for the London stages. The only time when they could dot hat was when they built a similar sort of stage in the Roundhouse in the 80s I suppose it was, or 90s. Or brought their temporary theatre down. So they have always had a real problem. That is symptomatic, because they can do what they want in their own theatre. So BAC does both, it brings people in to do things but it also produces things of its own, so it needs the unconventional spaces in which it can do unconventional things in the way it wants to do it, but it also need the relatively more conventional spaces. This is how we thought about it. In a way these are things which are too conventional but not operating very well in a conventional way, it was neither one thing nor the other, it was totally unsatisfactory. Do you understand? So this is the freedom you are given [referencing the central studio]. You are given the freedom by providing something that is a good box of tricks. You are given the freedom to actually appropriate the other spaces in the way that you want. Which is what this building should be about because it is almost like the arts centre is a tenant in the building, the building wasnt built for it. It should be transforming the building in lots of different ways. And it always has. It has had major art works in this foyer. It has had interesting productions taking up the whole building. And that sort of lightness, that sort of inventiveness, lightness on ones feet, is crucial. And so that is what we were
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trying to find a way of doing - a loosening up of the spaces so that people could use their imaginations in the way that they use them. AG: It does come back to that question that I keep running up against in most of the spaces I am looking at: the tension between whether you build something specific or something that is flexible and that a lot of people can use. I suppose that, quite a few spaces in BAC have suffered from a lack of brilliant technology and that need to be multi purpose. th AB: one of the great inventions of the latter part of the 20 century was the studio theatre, or the courtyard theatre I should say. The first one was probably the Cottesloe at the National, but that wasnt initially very flexible, or designed as a flexible space, but of course the National have huge resources so they can rip seats apart and put them back in different ways if they want to. And then the next one was the one we did at ?? which was the Wilde Theatre, which was much more adaptable, it was designed to take product: could be dance, could be music theatre, could be small- scale opera, could be converted into a small concert hall and it could do drama. And in an extreme version the flat floor could take a craft fair or something like that for the two weeks before Christmas. So that is a truly adaptable space. And there have been lots of others in that model which have been built since. But I think most people who run spaces like that find a difficulty in programming them because even if they are very, very easy to change around you still have t re-rig all the lights, for instance. Total flexibility is a complete mirage. It is much better to start with something that works extremely well for its purpose 90% of the time and try to make it more versatile. Otherwise you end up with the space that is capable at everything but good at nothing. Cassette 1 SIDE B AG: [whilst changing the cassette, asks about the idea of affirmation and denial of the existing building] AB: Taking an existing building which has a hugely powerful character, acknowledging that character, but being prepared to subvert it as well. Rather than just being totally in awe of it. It needed a good shake-up. AG: Rather than just painstaking AB: Not being too precious about it basically. But everybody can appreciate the beauty of this building in their own way, and you dont want to deny that. AG: When you were working on the Manchester Exchange and you say that it looked like it had sort of arrived in the space but could be taken out any day, a sort of alien object within that building. I read the famous article Michael Elliot wrote about it On not building for posterity and AB: Well, On not building for posterity, that was 1973 and the theatre wasnt open until 1976. AG: I sort of the thought the ideas were about AB: It was absolutely, completely pertinent to the construction of the building. It said something like when I was standing on the Waterloo Bridge looking at the concrete of the National Theatre appearing out of the ground, Is this the sort of the thing we should be doing now? Something like that. Because you see their attitude was, we are a group of people and we dont want to work in
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proscenium theatres. Anybody who wants to work in a proscenium theatre can. There are lots of them around. We are not going to deny them that opportunity by building something which we want to work in. That was their attitude. But of course they needed to be a producing theatre to do that. They needed the freedom to have a space of their own. That is my point you see. And it would be the same with the Haymarket Theatre in Leicester and a number of others. Lots of other theatres the Sheffield Crucible which is a thrust stage, very unconventional for its time, but it was a producing company. AG: Or the Stephen Joseph. I went to see a theatre in November in So Paulo called Teatro Oficina. AB: That is Lina Bo Bardi isnt it? AG: Yes. And there you get an artist who says this is the kind of theatre I want to make and this is the kind of space I need for it and the architect coming alongside. I read some of the plans and you get some that say things like walkway, not recommended by the architect in brackets. So she has drawn it on the plans because Ze Celso has said I want it to be like this. She has said well, I will put it on but I dont think AB: That is extraordinary, I didnt realise because it is a rather extraordinary its s street really isnt it? When was that, 80s? AG: I am still trying to piece it together because my Portuguese is really bad. AB: I think it was round about the 80s. AG: It was 83 they started working on it and didnt finish until 1993 and Lina Bo Bardi died in 1992. And they didnt actually do all that she planned to do. They built the front part but she had planned a whole stadium theatre at the back. AB: Yes, I have heard about that. I wondered how that fitted into the whole. AG: Yes, I have just been trying to piece together the chronology of it. And because everything on the website is written from they are very present people. So even the chronology is written almost in the present tense, but you dont really know when the present was that they were writing the chronology in. Makes it a bit complicated to back. So it is a sort of incomplete version of what she fully intended for the space, she meant to build almost like a passageway, a parade, the idea of carnival. And now it finishes, it has a solid wall at the back. But I think they have plans to change that. But there is a theatre with an artist at the heart of it, deciding what kind of space they want to work in. AB: I have never been there but the photographs I have seen make it look like it intended to look like something which is completely found, not intentional at all. Which is another very interesting thing. Because Peter Brooke has a very similar attitude in a way: the staid and conventional is a killer. AG: I feel like he goes in and delicately re-creates a sense of history in a space almost. AB: But he talks about dirty spaces doesnt he and about them being more exciting and I think that is absolutely true.
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AG: I think a space like the Curve in Leicester, havent been to see that yet but I am interested to see how that works, because I think there was a woman advising on that project who, as far as I understood, a lot of the drive for it came from her because she wanted to make something that allowed for procession. Because I think a lot of the theatrical culture in Leicester is based on AB: One of these Artistic Directors you mean AG: Yes, I cant remember her name AB: No, cant remember AG: But she was the artistic drive but I think she left just before the project ended, so it would be interesting to see now they have a space built for that, if they will actually find people to make work for it. AB: I am sure they will be writing their own history. I was actually involved in the feasibility studies of that theatre when this idea of what they call an inside out theatre was first mooted. And she wasnt around in any of those meetings, funnily enough, but I am sure she did have a lot of input. But I think it was partially, to tell you the truth, no, that is the wrong thing to say to tell you the truth I have a suspicion that it was partially to do with me, you know, that whole idea. Because I was, they were wondering what sort of that very point I made to you about producing theatres is that they can do something unconventional. I was saying I thought that what audiences were less interested in these days was the total separation of the audiences world from the actors world and that they find the process of putting productions on an interesting thing and I gave three examples of it. One was the Royal Exchange. You can go into that hall while having a fit up or a rehearsal and you know something is going on, ok, so you are not sitting in a seat watching maybe, but you go in and realise that this is a sort of factory for theatre. As well as a performances space. And it just makes it a much more interesting process. You go into have a cup of coffee there and something is going on in the main hall, you see the odd actor wandering around and things like that. And then I have been to Gothenburg. This is quite a superficial point but at Gothenburg they have got this opera house in the dock and as you walk around the opera house there is this huge great plate glass window into the scenery workshop, so you can actually watch people making the scenery. Its a very simple point. But why not? They can always draw a curtain. So those are two of them. I cant remember what the third was. And they sort of picked up on this and said well, Leicester has a tradition of being a great producing town, that is what its history has been based on. So why dont we make this a producing theatre[a couple inaudible words] so that people realise that theatre is being produced here? And not just going to see the productions. And that was kind of the origin of that process. So this whole business of what you are talking about, which is processions, that came after my involvement. But certainly that is very interesting because there is a huge Asian population there of course whose theatre is very different. AG: I think that is what they were thinking of accommodating. I suppose what I am interested in is that Tom Morris response to wanting to treat the spaces flexibly but still being able to accommodate for the production that come in to BAC, was to create more spaces, so more possibilities of different types of space to work in. I think that is what I didnt manage to understand when I talked to Tom was this: if you just create more types of spaces, that gives you more flexibility for what you do with some of them, so they dont all have to be black box spaces. Because he was talking about how it has to come from the artist. You have got to have the kind of space where an artist wants to work. And if
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you as a producer are saying I think this would be a good idea for this space you are already leaning on a bad elbow because you are not the person who is actually make the work in there. And he talked about how at the National you have a Pros arch, amphitheatre and the Cottesloe and they all go in and out of fashion. But it gives the artists options. And I suppose BAC is in a reasonably unique position in that it does have a lot of space, but at the same time is the answer to that need for flexibility or to accommodate for artists just to create endless new types of spaces as different things become they way the artist wants to work. I dont know. what is your response to that AB: Well, think of it in a slightly different way. Think of this building, which has always been under- funded, whatever they have done. This is an old council building that has got spaces which are suitable for when it was built 100 years ago and BAC has been, because they couldnt think of anything else to do with this old building which is no longer any good for the uses of the council, who probably built swanky new offices down the road, they handed it on to the arts. Saying here see what you can do with this. So it was always a struggle. I mean they are very grateful for having space, obviously, but it is always and uphill struggle to cope in a building which isnt designed specifically for what you want to do. Along comes the lottery money and you have got to remember, 1994 lottery act, so between 1995 and about 1998 or 1999 there was a very, incredibly small period in history which was they heyday of the Arts Council lottery funding when they were able to fund ambitious projects and so this was an opportunity that had never occurred before and has never occurred again, to actually make the building which they had inherited more fit for purpose. And so you have to think about the whole thought process in those terms. So you look at the spaces, and we are back to where we were before, you say well they have done their best here but its not good enough. So how can we make these spaces work better. Well, the council chamber really is a rather unfortunate mash up, maybe you say, and it has got beautiful windows with a beautiful view out but you cant see it. There are a lot of things about that room that could be better used. So you take the pressure off that room by providing something which is possibly more conventional but is actually built fit for purpose and to current standards somewhere else in the building. I think none of these drawings show conventional spaces but on the other hand they are well-equipped for what they are supposed to be doing. So that was the thought process. So actually it is a response to a particular, very, very small period of time. Looking back on it. AG: Definitely. Can I just check if I have anything I havent asked and then maybe we could walk around the building for a few minutes? AB: Sure. And also probably, the way they are thinking about it now, in a sort of incremental fashion, is also a function of the time that we are in at the moment. AG: Absolutely. A very different financial climate where the Arts Council come up with small packets of money over the course of a few years. AB: Exactly. AG: I think we talked about most of the things Oh, apart from you explaining maths to me! I was going to ask about Bury St. Edmunds. AB: That was a very different project. How can I start this? Theatre Projects, these theatre consultants, there is somebody who used to work with them, he is retired now, called Iain Mackintosh. He was always interested in proportional, in the proportion of one part of a theatre building to another. He felt that there was something which was inherently right about the proportion of stages to auditorium for instance. So he would always try to build in some sort of
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proportional system to the designs Theatre Projects were involved in. Coincidentally we did this design study with Theatre Projects for the Theatre Royal in 1997, 1987/88, even earlier. I was trying work out some very practical things about the theatre, about the original design. Like, where was the stage front originally? And so I try to put myself in the mind of the architect. The architect was William Wilkins who was a Maths don at Caius college until he married. So he graduated 5 wrangler th (sp?), so 5 best mathematician in his year at Cambridge. But he had also done the Grand Tour. So he had been and measure Greek temples and all that sort of stuff. He had written about proportion. So he was obviously, if one put himself in his mind if I am given a blank sheet of paper and I am starting to design a theatre and I have the implements you used to design buildings in those days, which were a T-square and set square and dividers and compasses. How do I go about it? All these proportion systems, which I discovered he had employed in that theatre are very easy to create geometrically using compasses and dividers. But also they are interesting mathematically, in the history of mathematics because they work geometrically but they dont work mathematically because if you take a square and the sides are one, the diagonal is not 2 or 3 or 6 1.5. It is 1.444 recurring. So it is not a proper number, it is an incommensurable number. I think that they always, throughout the history of mathematics, they could not work out there must be a secret to beauty, which isnt immediately obvious. Because we have all these incommensurable numbers and they produce these very clear geometrical forms. And then you have another strand where, for instance, something like the Fibernachi sequence is invented which is a series of numbers, each of which is the product of the addition of the two previous numbers. So it goes 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 and so on. So a very simple series of numbers. But what is so extraordinary about it is that the relationship between 5 and 8 and 8 and 13 and 13 and 21 is always about 1.616. which is the golden number. It is coincidence but it is always that. So it is not surprising that people used to think there is something magic here. These relationships, which you can create geometrically as well, there must some eternal beauty must be th built into this in some way. Not only that but the 12 number in the Fibernachi sequence is 144 which is 12x12 how amazing! Now a really good mathematician would be able to explain why that was perfectly obvious, but to lesser minds it seems like an extraordinarily wonderful fluke. In Renaissance times when architects once again became particularly interested in proportion, early renaissance architecture was a trade not a profession, it wasnt an art. The arts were geometry, mathematics, astrology and music. Painting and architecture were not arts. As these professions elevated themselves to the position of artists, they added theory to what they were doing. And the theory came from the other arts, it came from music, musical proportions. It is all a search for universal beauty. But what interested me was that it was also based on something incredibly practical which is, what do you do when you have got compasses and dividers and a pencil in your hand? AG: And so by mapping that onto a sheet of paper you established the original dimensions of AB: Exactly. If you have a square of which the sides are one, the diagonal is root 2. So when you talk about root 2, that is how it is arrived at. And so the relationship between the inside face of the galleries at Theatre Royal and the outer side of the galleries, is a root 2 relationship. He would have drawn a square, got his compasses, drawn a circle, taken the diagonal and drawn another circle and that would have been the outer and the inner set up. And they used to do this that was how cloisters in old cathedrals are often set up. AG: And do you agree with Iain that it makes for a better theatre space?
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AB: No, I am a sceptic I have to say, from that point of view. But I think it is a perfectly justifiable and plausible way for designing buildings. Everyone needs some way of deciding what to do. I think it is very valid from that point of view. AG: hmmthank you! The other thing I think is interesting about that space, after leaving Cambridge I trained as a director and I assistant directed on a play at Theatre Royal. So I spent quite a lot of time sitting in that auditorium and I did always think it is so lovely. AB: Have you been there since it was restored? AG: I was there in 2005. AB: Oh we have done a fantastic job on it since, it opened again in 2008. [some confusion ensues over dates] AG: One thing I always thought was that it must have felt quite different when they could fit so many more people inside it. AB: Ah, well that makes all the difference in the world. That is the other problem that we have nowadays. The whole live theatre is very dependent on its audience, without an audience there is no point in it and the audience is reaction is very important to it. And they fewer the people, the more difficult it is to get a very good audience reaction. As time has gone by, for various reasons, it has got more and more difficult to get as many people as close to the actor as they used to in the olden days. And that is a huge dilemma that we all face. There have been some huge mistakes where people have gone the wrong direction. But more and more theatres try very, very hard to solve this intimacy problem. One way is the Royal Exchange theatre, in the round, the fourth side has people so that gets you many, many more people and that is astonishingly intimate from that point of view. But if you take something like the Theatre Royal in Bury, designed for 780 people, it only has 350 now. Exactly the same size it ever was. But people have got bigger. I read recently that Norwegians are getting taller at the rate of 25mm every generation. And I think a lot of Americans are getting broader at the same rate! And then there is the fire officer, means of escape and all the things we didnt use to worry about in the old days, which just make it far more difficult to get a lot of people close to a stage. That is the killer. AG: And to each other AB: And to each other. And there is the business also of people not wanting to be so close to each other. It is a real problem and one of the biggest dilemmas for people in the theatre to try to generate that tremendous intimacy whilst getting the big numbers in. if you look at the way in which the Georgian theatre developed into the Victorian, or late Victorian theatre, the theatre of Matcham, you will see that the Georgian theatre model with its shallow balconies, with the invention of the cantilever, developed into theatres with very, very deep balconies and huge great ranks of seats. What Matcham and his ilk were trying to do was create that room at the front equivalent to the size of the Georgian rooms, just that it extended further back. So you had a few people that had that same experience, shared the room, but actually they got the numbers in by adding huge numbers of people who were in those nether regions of the theatre. He solved the problem. Of course by that point the actor had gone behind the proscenium as well which meant there was more space for the
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audience in front of the proscenium. But ever since then we have been trying to recapture the lost space. AG: And do you think that it is possible, given the advancements in our health and safety regulations? AB: I cant see how it will, we are all doing our best, but I just cant see how geometrically impossible to make up the lost ground really. AG: it was interesting walking around theatre spaces Steve Tompkins also went on this trip to Brazil, and seeing it from an architects point of view, who knows the regulations I dont, so I just look at something and think this is so wonderful, why dont we build like that?, and obviously a certain amount of pain from Steve knowing that he is not allowed to, he would never be allowed to do half the things that we saw, because of regulations. He would never be allowed to build that staircase without a break in the middle or have that many seats without an aisle this wide.. AB: So you went to Brazil? AG: In November, yes. It was amazing. [Short discussion of how Teatro Oficina visit came about, researching Teatro Oficina, organising the trip with British Council] Cassette 2 SIDE A [Walking around the space, sound quality very poor, mostly AG giving a tour] Cassette 2 SIDE B AB: The Icon gallery puts on only the work of contemporary artists, a lot of that work is challenging to the average man in the street. The gallery that they had before had a picture window into the gallery space so if you walked by you saw the art and thought Im not going in there. So when we planned the new gallery, the shop and the gallery were at the front. So they would go in and they might see the gallery and think why not? but it got them across the threshold. Then they found this friendly place where people were prepared to talk to them and there was a little bit of art and there was some inducement to go a bit further. So it got them into the building it got the interested and maybe not everyone, you cant win them all but maybe a few people found it less alienating and that is incredibly important. That is what we were talking about in those conversations about the front of the building. The front of the building, you take away that closedness, you open it up a bit, you put activities there, not threatening in any way, just normal activities and you find that people of a greater variety will start using the building in a more natural way. Thats the first step. AG: Im going to a conference tomorrow, Theatre Trust[Experiencing Theatres]
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Appendix 6 th Interview with Jude Kelly, South Bank Centre, 9 July 2009 Jude Kelly is currently Artistic Director of the South Bank Centre. She was the founder Artistic Director of BAC from 1980 and undertook a significant amount of conversion work on the building. She left BAC in 1985 to become the Artistic Director of the West Yorkshire Playhouse. Allegra So the questions I have for you are most going to be historical because there is not a huge amount left from the period when you were at BAC except for board papers and a few bits and pieces. So my first question is how did you arrivehow did you come to get the job at BAC and what attracted to you it in the first place? Jude Well it was advertised as the Founder Artistic Director of the Battersea Arts Centre which was going to be a new independent charitable trust. And I was then Artistic Director of Solent Peoples Theatre which was a touring community company. And all my career has been about place and how you give place meaning through arts. So I was interested, I sent away for the plans because it was about community revitalisation and when I got the plans and I realised how big the place was, how big and sprawling, I was fascinated. I went on the bus from Piccadilly because I had a meeting at the Arts Council, a number 19 bus I think from Piccadilly to Battersea and realised that as you were travelling on the bus the opportunity and poverty levels changed dramatically. So that the circumstances of Battersea were much more degraded than the circumstances of Piccadilly, obviously, but I mean so markedly and I though this is appalling. They showed me round Battersea and it was completely deserted and covered in dust. It had been an arts centre run by the local authority and then the Tories came in and they shut it down. And then there was a massive community campaign to keep it reopen it. And thats when there was a decision to establish an independent trust. When I went through the doors it was like the Marie Celeste because you could feel it was a place that had had life but had no life any longer. And the most important space for me, well there were two most important spaces, one was the place that was the caf because you could feel that with the right love and care it could be a just wonderful centre for artists and communities to meet. And the second was the Chamber which again like great places they contain their histories so this history of a democratic space in which debate was held about the future of that community in Battersea, I loved the resonance of a place like that. So I instantly thought yes Ill do this, hoping Ill get the job offered to me, because I felt I could populate it with ideas and that it was a natural place for community and artists to come together because I think a lot of these places have former histories, if you take the best quality of what their former history was you can carry on pursuing, within a slightly different frame, I suppose essentially what you would call democratic purpose or certainly the idea of congregation. And so then I got the job. I then looked at the building as a series of spaces that could have enormous flexibility and possibility and I created the bookshop, a really good bookshop, on the right hand side as you go in, it was a wonderful bookshop because there was no bookshop in the area at all. The caf which was thriving and made the caf have a cabaret space as well. So we always had jazz and late night comedy. A Did you build that stage? J Yes. I built the disabled darkroom, dont know thats probably not still there? A Upstairs?
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J No, it was next to box office. A No thats not still there. J It was a really important scheme for people with a disability to do photography. We won an award for disability because I built all the ramps and everything to do with making the spacethe disabled lift, that was all to do with the year of the disabled. I turned the downstairs space on the left had side in to another studio space. And through the doors on the right hand side in to a cinema. And we had childrens cinema and adults cinema, it was really thriving. Then the downstairs pottery we had three potters in residence. I dont know whether they still do have any of those things? A Some of them, the studio theatre. Not the pottery. I think they went when Paul Blackman came. J Shame. We had three potters in there, pottery classes, ceramics, ceramic artists. And I extended that to make them artist residency spaces. Then upstairs we built the bar which wasnt there before because it was all just gallery before which A Was that all one big space then? Or was it subdivided? J It was subdivided. Then there was the main chamber which when I was there I converted gradually in to a raked space. A So when you arrived did it have the old Council seating in it? J Yes. A And then you put a retractable rake in? J Is it retractable now? A Yes. J Yes I think I put that in. And then there was the Puppet Centre and then you went upstairs and we had silk screen artists, graphic artists A So a huge variety J Very mixed artform which is what I love, wasnt just theatre. For example, the studio on the left hand side we strong committed to dance. And then when I was there I also tried to, I drew up, I drew up plans as well A Did you? J To turn the back halls in to a used space with an atrium and everything. A Because they at that time were still being run by the Council and you were running J - there was a huge rowthey were very unsupportive
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A - ..were they doing anything with them? J No they had wrestling, occasionally, boxing, it was really underused. And I really wanted to use it. So I had these plans drawn up which included an atrium, they must be somewhere. It was politically a real problem. The woman who was then the arts officer for Wandsworth felt I was going to do her out of a job so she really fought a campaign to make sure it couldnt happen. And part of the business plan for investment would have been made so much easier with a much bigger space. And you could have made a much bigger impression in terms of celebration. We did this big outdoor festival on Mayday every year all the way down the side of the building, stalls and stages and everything, so as much as we could we did use the outside as well. But it was limited. A And also, in terms of the activity you want to do, a sense of division betweenthats a huge part of the buildings performative history and sense of occasion J But it was sort of dormant most of the time so it was great when Tom, no it wasnt Tom, David, got Punchdrunk to dothat worked.. A Got it opened up J But I think that, its a long time since I was there, 1985 I left, a long time. A - But you had your own theatre company there. The New Theatre Company? J That was towards the end. A And what was that about? J That was about creating very ordinary local community based theatre, that really ordinary very very local people could come to because they felt it was theres. And the kind of audiences that came to it were very different from those who might come to a touring fringe theatre show. Of course we got local audiences but local audiences from all different kinds of backgrounds. The working class black and white audiences didnt feel automatically bound in to fringe theatre at all. We did this show called Southside which had hip hop dancers and beat boxers that was in 1983 so it was really innovative. With local dancers. There werent that many mixed race cast shows at that time either. We did Aladdin as well, a pantomime. It was quite popular work a bit like Hackney Empires pantomime. A Do you think that the things that you started at Battersea in terms of community building around a space that you took that to West Yorkshire Playhouse, Royal Festival Hall, I mean you keep doing it J Yes, thats what my work is, thats what I believe is, as an artist, I think my art is about making this relationship between space, memory and community. A What do you mean by memory? J Peoples sense that a place can belong to them and that a place holds for them memories of when they were there and what happened to them. And just when you have when you have something quite problematic like when people say thats a space that I dont belong in thats a space I dont
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feelevery time you feel I am not part of that, I dont belong, thats a little chip in your heart, and if thats local to you then thats really terrible because its your neighbourhood but not that bit. Particularly when its a big civic space, its different when its a Polish club or something you think thats not necessarily my tribe but when its a big civic space and you say I dont belong there then I think thats a terrible indictment of the idea of generosity and equality. So yes all my work as an artist has been about creating interactive moments. And the architectural possibilities are key to that. So for example, the reason I have come here and would never go to the Barbican is because the architecture of this site is built completely permissively around the Festival of Britain concept of everybodys imagination counts, which makes it literally a space for transparent interaction whereas the Barbican, in my opinion, is built around a completely different notion of being impressive. And although the teams in the Barbican can do lots of things about inclusiveness you cant make the architecture speak of that. And I felt that Battersea Arts Centre also had very inclusive architecture. I think thats partly to do with that period, the Victorian period, although were very critical of some aspects of Victorian period its actually shot through with philanthropy and social purpose and you can feel that in the architecture. A It was about building a building big enough to represent the number of people living in Battersea at the time and that massive population and they felt they needed somewhere they could all be together and meet and represented the size of the community that was there. And I understand more now what Metal is because I hadnt managed to link that in my head to what you being Artistic Director of South Bank and what the connection is? J Well the connection is this space was built from a social philosophy and you have to recapture it. Thats your obligation I think. In a historical context your obligation is to pick up the ropes from the previous generation where they have laid down ideas struggled to change, and the obligation is to keep it going and I felt that this place had lost its connection with its past. A Do you think it did that when it went through its refurbishment process? J No, long before that. I think it went through it, an erosion ofbeing in the arts is not the same as having a philosophy, being in the arts is not the same as investigating the moral purpose not of the arts but the moral purpose behind sub diving the arts. The reason why taxation haswhy we have decided that as a society that the arts should be subsidised is to do with the human right to art, article 27 of the Human Rights Declaration so then you say well where are we evidencing that and what are the great strides were made that speak of those things and this was one of them. But I dont think it was talked about from theit wasnt talked about from when they pulled the Festival of Britain down which they did deliberately because the conservatives came in and they thought it was too much of a Labour project. Metal is looking at, the same thing really, weve taken possession of Edgehill station which is the oldest working station in the world in one of poorest communities in Europe and it will reopen in September, all the bits that were derelict as a working community artistic space. If you look up the history of Edgehill its where the first trains ever in the whole world left one. Stevensons Rocket left from Edgehill Station. You talk about the moment of propelling us in to the world of the modern age and there you have that incredible significance of the modern age and there you have a community thats one of the poorest in Europe. And I wanted to do something that was about recovering and starting new memories that were positive. In Southend which is Chalk Hall we are doing something slightly different which isits in a park, its a Grade II listed building in a park, a Georgian hall, using the hall as symbol of environmental connection because its in a park. Were working with Bill Dunster the architect and weve transformed it in to a carbon neutral space which is quite difficult to do with a Grade II listed space. Then were working with the gardeners and the
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community creating allotments and vegetable patches and got the restaurants to take the produce. I suppose what Im saying is that spaces have enormous meaning and some of them are really toxic. You have to do things to detoxify them. And if spaces were built with wonderful purpose then go back and find a purpose that is in alignment with it so thats what I was trying to do with Battersea. I mean its hard for otherpeople who dont share that particular passion they wouldnt see it in that light, theyd just think you were doing something to do with the arts but its more than that. A I think its interesting thatI like the idea that in a spaceI feel like over some of BACs history the space has been fought more than it should have been maybe J In Battersea? Yes absolutely A I mean you do fight a building no matter what youre doing in it, but I think taking more of the memory of the building and why it was built for and who it was built for and working more with that and less of trying to just turn it in to the thing that you want to do is probably a reallyworking with it in a much more powerful way. J Metal in London, which is asleep at the moment, where I started Metal from which I think is still on the website is an old railway ticket office in West Hampstead. I walked in there and it hadnt been used as a ticket office for years. There was a metal worker in there whod been there for 50 years. As soon as I walked in I knew that it was this incredible space and in your memory you can see all the people arriving to buy a ticket. And you can see what an intense community experience when trains had just been invented. Where are you going? Im going to so and so the idea of sharing stories, its so potent. And Cedric Price was a great friend of mine, the architect, do you know?... A No I dont. J - Oh well you must, you must read Cedrics work. You will be so happy to have discovered him. Sadly he died a couple of years ago. He was a wonderful wonderful man. We were talking about that space. And he said you must divide the space by light. Thats both a physical and meta-physical statement. Defining the space by light is a really powerful thought about all kinds of things. A Louis Cane is the other architect I have heard who think like that in terms of the light and temperature of the space. J Yes so when I was at Battersea I deeply loved the building and I still do but of course once you leave youbecause you cant, you cant have it both ways, you cant leave and also feel possessive, because its just unacceptable, so you just have to stand by and watch other people do what they were going to do. And I think that David and now the Davids who the people who are in touch with what I was talking about too. A David did say of all the people whod been artistic directors since you came he felt closest in terms of what he hoped to achieve in the building to what you had been trying to do. J Yes, thats true. So I have great respect for him and what hesand then again because hes working from intuition and the values hes gothes not got a kind of grand projet and going well this is what I feel like doing..
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A This is how Im going to fit it in. It is more responsive to the actual building. David once told me about you had Michael Vale come in at the last moment of the Royal Festival Hall being refurbished and asked him to sort of put an artist eye and I just wanted to ask you quickly about bringing an artist in to a process like that and what that means and why you would do that? J Really important I think toarchitects dont necessarily see people in the space. I know they think they do. But I am not sure they do. And artists are always about paradigm shifts and youve got to find ways of leaving enough opportunity for those shifts, those reinventions of space, those rearticulating of space to happen and if youve bound their feet in some ways as spaces, sometimes you cant do that. So it is about leaving boltholes for the imagination to go in to and be a virus. A Thank you.
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Appendix 7 th Interview David Micklem, Battersea Arts Centre, 19 June 2009 David Micklem was Executive Director at BAC from May 2007 to March 2008, covering Rosie Hunters maternity leave. He became Joint Artistic Director of BAC, partnering David Jubb, in April 2008. Prior to that he was Senior Theatre Officer of the Arts Council England working at the national office. Allegra - Could you describe your perception of BAC before you arrived, and where you came from? David - My history with BAC goes back probably to the late nineties when I first started work with David Jubb who was the only producer here at BAC when Tom Morris was Artistic Director. He and I worked on a couple projects when I was at the Arts Council, as a funder, and with him as a producer. And even in those early days there was really a synergy between the kind of work that he liked and the kind of work that I liked. Two of the projects that we really coalesced around were David Gales I am Dandy which I think David [Jubb] took to the Edinburgh fringe in 2000 or 2001, then his work with Ridiculusmus who I have always been a fan of. So I was working at the national office of the Arts Council as Senior Theatre Officer and my chief role at that stage was looking after the National Touring Programme, so supporting artists and producers to distribute their work nationally and internationally. Very quickly David became a trusted client of the Arts Council. So even though there was no formal relationship, whenever there was an application from David about the projects he wanted to develop I took notice and felt it was worth trying to find a way to support. I have always been drawn to BAC as an institution because of the building and because of the focus David and Jude and Tom have always placed around the producer and what the producer can do to help bridge the links between the artist and the audience. So I always felt there was a powerful magnet at the top of Lavender Hill drawing me this way. So I worked for the Arts council for almost six years and I have got to say I had a ball. I was there at a very good period of growth, 2001 to 2007. I arrive in the first year in the major increase in theatre funding that ACE had at its disposal. I came into an organisation that was in a position to be quite bold: there is some good work happening over there, lets put some resource behind it, lets nurture them and grow them. I had clients, I had a number of companies I was the lead officer for, companies like Forced Entertainment, Complicite, Improbable. I had the National Touring Programme budget of 14 million per year and I had managed funds, which are basically funds which you decide how they should be spent. In my first year I had around 900,000 of managed funds. So I was in quite a significant position of authority and it was a great time to be there. There was lots of room to make things happen. I could be a bit of a producer. I had a fantastic boss in Nicola Thorold, who is now on our [BACs] board, Head of Theatre for that time. But after five years lots of those resources had been stripped away. I no longer had the clients, the National Touring Programme was delegated to the regions. A - What happened to the clients? Did that relationship change structurally? D - Yes, clients also went to the regions, so Forced Entertainment went to the Yorkshire office, Improbable to the London office and so on. So I had no clients, no National Touring budget and in my final year I had no managed funds. So I became a report writer. There was a wonderful coincidence when I had David ringing me to say Rosie [Hunter] is going on maternity leave, do you fancy making
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an application to BAC? and my thinking I have got to get out of the Arts council now, I have done my job. A - Can you explain the changes in the Arts Council? D - It was a change in the relationship between the national and the regional offices. It is always changing, which is the frustrating thing. Back in the mid nineties there were ten regional arts boards and then there was the national arts council. And the national council looked after all the national clients, so the national touring companies and the National Theatre, ROH. The regional arts boards looked after all the regional clients. And the Arts Council granted the regional boards funds but there was no formal relationship between them. Then the year I joined there was a merger, all the regional arts boards became one Arts Council and the power of the national office began slowly to dribble away. When I started working at there they had a staff of fourteen and now there are two, and they are just report writers. The national office is the strategic body. They dont have any funds, they dont have any clients. So a significant change. The other connection between me and BAC is in my final year a teamed up with Roanne Dods, the Director of the Jerwood Foundation, who like me had a similar passion for wanting to shine a light on the role of the producer and we talked about a number of interventions we might make together to raise the profile of the producer. And I guess the most practical outcome of that was this book, The Producers, which we co-commissioned and published in 2007. Of course David Jubb was chapter four or five of that book. Again that was another chance for me to reconnect with David and get under the skin of his thinking and his philosophy. And again that just further cemented the sense that we had very similar outlook on the world, on what theatre is and what it could be. We both shared an anger about certain kinds of theatre, which probably got too much of the subsidy and the attention for too long. A - That is actually related to my next question, probably also linked to why you came to BAC, which is what do you think is important about theatre, why you make it and who do you think it is for? D - This is all going to sound very bombastic, but I think theatre can change peoples lives, I genuinely do. It certainly changed mine. And it continues to do so, even as I get older, I think it has a transformative power, as does music, as does visual arts, as does opera for some people. But for me I think theatre has the most transformative power. And I think it can transform anybody. Whether youre 2 or 102, from a very poor background, or youve had the most extraordinary education actually theatre can have a transformative power. And I want to reclaim theatre as a term that doesnt mean well educated middle class white people putting on ties and buying gin & tonic and going out and seeing something cerebral and complex. It is that but it is also about having a shared experience which is profound and moving and theatre whilst it can be a play but it can also be a one on one performance. It can even be a wedding, I think some of the most theatrical experiences Ive had have been peoples weddings where theyve really thought about narrative and journey and story. So Im really excited about that notion that we might reclaim that notion of theatre so that 14 year old down the road in ten years time says yeh yeh Im going to my local theatre to Beatbox, or kickbox, or push weights or whatever it is: a theatre is a place where people come together to have an extraordinary and creative experience. Yes very keen to reclaim theatre because I think it has, in this bubble theatre means something very different to the man on the 37 bus which is gin & tonics and nodding off a bit
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A - Yes, I re-read that opening page of 2005 OctoberFest Is Theatre Any Good? and the responses of people when David was walking up and down saying so what do you think theatre islots of people sleeping at the same time Shakespeare D Yes. Again you will have heard this from the other David is the thing that really unites us in our love of theatre is about the role of the audience, the centrality of the participant in the work. A How did you come to that? You worked at the Arts Council and you named some of the people who were your clients like Forced Entertainment and obviously companies that probably put quite a strong emphasis on that. And was it from seeing that kind of work or how did you come D Yes. I was the Senior Theatre Officer and I was the lead officer for contemporary performance so I was charged with developing strategies and supporting work that was that would be defined as contemporary performance. So that was experimental devised physical theatre, street arts, outdoor performance, circus, puppetry, so I was providing the policy lead for all that work. And over five years I really developed a taste for that stuff, you know I travelled extensively, I saw a lot of work in unusual spaces, and saw what it could do to people which isnt about people falling asleep together A Did you have a moment where you went ah, was there a first time, or a was it a series of different performances, is there anything you can remember D The thing I am most proud of is the Elephant in that I played a pivotal role in bringing it over and then became Associate Producer working with Artichoke to bring it to the UK and to bring it to London. In watching peoples response to that project in Nantes in France when I first saw it and watching it again in London and seeing peoples response you know it was an extraordinary work of art. What was most extraordinary about it is that you were in a group of ten thousand people, one hundred thousand people, a million people on a Sunday witnessing something together, talking to the person next to you who youd never met who was standing next to you. There was a wonderful story that somebody told me watching the elephant. They were watching the finale and a man picked up this womans daughter and put her daughter on his shoulders and they watched the finale together and only then did she turn to this man and realise she didnt know him. And you know to be in London where were all fearful of paedophiles and terrorism and all these terrible happening to have that experience that makes you drop your guard and relish each others humanity is I think profound and unbeatable. Sometimes rock concerts do that to people too, big public moments that are spectacular theatrical moments, for me it is that kind of work that really reminded me the role the audience can play in that work. A You say you saw a work in a lot of unusual spaces and this brings us on to a question about spaces. Was there a point when you realised that maybe that relationship with the audience that a significant part of that had to do with the kind of space you were in? D Definitely. I think partly for thee presentation in that different spaces can add another character in performance whereas black box theatre spaces tend to be an absence of character, its all about whats happening on stage and the audience, its not about the room playing a role. But I think its also important in the making work. As you know, this gaff makes a lot of work and I think the DNA of these walls often ends up in the work that you then see on a stage in Sydney Australia three years after the work has bubbled out of BAC. I think architecture informs work, informs the making process and Im kind of excited about that too. I think sterile performance environments often create sterile work.
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A Thats reminded me about you talk about Kneehighs work. D Yes very much. I think the work thats least successful that Kneehigh have done is the work that they have never made a second of in Gorran Haven. But actually Tristan Yseult when I saw it in Sydney you know you can smell the sea even though its twelve thousand miles away and two and a half years since they first made it theres still something of the dust of those barns that still inhabits the work. So yes, Im really interested in that notion that the two way process that artists pick up the part of the DNA of the building and the building picks it up from the work. You walk around this building and the traces of Masque of the Red Death or Don John are very evident. I like that notion that the building is putting on other clothes over a history and one day we might pull back some of those clothes and have a look underneath them and say oh, look theres 1927 [1927 is a theatre companys name] A I think it would be lovely to have one wall which is rainbow like with the layers. D You could be like an archaeologist and chip through A - Leave a strip of each with a tag at the bottom D And in a hundred years all the rooms would be much smaller they would have accreted all these other layers. A I suppose that brings us on to this building and were what working on in the building. Just to start could you describe to me what Playgrounding is? D Playgrounding is an artist centred approach that examines architecture and theatre through playing space. Thats probably not as clear as I can make it. Its a process of collaboration between st artists and an architect in our example here to discover a 21 century arts centre in a former municipal building, Town Hall, and its playful, defined by playfulness, and the notions of discovery and mistake, I really love the notions of mistake. I went to talk that Grayson Perry was giving, the visual artist and he was saying that in his studio he has a bin and around the bin he has etched creativity is mistakes. I just love that notion. The whole notion of Scratch is about making mistakes in public. And people going what or that bits good and that feeds the work and accretes. My understanding of Playgrounding is that its a process that encourages artists to take risks and make mistakes and make huge discoveries by exploring their practice in three dimensions working with an architect to explore the building. A As its been going through this process, I suppose what youre talking about is, also significantly is a timescale, and quite a longer timescale that would be considered for an architectural process. Could you talk a bit about trying to marry a theatrical timescale and an architectural timescale. D I think this is a process that will never end. I think thats a real positive. I remember talking to Steve, he doesnt remember this, but in about 1999, no probably 2000 after the Royal Court had opened and he was talking about how theyd done some work to the Royal Court but that it was just a moment on a line of what further iterations of that building must be and I guess whilst we think of st th ourselves being on a five year process to create a 21 century theatre in a 19 century Town Hall the end of that five year period will just be a moment in time whether its David and I or other people I hope we will continue that exploration that sense of play. Dont know if youve had a chance to look
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at the first floor rooms? They are without doubt aesthetically beautiful, clean surfaces, stripped floors, brilliant for Andrews Events team, if I had one anxiety its that theyre finished. If I was going in as an artist I think I would probably ask somebody before I screwed something to the floor or painted a bit of wall. Whereas in this room which is clearly in the process of evolution of change Id risk it, Id make that intervention, and I am sure we will find a way of working with our Production and Premises team to get them to understand that whilst its beautiful now it will be even more beautiful when Felix Barrett, or Emma Rice or Tassos Stevens make some changes to those spaces. I think one of the inherent push and pulls of this Playgrounding process is that its got to work for artists but its also got to work for our Events team. You know our Events team have got a significant income target to hit every year, much easier to hit it now with perfect sanded floors, perfect clean magnolia walls. Again David and I were talking about this the other day, theres a bit of us that thinks we could actually make more money out of those spaces if an artist went in and made changes to them which werent about neutrality, which werent about steady state. You remember that bit of the exposed ceiling in the A I was so sad that it was gone. D Me too, that was the most exciting bit about the space. And my heart sunk when I saw it had gone. Of course it had to go because its very hard for Andrew to sell that room to anybody when it just looks like a flood. But like you I am so wedded to it because it makes the room have a personality, it tells a story and it tells whatever story you want to give it, it could be about a flood, and thats now gone, thats now been covered up. A The push pull between the Events and the Theatre side which is a business pull which has always been there in the organisation particularly with the Grand Hall which has always been there but theres also inside the Theatre team theres a desire to preserve elements of the past and the ghosts but then theres also, I know weve had discussions where artists have just said I just want it clean. I remember those shell doors, the fight to keep them. D Again I am sure she wouldnt mind me saying this but I had a lot of very feisty conversations with Emma Rice when she was here with Don John about the foyer. Because to her as an artist the foyer is a hangover from Masque of the Red Death. And she wants when Don John is here for Don John to infect the rest of the building in the was that Masque of the Red Death did the year before that. And so there were lots of conversations where she wanted to paint all of these walls the magnolia colour. A Why did she want to do that? D I think not because she had a better or stronger visual aesthetic in mind but because she wanted to eradicate the sense or presence of that other show. We were having a conversation this morning at Arts Admin all about sustainability and climate change and how theatre has got a long way to go before it even makes first moves to becoming much more sustainable and we talked about recycling and the reason why people dont recycle sets is because of ego, its because of designer, its almost the last thing they would do. They would sell their grandchildren before they said yes, Ill use that flat and that window in my set because then its not really feeling like its their work. I think Emmas feeling about the foyer was similar. While she didnt have a strong feeling about what it should be in the world of the show she definitely had a strong feeling that it shouldnt be the world of the previous show.
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A Great artists are so often control freaks wanting to manage every year. I often wonder why costumiers keep costume cupboards. Because they will go in to it and nothing will be quite right and they will make everything from scratch. Like a good costume they would be see as being one that was made, fresh, new, different, from anything else before. Well done for keeping it. D We reached an agreement that wed give her that wall and then were exiting the world of Don John. So were going back in to an arts centre that has enough a life. But yes its tough, I think that is one of the tough things about Playgrounding there is that artistic desire, as visual artists do, to start with a blank canvass. And were not doing that. Were saying that this is a canvass tons of paintings on it already and we just want you to leave another one. A Do you think there is a challenge there, if were not providing a blank canvass, is BAC as a producer making too many decisions for the artist. D I think if an artist felt that then were probably not thee right organisation for an artist to work with. If an artist wants to come in a to a perfect black box white space whatever it is and develop a clean piece of work then were not the right context. Its not being pejorative about their work. Its just not harmonious. In the same way that if an artist doesnt really get Scratch. I wont mention names but I know some directors who will come to first day of rehearsals with a book like this and its th Monday 18 June and today its 10am and were going to do this and this and this and you guys are going to stand there and Im going to get you guys to do all that sound stuff and were going to break for lunch between 2 and 2.15 and you know the show is already made. And that is a brilliant way of making work. Like a Katie Mitchell way of making work. And the work is brilliant. But we couldnt make that work here. Because we dont work like that. We want, as Emma Rice does, first day of rehearsals, lets play some music, lets have a dance, youve seen it down in Gorran Haven, it can feel quite chaotic, it can feel quite oxygenated that everybodys got stuff to throw in and then she begins to tease out the story. I guess the parallel Id like to quickly draw there is when decisions are taken, when decisions are made, again not being pejorative but Katie Mitchell tends to make all her decisions in the homework stage in the pre-rehearsal stage and I guess the polar opposite of that who is Emma Rice who makes lots of decisions very late and who pumps lots of oxygen in to the process to ensure those decisions can be taken late. And I guess in terms of architecture were really keen to follow that process where we dont lock down decisions and go right its like that, lets do it, lets commit and in fact with Don John as you know we went through three iterations of a seating format, or two before we came to the third one which was the right one. And we probably spent thousands of pounds, probably tens of thousands of pounds in consultants time working up schemes that we didnt go with. I think thats absolutely valid. I think we ended up with the right solution but we only ended up with the right solution by going down some of the wrong routes first. And some of that thinking will benefit us in the longer term because we may well return to some of those other solutions but a standard architectural process would have locked down that asymmetrical design and said right, nobodys going to change their mind, great lets go for it, lets commission the build, lets commission the contractors, lets go for it. And we would all have been sitting there on the opening night thinking why did we do it like this, this isnt quite right. A Can you talk a bit about the A-M process architecturally and what kind of challenges you think Playgrounding poses to that? D I think the fundamental challenge of the process of Playgrounding is that it requires a complete re-write of the given received wisdom about how you run an architectural process. In that it says,
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keep A-B, make A-B very very long, keep going back to A and B, when youre at C and D maybe go back.. A Thats the main thing isnt it that A stays longer but even more crucially that you find ways of looping. D Yes and actually because we have a multi-phase project it enables you to do that. Youre not taking the whole building, the whole ten million pound project and saying lets move it all to D, all on board yup, right lets go to E what were actually saying is that well do the Grand Hall so lets go to D with that, and going to D with that will help inform some of the A and B thinking around the rest of the building. A One more question. The conversation with Axel and Tom Morris made me realise how significant, I mean Axel said You cannot underestimate how significant it was that the plans we were making occurred within that window of time in which the lottery funding was there and he said they were very tied to that period of time. And I thought it was interesting from your point of view as both an Artistic Director here at BAC and an ex-Arts Council officer what your view is on that of Arts Council funding provoking a project. Its a bit chicken and egg I suppose. D Are you saying that Axel would not have developed this had it not been for the climate A I think Tom Morris wanted to do something anyway, he wanted to work on the building and because of his wavelength in theatre fought the building perhaps more than we do and it didnt have everything he wanted it to have but for instance, this interior courtyard Tom Morris right from the beginning, Ive read an interview from when he first became Artistic Director at BAC wanted to do a garden in the heart of the building something to draw people in and then suddenly in the space of six months to a year that went from being a garden to being, I mean this was really tall, it was like a gherkin like insertion in to the middle of the building with this glass roof and a spiral staircase on the outside, aluminium coated studio theatre with rehearsal space, I mean just incredible sort of thing and I think Tom would possibly never have done that if there hadnt been, Tom said he was encouraged to think D think bigger and bigger. And thank god it didnt get built. The problem with places like The Public in West Bromwich did get built and people sort of said its a blank cheque you know, keep designing, go for your wildest dreams, West Bromwich is a depressed part of England, it needs something to celebrate something to have fun with and theyve ended up with a building a fifty million pound project that is fast approaching closure that isnt wanted by the arts community that isnt wanted by the local community. So yes, the Arts Council and its capital lottery money has a lot to answer for in terms of pumping too much expectation around buildings. In many way were lucky, this sounds like a masochistic thing to say, but were lucky in that were not in a period when theres huge amounts of lottery money floating around because it feels like Playgrounding and the notion that weve developed is true to the spirit of what we want to do rather than being influenced by pots of cash of there. We will come up with a project that feels right for the building that feels right for the people that use it, and that will have a number attached to it and then well go and find that money, rather than the Arts Council saying BAC, ten million, twenty million, or fifty million and then you start to go wow, maybe we should have a five story gherkin in the middle of the building. So I think were not in a period of great excess. Again another thing you will have heard David talk about and I fundamentally agree with him is that the more time we spend at A and B discussing and developing a relationship with our architectural partners and having an idea then having a better idea then a
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brilliant idea the less money well spend when we do the big F to N bit the actual commissioning and delivering. Because we have had all those fantastic ideas and then destroyed them in the fantasy period of the architectural process rather than in the real build process where you suddenly go oh, thats very big isnt it, and expensive so yes it feels good that were in a position where we should be able to fit the resources to the project rather than the project to the resources. I do sound like a masochist. I think it would be terrible if it was now 1995 to be saying to our Arts Council officer Nick Williams what sort of level should BAC come in at? and him or whoever it was then saying think about ten million or think about fifteen million because as soon as somebody has said that you work to that and its not long before it becomes twenty-five million. A Its very hard not to think within the financial parameters of the time in which you are. D I am a great believer from having been on the other side of the Arts Council of great ideas always always always get everything, they get attention they get the money they get the press they get the audience, whether its Masque of the Red Death or whether, this probably sounds arrogant, or its the building project were embarking on, or its the next brilliant idea that we have or its things that other people are doing, good ideas, or its the Elephant, the Elephant required an unprecedented money from the Arts Council in one chunk for a foreign company to do a piece of work in London. I mean there were lots of reasons why it shouldnt have happened. But ultimately it was a fucking brilliant brilliant idea. And so the money was never going to be a problem really. I mean it was a problem and it would took a lot negotiation to make it happen. But I have a great confidence that because of the purity of this process that David and Steve first developed and now Ive sort of taken and helped develop further because it feels so principled I supposed and well thought through whether it takes five years or seven years or three years were going to do it because its strong, its really strong. I think it will be great for this building and I think it will be great for other arts projects to think more holistically about how they engage with users of the building, your phrase about human centred design process actually feed something like an arts build project or like a hospital or school project. Wouldnt it be great if every new building was built like this?
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Appendix 8 th Interview Steve Tompkins, at his home in Hampstead, 19 June 2009 Steve Tompkins is a co-director, with Graham Haworth, of Haworth Tompkins Architects. He has been working with BAC since September 2006. The company was formed in 1991 and has designed work for clients across the public, private and subsidised sectors including schools, galleries, theatres, housing, offices, shops and factories. Allegra You know what playgrounding is right? Steve (Laugh) A I know what you think playgrounding is, that sort of stuff? S Yeah, yeah, yeah A So, What Ive ended up doing for the dissertation, maybe Ill just give you a little bit, its not very long, but um Its about how architecture relates to theatre. Its a chronological look at it, but taking the BAC as a specific example, because the BAC has had a number of architects involved with it, so many different approaches to it over the years, it sort of acts like a nice small picture of how our approach to theatre space has changed. In particular, obviously, the Levitt Bernstein project because that was the most developed before you came S Was there another one? A Not another big project, but it seems that when I look into it, BAC has always had an architect. It just kind of S Oh, thats interesting A - Its just kind of an ongoing, so as you go back through the board papers, half the redevelopment, 1983-84, oh 87, then there was one in 85, then 87, 91, 1995-96, so its just kind of continuous and ongoing. Which I think is an interesting thing about that building anyway, but ermbecause its a conversion, its just always had people tinkering with it. Ermbut obviously the major examples are Levitt Bernstein and you guys, but mainly just looking at how we have approached theatre space and so getting to a point where it says where we are now in our approach to theatre space. S Yep, ok A Thats kind of it. S OK, great. A Gooderm, so my question, it starts with, could you describe the beginning of your relationship with the BAC, I think it was Nick Starr who introduced you to David? S Yeah, Ive been working with Nick Starr for probably ten years, starting with the temporary Almeida project, he was the executive director of the Almeida, the Gainsborough studios and the
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Kings Cross projects, and that was great, formed a really fantastic relationship with Nick. A very sort of light footed, very trusting, straightforward, very informal, cutting through a lot of red tape, cutting through a lot of the, sort of, accepted procedure to get things done. Mainly because they were such quick projects, well they werent like architecture projects, they were much more like set builds, right from the outset youre working within a different set of expectations, different timescales. Like Gainsborough I think was seventeen weeks from phone call to open night, so everything had to happen within that space of time so there was no room for any sort of design stages, so there was no room for sign off, in an sense was no room to make any decision more than once, straightforwardly and there was this sort of headlong, constantly trying to trim the process so it stayed aerodynamically stable. It doesnt just hit deck at any particular moment and we were negotiating with the leases, we didnt own most of the site until right at the last second, we didnt have enough money to employ or make contractors so we did it with theatre people A I read that yeah S - so it was, it was built with freelance chippies, Kevin Fitzmaurice, was Nicks assistant, and driving around looking for raw materials and ringing up and trying to get carpenters at the last minute so it was very, very direct, completely unconventional, not a conventionally professional relationship at all and that kind of set the tone because we had cut our teeth on small, exciting projects, where we had complete autonomy, complete trust. And then Nick asked me to do the National Theatre studio, which again was great and then after that the National itself through a much more formal selection process. And in the meantime, through his chairmanship at the BAC, I think recognised that there would be a good, sort of, psychologically profiled bid between me and David Jubb and so it proved to be. It sort of heated up from the word go and we got excited about the same things and had the same references and understood building, I think, in a very similar way, which was as a sort of quarry of existential raw materials rather than a problem that needs to be somehow solved A Yeah S - and therefore, I think the process of working on the BAC has been much more about keeping the signals current and buoyant rather than trying to wrench it into some sort of national alternative version of where the problem, in inverted commas, has been solved by professionals, quite the opposite in a way A Its interesting that you that, ermbecause the first thing that Tom Morris said to me when I started talking to him was that, he actually said that it was a problem, that there was a problem at the heart of the BAC and, no sorry the word he used was broken which is actually better than problem, but he did say it was a problem, that there was a brokenness about the building, which they were trying to rescue which, obviously is something S I see it almost as the opposite, I think its sort of a rich, deep, supple, flexible beast that you go and tickle and A - see what comes up S - but you dont, you can never really tame it, because it is what it is and its such a strong flavour, such a strong animal, that it would be pointless to try and wrench it into a conversion of itself, it would just
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A Trying to change what it is S - youd somehow neuter it, and I think that our instinct has been to embrace whatever is problematic about building in conventional terms and turn it into something exciting because actually thats what artists tend to grip on. They will always focus in straight into whats problematic, whats difficult and whats complex and whats broken in that sense and thats the (wells grip?) of their creative response or their creative engagement with the building and so for the architect to come along at great expense and to iron that all smooth is evidently counter productive under those terms. A And so that is, I suppose for an architect, that is a thing unique to working in a theatre and arts space? S I think it is in some ways, I think it is, I dont think there is any other brief where its actively advantageous to leave the building somehow recalcitrant, somehow unyielding, but nevertheless strong and capable of being engaged with. You know even a cinema is different, a school of art is different, even a music space is different because the extent to which the artist engages with space is so much more shallow under the terms of that conversation. You know with theatre space, the space is intrinsic to the process, is intrinsic to the experience. A And when did that become obvious to you? Because the sentence you just said is not necessarily obvious to a lot of theatre makers even, I mean now more so maybe than ten or fifteen years ago, but in terms of your S Well the sort of guest that one would make at the BAC, I think would probably be a self selecting process anyway because the artists that are going to be interested in working at BAC are going to want to have their own autonomy with it, theyre going to want to have their own independent and, to a greater or lesser extent, untrammelled relationship with the space, with all its difficulty and all its layers of memory and history and politics. A I suppose in some way that artists who approach work through the scratch process will self select S Will self select so there is an automatic netting procedure where you will end up with a constituency of artists who are predisposed towards that and so you want to leave as many options open as possible. A When did you start, what was the first that you worked on? S Royal Court A Royal Court S Easy ones first (Laugh) A I watched that programme of you, you know the BBC one? S Oh, the Omnibus
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A The Omnibus S Yeah, Yeah A Yeah, and it was really fun, you were saying I think the seats should be like a Rothko painting (Laugh) which I thought was a brilliant moment. (Laughter) S Oh yeah, there are lots of brilliantly embarrassing moments. A Yeah and somebody next to you, you going You know Rothko? and the person next to you just going what S uh huhno (Laughter) S Moving on. A - Yeah, I suppose what Im trying to understand is when did your understanding of theatre develop to the point where you would work the way youre working at the BAC with artists? S I dont know, I think probably its always been in me, I mean the reaction to the Royal Court was, I guess fairly particular in that its, you know you can treat it very roughly but theres a sort of archaeological narrative which in some ways is going to give the building substance and probity in a way that doing that sort of more conventional, more oppositional new versus old, that sort of tired clich of architecture, of refurbishment where A Bring in the old thing S Yeah, and theres a kind of uninterrogated assumption that the architect will do something which is kind of slippery and so called contemporary, offered in radical juxtaposition to something which is kind of old, therefore implicitly obsolete or no longer potent whereas my reaction was the opposite, its actually a glomeration, the accretion of cultural raw materials and memory, which is the thing that is precious. Which is the thing to be extrapolated and treasured and somehow commandeered for artists to engage with. That, that seems to be something, thats the gift of working with old buildings because they have those intersecting narratives. A they bring you so much to start with. S Yes, they are there to be uncovered, ignored, or kicked or abused or loved, but the point is that the choice is there for the artist and you dont lock that off by somehow bracketing it as redundant material or simply an aesthetic prop to your own new invention. Does that make sense?
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A No it does, in terms of what a lot of people have done in old building, you do get a sense theyve kept the brick wall, like walking past a glass cabinet in a museum S Yes and they have somehow fetishised it or locked it off A So its not actually part of the functioning building S - its no longer current, its no longer vital, its somehow been neutralised. A When you first came to BAC I suppose the first major document was Fuzzy Logic, a beginning of thinking about what Playgrounding was. S Yes, like a sort of stream of consciousness document really. A Can you define what you see Playgrounding is being and how its different from working a more traditional way. S What excites me about Playgrounding is that a recognition of the reality of creative process which is absolutely non-linear. Its repetitive, its about feeling relaxed, its about the ability to be vulnerable, to trust, and to be in a situation where you can make a fool of yourself but you can make a fool of yourself in a serious environment, you can make a serious fool of yourself (Laughter) S And I recognise that in terms of my own design process and I always flourish when I am in conditions where we can think the unthinkable or have utterly rubbish ideas which will suddenly distil into something meaningful or something serious or something real. And its the ability to hold those ideas in your peripheral vision in a state of flux for long enough that they can subliminally mature as it were and then they are really ideas, they work harder. Whereas if youre constrained in to this linear series of youI was saying this to David earlieryou have the idea at a certain stage, and then theres the deadline, and then the idea at a certain stage is signed off.. A Its almost as if the idea almost stops mattering S The idea is history and it can never be changed and that idea has been paid for with good money, thank you very much, so you never say you know that idea you paid for it turns out it was rubbish, it was rubbish, and heres a better idea. In most circumstances thats embarrassing. But with playgrounding, its like how fantastic, now weve had another idea and so its making concrete what most artists go through anyway and particularly in architecture we pretend we dont because were infallible professionals and were expensive infallible professionals more to the point and so the room for what would otherwise be seen as error is miniscule and if you want to change your mind you have to do it by subterfuge A And pretending that S yes, the circumstances have changed, theres a technical reasons, a health and safety reasons, you cant just say Ive changed my mind, it turns out its a crap idea and heres a better one. A Its interesting, thats saying that the process doesnt treat architects as artists.
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S I think thats the point. And one thing that we have found this process is that its not only architects that flourish by being treated as artists its everyone, from building control officer to listed building, to maintenance officer A to fire officer S Absolutely, you say heres a creative problem, help us solve it with your own creativity given your specialist knowledge and your enthusiasm and given our respect for your knowledge and enthusiasm, come and help us solve this. God, its just transformative. Completely transformative. A I think its amazing that in one review for Masque of the Red Death the reviewer actually congratulated the health and safety officer. S Sure, and quite rightly so, because its a real creative active of faith, its a piece of artistry to pull that off and to trust that its ok, its going to work, and it did work. Its something I think particularly in the UK our arteries have got so congealed with process and with customer practice that when theres an alternative version that presents itself its seen as revelatory but as we know when you go outside the UK its absolutely standard practice. To us its shocking and marvelous and inspiring. A That was funny walking around Sao Paolo with you and the pain on your face occasionally walking down a really nice staircase and you just going (Laughter) S - Why cant we do this? A Id have to have a break here and a banister here S Absolutely, all that. So thats the thing that Playgrounding helps us get back to, its a rediscovery of innocence which for me is inherently creative. A And do you think its possible with that question that you asked Vicky [Heywood, Executive Director of the RSC], I think you said something about are the definitions actually unhelpful of architect and client and tendering, do you think its possible to change that system? S I do, I have to think that. It was a disingenuous question of course. In a project like that theres so much money and so much risk riding on it, its very difficult to stay buoyant and the whole idea of risk management is abut closing those processes down. But I would argue that if youre actually trying to manage the risk of the thing you end up with being rubbish then we have to be more imaginative. And so actual risk management, in the widest sense is about loosening up those processes, and people like project managers having the imagination and the guts and the insight to say ok, my job is enabler and protector of the creative process, my job is not about nailing creative people to the floor before they are ready to be nailed down or to frighten or bully people in to never changing their mind because that is simply crass. So I think the best project managers, the best health and safety officers, the best fire officers, they know that and they know that their job is inherently creative but when it comes all about procedure and the be all and end all is on-time, on-budget you can still end up with a rubbish building
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A You loose sight of S But within their narrow definition theyre not to blame. Thats where the real danger lies. And its like anything, its about the calibre of the individual. A So I suppose Playgrounding, in a way, devolves responsibility because it makes all those people responsible for not just delivering their bit but for the quality of the overall S for the creative output of the process and thats revolutionary. As soon as you make a project manager responsible for the creative output rather than just the procedural output then suddenly they become protagonists and empathetic with the creative design process, rather than standing on the sidelines well this is all very well but youve changed your mind twice already and you can only change your mind three times according to the contract. A I just started thinking about Teatro Oficina and the people involved in that. Do you think its possible, and if anywheres possible then BAC probably is, but Lina Bo Bardi worked on that space for the last ten year of her lifeten years S That seems about right to me I dont see how you can do it much less. You want to have the space to make a proposition architecturally, see how it works, tweak it, understand it, accept where it works and where it doesnt and evolve it. That seems to me to be the luxury of working with buildings that have been around for 100 years and will be around for another 100 years you have got time to actually go back and reconsider and maybe thats part of whats special about BAC is an acceptance that were dealing with slow architecture. We dont parachute in, hit the headlines, and disappear on to the next icon. Its about a really genuine emotional, intellectual, engagement with the place which goes on and is a proper relationship, so its a committed relationship. A I thought it was interesting those talks they gave about the Curve. S It was like Charles and Diana. A Both talking but neither of them looking S Both of them looking in opposite directions. A And her saying I met him but the time it was built it was no longer an interesting project. Oh its made, boring, next thing. I suppose its the opposite of that. That is the other thing from looking at whats happened to BAC, I get the sense that BAC will always always be in the middle of stages A to B S Serial feasibility study A It will by the end have changed and the interventions will have happened and it will have increased its capability to do x, y or z but it will always feel.. S I think thats so interesting. I think youre probably right to an extent in that in some ways the most important part of the process is pumping ideas in to the early stages of the process. And then letting them go, letting them be and not (Tape change)
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A Obviously one of the massive challenges of a process like Playgrounding is to the actual infrastructure of A-M, not just the ideas, its about how architects get paid, the legal infrastructure of it S I think thats as interesting as anything because its the thing that I believe stops us having more projects like because there is still a mentality of well weve got to make a profit, otherwise well go bankrupt, theres few architects working off private incomes. Youve got to run a business. So to have conversations like this youve got to streamline it, and I dont know how, so its still cost effective. And just talking to David just now, I think the answer to that is probably to keep the conversation quite tight for as long as possible. A You mean with not too many people. S Yes. If wed done this project again you wonder whether it would have just been a longer conversation between individuals until the brief and the ideas had somehow crystallised and thats fairly cheap, and then bring in a design team. I dont know if thats right or not. Because the design team I work with and my team in the studio, they are all artists in their own right. A And you think about what those people have already contributed. S Enormous amounts. Maybe thats rubbish. But there might be a point where you would extend the me and Felix and David moment for a month longer and you could just edit out a few of the cul de sacs we went down before we had to have a design team involved. A But then surely you get in to the process of trying to evaluate which I suppose you have to anyway financially, of how many cul de sacs are ok. S Sure. But I think Im saying you can have as many cul de sacs as you like A Its how many people you take down them. S If youve got a design team of 15 people coming with you its not financially sustainable either for the client or the design team. And also there is its not a universal joy to go down 15 cul de sacs. A lot of people in design team up to a point say, lets have the idea and lets follow it. A Not everyone wants to be part of that process of having the wrong idea and.. S Not to the same extent. Theres an enjoyment about swilling round the possibilities. BAC is an extreme example. The Grand Hall was a really interesting example. We took it a long way, spent a lot of money developing an idea, which we then abandoned, summarily, for the right reasons, but if were going to do that again, we probably wouldnt have gone about it in that way, A with all those people.. S we would have pissed that much money at it. We wouldnt have spent that much design team time. A Who do you think should have been there during that process? You, Emma, David,
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S Vicky, Gavin probably. A So a few more of those moments that we had in the Grand Hall that morning S Yes but with less people. In a way that was the high watermark of my frustration with the process. Where there was lots of people, the lines of communication and authorship were absolutely foggy. And even to the extent, you know, probably through my own fault, wasnt aware how far the process had gone and where the authorial voice was lying at the time. And because Ive got a huge amount of time for Vicky and I respect her enormously I felt inhibited about saying Im not sure about that or could we look at it another way because it was unclear how far the conversation had gone in one direction. So theres an underlying discipline about these processes which will make the free exploration more efficient more productive. I think its a mistake to think of it as lets all just everyone sit around talk about it until were exhausted. I dont think thats the way the answer lies. Maybe weve been guilty of that. A The way you were describing it earlier reminds me exactly of how someone like Emma Rice makes work. Because instead of someone like Katie Mitchell you walks in to a rehearsal room with Monday morning 10am were going to do x y z and then were going to break for lunch, and her work is absolutely incredible, stunning, whereas Emma walks in an goes so, maybe we should and she just starts doing things where I think if you are part of that process, depending on what kind of person you are, can feel really unsafe, there are actors who get towards the moment where they have to talk out on stage and they say I dont what Im doing S But that is a particular skill that architects acquire, like directors. Comfort with uncertainty. Really far in to the process and actually giving out confident signals. Right up to the moment where you think its too late, Im fucked. The bigger project the more adept you have to be. A Somebody talking to the Davids said its all very well you working like this but Steve Tompkins is the only architect in the whole of England who is prepared to work like that She was intimating that it would never be repeated. I suppose thats partly because it challenges the actual basic process S structure challenges the whole DNA of the transaction, thats what it does. A But then theres also how many architects, young architects, who are prepared to be uncertain. S I think there are dozens. Theres a whole generation of architects who are absolutely born in to that process and I think the process weve come from will look increasingly old fashioned. That might be the single most important thing that changes from this generation of architects to the next, is that relinquishing of that sort of auteur authorship, thinking the client doesnt know what they want and its my job to. A inform them S yes, and that whole clich that the client will only know what they want when they see it, which strikes me as so fucking arrogant, as if youre dealing with children, that you the god, not only the form giver but the idea giver, the brief giver, the person who is solely responsible.
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A There was a lot of talk about that at the conference, you know the client doesnt always know what they want. S And sometimes its true. Youre dealing with a local authority client who says er, we need a theatre A Yes, then you are the artist. S Then youre the artist, then youre the director. But if youre dealing with BAC, the National, the Royal Court, the Young Vic, for Gods sake. And of course youre absolutely struggling to keep up with the brief making process which is why we always spend so long trying to understand what the hells going on. And its only at the point when you feel you know as much about the organisation as they do that you start to run with it, you start to extrapolate what they and who they are, it can take many forms, you know you can decide they dont need the building at all, they need a change of department, a change of personnel, they need a divorce, anything. But I think thats the architects job is to not always unerringly advice towards the object which you can then photograph and go in to your portfolio. A I remember you saying that at the beginning that we may end up doing no architecture. Which I think is amazing. S Yes, well its amazingly expensive, thats the trouble. A sceptic would say, nice work if you can get it, you spend two years fucking about, you get paid through the nose and you end up doing nothing, whats that all about Mr. Architect? And you know fair point. So theres always balance. A What I havent managed to imagine is how a process like Playgrounding could contribute towards making new buildings. Other than spending longer in the design phase. How would you set out on a new build? S Well Snape is interesting for that. Where its half refurb and half rebuild. Where the place became the client on that job. A What do you mean by that? S I felt my prime responsibility and my prime informant was a sense of place. And because the brief was relatively straightforward and the clients aspirations were relatively straightforward. A So what you were going to gain traction from S Yes, so the intellectual transaction was with the place. And thats not necessarily an existing building its about a situation. So I think you can playground place and you can playground time in the same way that you can playground the physical fabric of an existing context. And so the site doesnt necessarily have to be tangible physical raw material A But everywhere offers you something S Yes I think so and you expand your definition of site where it gives you sufficient information to conduct a similar methodological interrogation of the project. So its about neighbourhood, its about city, its about society, about cultural memory. And it can be a flat site.
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A What about trying things out like Scratch? S More difficult. Youd have to expand your timeframe in to your previous portfolio of work I guess. Or in to precedent. But I think the context for the project I think expands until it contains enough raw material to purchase on. With BAC thats like white dwarf because its so dense that you hardly need to look outside the walls because its got its own gravitational field which is incredibly powerful. Other projects would be more diffuse and youd need to gather more material from further afield. But specificity is what drives our practice as a studio. A One of the main differences between theatre and architecture is the timescale that they operate on. And you talked about slow architecture. S Ill tell you my Star Trek anecdote. (Laughter) S I was just telling David and hed seen the same episode. Theres this brilliant seminal Star Trek episode where one half has been infected by some kind of bug where one half of appears to the other so slow they are not actually moving at all, they are just frozen, because their timescale, its such a brilliant idea, whereas the other half are moving so fast that to the slow half that its just like this its just this [makes whizzing sound] its like this high pitched whining and thats theatre and architecture they are just completely analogous. And my job, I think, is to kind of [more noise] wrench those timescales somehow together so that one at last is listening to the other. A The one thing thats similar is the specificity. The one thing that theatre has is this need to be specific. So for each show theres this incredibly specific world which you create and the danger I think when an architect comes in that we have been plagued by for the previous ten years is the need to be multi-purpose we want to do this in the space and that in the space and the architect suddenly thinks well I have to provide a blank canvass in order for theatre makers to be specific. Whereas actually that may not be the most helpful thing in order for an artist to be specific. S I mean blank is just dull isnt it? And so I think as artists we have to provide the canvass but it doesnt have to be blank. And its that sort of under painting of, to a certain point, perhaps, and thats where the judgement of each project comes in, the extent to which you lock down the narrative of the building. A Thats the difficulty for an architect S Sure. I dont know if it is a difficulty its a different relationship to your ego, certainly. And also the fallacy of the cryogenically frozen moment that you create as a lone creative genius and there it is forever. And it never changes. And it never can change. A Isnt that what Denys Lasdun said about the National? S Its what I was just about to say is that its what I am negotiating at the National. I think theres a sort of lazy version of the National is so perfect and so tightly wrought that it can never change or should never change whereas Lasden said the opposite. He said there are certain things about this building which are permanent and its obvious to anyone who understands the building whats
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permanent. And Ive also designed in other layers of mutability. And people that unlock the narrative of this building will understand what those layers are and they will be able to work with it and it will be fine and it will have my blessing. Thats how I am mythologizing the project in a Jungian sense. Thats how I am justifying to myself. A The way I understood it that he viewed the architecture of the space of the theatre of the space as two almost completely separate things. And he said that you can play with the theatre but that the architecture is not your business. S Thats an over simplification. I think he was a much more impressive mind than that. He knew that the building would both be a catalyst to and subject to change, urban change. And I think he would have fully expected the building to change and hopefully in the hands of somebody who was sympathetic to his narratives. I am. We are. Its an extraordinary building. I can now draw a plan or section at the National, verbatim. Its like learning the Quran. Its like I have been to the Madrasa for two years. I was saying to David earlier on, the National and BAC they are so parallel as propositions. Because they are both intensely beautiful powerful complex spaces. They both need exchange. They are both to some extent intractable and tightly wound and they both have this incredibly strong presence and yet they are both on a creative roll, both doing extraordinary things in their own ways, and they need that mediating layer of new stuff to help them deal with what they are doing within the confines of their spaces. And they both love their spaces and theyre both maddened by their spaces. And the public are probably in the same position for different reasons. But either project is extraordinary but to have them running at the same time. It should be a complete headfuck but its not to be constantly learning from one to the other. Its a complete joy. A I suppose they both share fundamentally the fact that you walk in and get lost. S But also you get transported by them in their own ways. They are both transporting spaces. A The last thing was a bit about whats actually planned for BAC. So there are five.. S Fuck knows (Laughter) A Well what is currently planned for BAC. I wrote down the fivewhich is interesting because I have been at BAC for a year and a half, two years almost now, and there are five key things that we said we were going to do, and I can never remember exactly what they are. So I have got: first floor; home; lift access, garden, courtyard theatre, those are lumped in to one; grand hall, town hall road; infrastructure. S So the idea is that the building keep its mystique, its allure and its direct availability to artists but somehow it has the capability within itself that you dont always have to go back right to square one every time you want to engage with the building. So you dont have to reinvent the wheel every time which is exhausting and expensive and a drain on energy. So on one level its about bringing the potential capability of the building through infrastructure. And in a way Id say thats almost the most important project for the building. A The thing that will make the biggest difference.
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S I think it will and it will make a difference in the positive sense, work will be easier to make, more work will be made, more safely, and less expensively. The draw back is of course that you once you deproblematise the building it becomes more frictionless and theres good and bad in that. So when you engage with a raw found space and you have to have that first complete virgin relationship you can probably never recreate that, and everybodys tried and nobodys succeeded. And so I think the building has to move on it cant adopt that sort of disingenuous virginity because that would start to look ersatz and branded, the found space experience, rather than the found space. A You end up with something Globe like S Yes but more sadder. It is now genuine, authentic, original and whereas the Globe never was. And so its fine as far as Im concerned for what it is. But I think you have to take on that relationship with authenticity to the point where its moving forward and constantly drilling edge on what you want to do with the space. It would be easy to turn it into a sort of heritage experience. It becomes sort of facile, found space, no problems, risk free, churn it out, do another Red Death, do a yet another Red Death, or another, or yet another. More or less. And so how does the architect to give clues about how you could make that more complicated and how you could start to engage that with the contemporary and the political because there is a wonderful political continuity as well as a physical continuity because of the Town Hall being what it is and its history. I think thats really interesting. And for me thats something we as architects can take on and try and somehow make manifest. And I dont know how you do that, no idea yet. Early days yet. And I am glad we dont how to do it. Because it would the wrong answer. So thats one thing and the other is to make the building more available and more serious, add both light and dark. My reaction to the Town Hall is that you could sort of encapsulate it in to a recurring nightmare I had as a kid where Id be in my house with my family all around me having a party, it would be playtime, light positive, supportive but then something would happen and Id be made to go downstairs and answer the door, and Id be banished from my family. And I was would be in a space that I didnt understand that I felt frightened by anxious by and as I got downstairs there would be this kind of monster lurking there waiting for me and Id wake up in a sweat. I think BAC has the potential to have both of those scenes implicit in it. And if we bowdlerise the building to where it has only the light, the playful, the accessible, the friendly and the welcoming all of which are the buzz words without which we would be banished to the inner most circles of hell by the establishment. So theres that. But theres also the possibility of working with the darkness of the space, the bits that are frightening, being alone in a building at night. Without quite enough light. And strange noises. A The building lives. [Anecdote about staying in the building late and hearing all the strange noise the building makes on its own.] S Thats the thing to commandeer somehow. Thats the thing to protect. I think it would be a failure if we did a sort of lottery number where everything that was difficult or frightening was expunged
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Appendix 9 th Questions answered by David Jubb, in an email, 12 July 2009 A] First stint at BAC as Development Producer: 1. How did Scratch start? Work-in-progress sharings existed in the mid 90s at BAC and other London theatres including Oval House; often followed by post-show discussions. But these work-in-progress showings were isolated in that there was no ongoing developmental opportunities for artists to create work over a long period of time. There were some exceptions. For example I ran a programme at the Lion & Unicorn Pub Theatre from 1998-1999 where artists could present work-in-progress for three nights in every two month season; some of these shows then ended up having a three week run at the pub theatre. But while the structure was consciously attempting to develop artists and their work over time, there was no conscious invitation to the audience to feedback on the work or a developmental frame that engaged artist and audience in any kind of structured creative dialogue. The catalyst to change was the creation of a work-in-progress night at BAC when four or five artists each presented up to ten minutes of an early draft of an idea. The first Scratch Night was presented in January 2000 in The Shape of Things to Come season. The journey to this first Scratch Night began in several places. In the British Festival of Visual Theatre 1999 at BAC we programmed The Lion & Unicorn Night of Glee; this was a sprawling, seemingly endless night of cabaret theatre with around a dozen artists trying out ideas in front of an audience sparked a debate at BAC about presenting short work-in-progress pieces to audiences. In the artists brainstorming meeting that Autumn there was a discussion about the format of possible Scratch Night and Kazuko Hohki coined the term scratch as an appropriate starting place for ideas. Tom Morris had long been thinking about how best to support artists and their developing work and BACs programme was ripe for a structured model. In the Autumn of 1999 Tom and I (I became the Development Producer at BAC in August 1999) also worked together to develop ideas around the ladder of development which was a structured approach to developing work over time. We also worked to develop other approaches to supporting artists at this time including the way we managed BACs relationship with artists from first contact to an evolving relationship over years through new programmes like the Supported Artist and Associate Artist programmes. The first Scratch Night was presented in the Council Chamber in January 2000 and included Niall Ashdowns first scratch of Hungarian Bird Festival. There was an audience of about 30. 2. Describe Toms approach to programming (can you mention what Shock of the New means please?) I think there were three reasons why Tom programmed visiting productions (that had not been developed at BAC) which probably represented about half of the programme in 1999: the story interested Tom and was told in an interesting way; that Tom wanted the artist community (the artist brainstorming list) to have an opportunity to see the work; there was a potential public audience for the work. There were probably loads of other reasons too that I was less aware of - but the thing I remember most was that Toms programming approach was brilliantly instinctive. The same was true
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for developing work through Scratch; an additional factor in this side of the programme was Toms own ability to dramaturgically support the development of the work; a vital factor in the success of many shows at BAC during this period. The Shock of the New was a regular name that cropped up as a potential title for seasons or festivals at BAC. I think Tom loved what it represented; he understood the mission of BAC to create new theatre and he was keen to present new ideas as if they were a bolt from the blue. I remember seeing a drawing in Toms office one day of a rhinoceros and commenting it was my favourite wild animal. Tom said hed had an idea for the front of BAC or the front of a theatre space for a massive sculptured rhinoceros smashing through the theatre wall. I think that rhinoceros, like the red cubes on the front of the building that Tom commissioned years later, are examples of how Tom is interested in surprise as one of the most vital and inspirational qualities in theatre. One of the questions on the feedback forms at BAC while Tom was Artistic Director was something like what was the most surprising thing about the performance? I remember Tom telling me when I started at BAC as Artistic Director how important it was to make sure those questions on Scratch feedback forms reflected what you expected from the work you wanted to develop. Surprise was one of his big things. 3. Describe the approach to space, in terms of programming, during that time I arrived in 1999 after the BAC capital proposals of the mid 90s had crashed and burned due to over commitment of lottery cash to other capital projects. Space was very rarely discussed in programming meetings. We used the Main House and two studios. Studio 2 was used for more experimental work. Studio 1 for more traditional plays and studio theatre productions. The Main House tended to be used for more traditional work or successful experiments that had grown through Scratch. For example, at the top end of the ladder of development in 2000 the rungs went from three week run in a studio, to a two to three night run in the Main House in a festival, to a three week run in the Main House. There was a very clear hierarchy. Other parts of the building were occasionally used: the foyer; the attic; the gallery. But the focus of the production teams efforts was on servicing the three theatre spaces and ensuring they ran as smoothly. I think it was the producing team the introduction of Louise Blackwell, Richard Dufty, Kate McGrath and others who started working with artists across more of the space over time. There was a democratisation of the programming process during this time, specifically as Tom spent more and more time in rehearsal rooms supporting or creating work, and needed others to develop and deliver the programme. I think the interest in work in different parts of the building grew as did the producing teams greater access to programming decisions during the years 2000 2004. 4. Could you define Tom Morris relationship with the building? Are there any moments you recall in particular that could illustrate this? I perhaps know more about it now than I did in 1999/2000. Now I know about Toms intended plans for the building and the creation of formal theatre spaces across the site of the town hall. I know that Tom was interested in converting the Town Hall in to a series of well equipped working theatre spaces and create an extraordinary place for artists and audiences to hang out. I also know that these plans didnt come off something which I think is a good thing; for two reasons. Firstly I think the plans would have hamstrung BAC to present work in ways governed by the limitations of the theatre spaces. Secondly it meant that Tom went on to focus on developing, producing and directing work which was massively beneficial to British theatre and BAC.
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I dont think Tom loved the building. I also think his relationship with the building was mixed up in his relationship with the Council who provided a reducing pot of funding to BAC, managed the building and provided relatively short leases to BAC. When I applied for the role of Artistic Director I asked Tom to help me think about the job and whether it was for me. I remember one of the pieces of advice he gave me was to think about whether BAC should be based in the Town Hall or not. Whilst Tom was giving me a really important strategic tip, to think about the organisations relationship with the building, I thought that the reason he asked that question spoke volumes about his relationship with the space. I think if hed have stayed on at BAC he would have looked for a different home for the organisation. 5. What brought you and Tom Morris together? I was running a pub theatre (Lion & Unicorn) in Kentish Town for Central School of Speech and Drama. Tom came to a night Id programmed with David Rosenberg and Hannah Ringham (from Shunt) and after that night invited me in for a chat at BAC. We talked together about the Lions programme and how it might connect to BAC. We agreed that the Lions programme would be part of the British Festival of Visual Theatre at BAC in 1999; there were sometimes satellite parts of the festival in different venues. Soon after that conversation the role of Development Producer was advertised at BAC; a new role supporting artists. I applied for the job and got it. We worked together for 18 months at BAC and then I set up an independent producing company based in the building with Toms support. What brought us together, as two people passionate about making theatre, apart from a friendship, was the relationship between artist and audience. The brochure of the British Festival of Visual Theatre 2000 shows the face of Mike Shepherd on one side and Benji Reid on the other, close up, looking in to your eyes as you stare back. The potential of that look between artists and audience was what mutually excited us both: to create that festival, and others like it, together, as works of passion. 6. What would you say was Toms focus as Artistic Director? What was his legacy to the organisation? His mission was creating high quality, surprising work through the creative collaboration of artists, staff and public. I think he was true to that mission. I think there was often a tension between a conscious drive for experimental new theatre practice that tore down the walls of theatre, like a rhinoceros, and rather more formal experiments in traditional form which felt as though they were a comfortable part of theatre orthodoxy. His legacies to the organisation are manifold: a reputation as a groundbreaking UK arts organisation; a massively more stable funding position with Arts Council England; the artist centred support structures of the organisation. B] Second stint at BAC as Artistic Director: 7. Can you trace where the idea to work more flexibly with the building came from? During my four years running an independent producing company in the building I explored the building in various ways: occupying at least three different offices; finding nooks and crannies for
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rehearsals; and even sleeping in discreet corners (in secret) when I didnt have anywhere to live. I got to know the building very well; Id begun to enjoy it as a friend and even confidante. In terms of my work on the BAC programme, as Artistic Director, in 2004, after an absolutely awful start to being Artistic Director, making 4 staff redundant, due to a Wandsworth funding cut, I programmed Summer Holiday with the team. We turfed the foyer, created a beach, put artists in different spaces in the building, wherever available, and ran a three week August festival of scratching new ideas. It was the first thing I programmed with the team. After the gloom of redundancies hung over the organisation like a bad smell, Summer Holiday felt like a breath of fresh air. In 2005 I went further with these building experiments. After a couple of producing team members left to set up Fuel, which we helped them with through a Jerwood & BAC bursary, I recruited a new fledgling team. I programmed OctoberFest: Is Theatre Any Good? in which there was a short theatre night BLINK in around 8 spaces across the building and the first Trashy Multi-Artform Bingo Blowout Party which was, as it suggests, a night of multi-disciplinary work presented roughly in the context of lots of drinking and dancing. I sometimes enjoyed the audiences journey around the building during these nights as much as the work; there was a sense of adventure and investment from audiences that excited me; an active, creative audience making choices about how they wanted to experience the work. I had been strongly influenced by mixed by nights like those run by OMSK in the mid 1990s in 333 Old Street where work was presented all over the club. There were also lots of fragmented but important moments of experiencing the building and organisation during the first two years of my Artistic Directorship: walking in to the Grand Hall when events were on, marvelling at the scale and sheer fun of the space and wondering why we didnt use the space more flexibly; seeing youth theatre shows one after the other in the same space (over a period of weeks) and wondering why we didnt programme them all on the same night all over the building; going on late night walks around the building and thinking it was my playground to work in with the artists I chose and the sheer excitement of that feeling; programming and experiencing The Yellow Wallpaper by Punchdrunk in the BAC attic in OctoberFest 2005 and experiencing the sheer theatricality of the building; thinking about ways to earn more money through the way we used space; getting ever shorter leases from Wandsworth Borough Council and being reminded of Tom Morris question about considering BAC independently of the Town Hall, and feeling more and more passionately that BACs success was, in part, because of the Town Hall rather than despite the Town Hall; going through the organisations 25 year archive of Board papers and programmes on a three week holiday in Spain in June 2006 and realising that BACs artists had definitely drawn inspiration from a space that was not a theatre; and that our task was to turn the building back in to the found space it really was and stop trying to tame it in to being a crap theatre. 8. At what point did that idea solidify into working with an architect? After a Board meeting in Spring 2006 in which Id talked about the building and the idea of opening some of the spaces for artist use, Nick Starr, BACs Chair and Executive Director of the National Theatre, stayed on after the meeting and looked over some drawings of the space with the senior management team. Nick suggested meeting Steve Tompkins from Haworth Tompkins. I hadnt thought of meeting an architect before then. Nick is passionate about buildings. He did the two temporary Almeida Theatres, the National Theatre Studios, he understood the process and must have instinctively known that there was a good connection to be made with Steve: a personality match as much as a good fit of idea and ambition. Nick also helped me understand the first formal piece of work with Steve (which turned out to be Fuzzy Logic) from a financial point of view. Architect fees are potentially eye watering in comparison to the analogous commissioning fees for other artists in an
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arts centres programme but Nick, as Chair, was able to help me think about BACs finances differently; considering revenue and capital income streams as one and to think flexibly about risk and reserves; a lesson that still benefits BAC three years later. The idea of working with an architect was Nick Starrs; I think I was happy to just imagine wed do it ourselves. 9. What made you think Steve T. was the right architect? When I met Steve I thought he was a brilliant mix of an artist and a producer: someone with visionary ideas who could also articulate how they might happen.even if he wasnt really sure, I believed he could make them happen. It reminded me of meeting David Woods and Jon Haynes, Emma Rice, Felix Barret, Toby Jonespeople whose energy and ideas you quickly come to love. At one point during our first meeting on a hot summers day in 2006 in BACs courtyard, I was describing the plans with Punchdrunk, opening the building up, the idea of an arts centre living inside the world of a show, the creative and financial risks involved. At one point of the conversation I became anxious that I might sound too certain, too clear as to the direction I was following, too much like an expert, and I said, honestly, that I was making it up as I went along. Steve said: ah, a man after my own heart and that felt very good. He was someone I didnt have to pretend with; its a ridiculously rare thing for brilliant people like Steve to show vulnerability, to show that theyre out on a limb, that theyre sometimes not sure what the next move is; I dont want to work with anyone that knows exactly what theyre doing all the time, what would be the point of collaborating with someone where there was no risk involved? Youd know the outcome before you started. 10. Can you pinpoint any key moments in your conversation with Steve / Felix around MORD that led to the idea of Playgrounding? I think it was simply the two parallel conversations, in the context of two years of thinking about the building and programming, which made sense of playgrounding as an idea. The conversation with Felix was about how an arts centre could live inside the world of a show. The conversation with Steve was about how the energy and character of the building and how to turn up the voltage to the benefit of artists, audiences and staff. Through the building and programming thinking I had been doing for the last two years Id come to a realisation that the building was so important for artists because it wasnt a theatre but a found space which acted as a provocation for new theatre and new ways of working. It was the combination of these elements that led quite naturally to the idea of the building as a playground for artists and audiences. When the conversations came together for the first time there was also a key moment that Ive described to many people since; when trying to describe playgrounding. Steve, Felix and I were meeting together as a three for the first time. Walking around the building, talking about plans for The Masque of the Red Death by Punchdrunk and BAC. Felix was talking about fire and how it was an important icon in some of Edgar Allan Poes work. Steve said well you know theres fifteen or so fireplaces in the building, why dont we open one of them up and light stories in the show by firelight. Felixs excitement for the potential magic of this in the show was matched by my excitement of the legacy of that fireplace in the building. I think it was a moment when theory fell easily in to practice and I realised the idea had legs. 11. Can you define Playgrounding? There is a document I have assembled called BAC Capital Development that has a good definition of the playgrounding process were using. Something that document does not say is where the use of
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the word playground came from. There is a Board paper that was prepared that described the idea in which I called it the creation of a theatrical village. The idea of playground came from children using a space to create a thousand different worlds. In any playground there are structured areas for play but there is also space to just run about and corners to hang out in. Exciting playgrounds are spaces are both equipped and free wheeling for the imagination. The idea of playgrounding is simply about artists, staff and audiences doing what we all used to do in our playgrounds, creating flexible worlds in which anything could happen. And often the very best and most exciting games were not the ones that happened on the apparatus provided for us by clever adults, designed for our benefit, but were the parts of the playground where we could create our own worlds. 12. What are the challenges you face in using Playgrounding as a process and keeping it buoyant? 1. How do you create an authorial arc over the project over five or more years that involves many different artists? In many ways it is the same challenge that a Director has to create a robust dramaturgical structure through a piece in which dozens of artists collaborate. How do we work with artists to engage them in the playgrounding process across the entire programme but create enough consistency of vision to ensure 2. Playgrounding offers less challenges to how you might design a building it is effectively an extended research and development process for design but offers more profound challenges to the ways of delivering a building project because we are undertaking improvisatory building projects through the projects duration. This is a challenge to RIBA Plan of Works; funding guidelines with their mandatory procurement procedures; English Heritage listing processes; legal liability for carrying out building works. How does the project management system for delivering building projects enhance and develop (rather than crush) the creative and playful aspirations of the project? 3. How do you truly integrate the process (the work of the space team at BAC) with the rest of the organisations activities? This is a mixture of a creative and project management challenge: providing clear leadership and enabling a wide and open engagement in the project process. How do the organisations other activity programmes theatre, participate, events all become meaningfully involved in the process of opening up and developing the building? 13. In what way does Playgrounding challenge the established RIBA A to M process? The RIBA process is about clearly delineated project stages with clear sign off from one project management group to another. It is partly designed to protect one party from another and ensure liability is clearly carried. I cant comment on how well it does or doesnt operate in the day to day construction industry, though general knowledge tells us that plenty of people in that industry who must be using the RIBA process are busy suing each other. My challenge to the A-M RIBA process in the context in which I am working at BAC is that demarcation of territory and clarification of liability can discourage collaboration and actively encourage the passivity of the client. A-M actively promotes the role of the expert in process and the deferment of liability to that expertise. I think the danger is that collective responsibility is diminished. I would argue that pure (often iconic) singular visions can lead to extraordinary pieces of art, to stunning buildings, that are often also quite dysfunctional. And that more collaborative processes that are tuned in to the desires of the people that will use the building lead to buildings that can also be great pieces of art but that also function. A trip to Sao Paulo to see the work on Niemeyer versus Lina Bo Bardi is testament to this. Playgroundings challenge to the RIBA process is the breaking down of the architect / client relationship. The space team at BAC includes everyone engaged in the project and is beginning to explore how liabilities can be shared between team members conscious of the high stakes of their
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collaboration. See the document Meeting - Steve Tompkins & David Jubb. Swaines Lane - 6th July 2009 that are my notes from a meeting with Steve recently. 14. Describe a space transformation that has been successful because of the playgrounding process. See the Capital Development document for description of Masque of the Red Death and how this project successfully opened up the Town Hall and profoundly changed the way we think about the building. Kneehigh Theatres Don John was a catalyst for change in BACs Grand Hall. One of the challenges of the Grand Hall is that the largest access point is a set of double doors leading in to the space. So unless, like the 1900 Hope-Jones organ, set pieces and equipment can be assembled in the space, piece by piece, the potential for live event is massively reduced by what you can simply fit through the Hall doors. Putting a large scale touring production in to the space was a great way of testing a new way of working. And Kneehigh, who have created work on cliff-tops, down tin mines, in traditional theatres and in village halls, were a great partner with whom to carry out that experiment. They are masters at presenting their work in different contexts and using space to their advantage. Director Emma Rice, Designer Vicky Mortimer, Architect worked Steve Tompkins worked with David Micklem and I to create a 470 seat temporary auditorium in the space that would both accommodate Don John and open up the space for more flexible use. The legacy of the experiment is better access facilities off street and in to the building, also access in to the actual space, improved technical infrastructure in the Hall enabling us to run a much wider range of events in the space, a partial restoration of the Hope-Jones organ, ideas for developing the space further. The project was a second moment of playgrounding in the Hall after Masque of the Red Death had encouraged us to see the space as both a performance space and a connected part of the whole building. Red Death led us to create a meeting in the building every week called the One Building Meeting where we would talk about operational provision across the whole footprint of the Town Hall because ever since the arts centre moved in to the space there had been a spiritual and operational divide between the two halves of the building. Don John as a second moment of improvisation or playgrounding led us to see even more new opportunities in the space. It is an interesting example of playgrounding because prior to Don John we had commissioned Haworth Tompkins to complete a stage D RIBA report on the Grand Hall to help us raise funds for works to the space and because it felt like the right thing to do. The report proposed a wide ranging scope of works. For Don John we only completed about 150,000 worth of work to just enable the show: pulling back from much of the proposed scope which involved some significant infrastructure moves. Two weeks ago I met Steve Tompkins to discuss the next stage of the Grand Hall project. Steves inspiration was to think about the Hall as a space in which to mark out a sustainable approach to the general capital project at BAC. For example, he talked about putting wood burners in to the Hall and running projects with local people to source sustainable sources of skipped wood. So a year on from Stage D on the Grand Hall and the debate around sustainability had become stronger across the arts, in architecture and in global politics. BAC had also hosted the national Transition Towns conference in the Grand Hall in May 2009 and Steve had had long conversations with Lucy Neal (in the Transition Town movement) about the idea of a Battersea Transition Town. The point being that the world and BAC had changed over that year. And that the playgrounding process which is essentially an ongoing way of looking at building development rather than a do it and its done approach had enabled these new ideas around creating a sustainable building to evolve over time and building use. If during the year leading up to that conversation with Steve, the stage D report had
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moved through stages E to K, based on the design in stage D, it would have been too late for the Hall to adopt the wood burner approach at least not without a great deal of waste and ripping out of previous ideas. Playgrounding is an approach that keeps things flexible and enables buildings to evolve according to current thinking rather than lock them down in to an ideal in a fixed moment of time. 15. Have there been any mistakes (assuming we know that making mistakes is part of the process)? We have sometimes not put artists in the driving seat of changes. And weve developed spaces to be more fit for purpose. So for example, for the sake of improved income from the Events strand we have recently developed the first floor spaces in the front half of the building. We have cleaned them up, polished the floorboards, put 21st century looking radiators on the walls, painted the walls single respectable colours. In searching for an orthodox feel for a space that might be attractive to our generic idea of an events client we have bleached out some of what is interesting about the space: the history; the stories; the memories. The central problem with the First Floor project is that we didnt put an artist in charge. Artists tend to be interested in story, in whats authentic and therefore in my experience they have always celebrated what is already there. Thats not to say that they havent wanted to find new stories, or to tell their own stories in the context of the Town Hall space but my favourite artists are ones that are not scared of whats already present, of what the space used to be, of the hybrid potential of their own work and the space as it stands. On the First Floor project we were neither employing artists or using the architect as artist (Steve wasnt involved in the project) and it led to the voltage (as Steve calls it) of the space being turned down. Mistake. 16. Describe the courtyard / foyer theatre and where that idea came from (this is a leading the witness question to talk about the links between playgrounding and Lina BBs work at Teatro Oficina) It comes from Teatro Oficina in Sao Paolo. This is a space that I saw in 2007 and which there is a description of in the Capital Development document. The foyer is one of the most problematic spaces at BAC because it is essentially used as a big corridor. It always feels transitional and empty. As it is also the space that welcomes you to the building, the first space you walk in to: thats not a great way to make people feel at home. Teatro Oficina was in some ways, also a corridor, in that it was imagined as a foyer space leading to a larger theatre space: a project that was never built. But Lina Bo Bardi and Ze Celso (spelling) turned it in to an incredibly dynamic performance space that is inspiration for the kind of flexible theatre auditorium that is relatively unexplored in the UK. It is a heretical theatre space that says there is no orthodox way of making theatre. Whilst Ze Celso (spelling) uses the space in quite a specific way for his own practice, it also has the potential to be used in a hundred different ways in terms of the relationship between audience and artist. Try saying that about an orthodox space like the Olivier theatre.
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List of Illustrations Fig. 1 Fig. 2 Fig. 3 Fig. 4 Fig. 5 Fig. 6 Fig. 7 Fig. 8 Fig. 9 Fig. 10 Fig. 11 Fig.12 Fig. 13 Fig. 14 Fig. 15
Battersea Town Hall, postcard c. 1894 Source: Battersea Local History Library, MISC. File 725.13 BATT Red brick and Monks Park Bath stone shell Source: Allegra Galvin 2009 Battersea Town Hall, postcard c. 1894 Source: Battersea Local History Library, MISC. File 725.13 BATT Plan of ground floor and east elevation, Battersea Arts Centre th Source: The Builder, 19 December 1891 East corridor ending in a flight of stairs Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive (photos taken during The Masque of the Red Death) Mosaic floor in Octagonal Hall, outside the Grand Hall Source: Haworth Tompkins Architects, 2008 Dome of Octagonal Hall Source: Haworth Tompkins Architects, 2008 Mosaic floor in entrance foyer Source: Haworth Tompkins Architects, 2008 Entrance foyer of Battersea Arts Centre Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Plan of ground floor changes made to the middle of the building, 1899 Source: Battersea Local History Library Plan of first floor changes made to the middle of the building, 1899 Source: Battersea Local History Library Plan of first floor changes made to the middle of the building, 1925 Source: Plan of first floor changes made to the middle of the building,1934 Source: Battersea Local History Library Plan of new staircase and landing to the first floor, 1899 Source: Battersea Local History Library Social Entertainment Brochure for 1959-60 Source: Battersea Local History Library, MISC. File 725.13 BATT
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Fig. 16 Plan for redevelopment of Battersea Arts Centre into leisure centre with library and swimming pool Source: Battersea Local History Library Fig.17 Postcard showing Battersea Arts Centre and the Shakespeare Theatre side-by-side on Lavender Hill (c.1900) Source: Theatres Trust archive Fig. 18 Newspaper clipping of raked seating going into the council chamber, c.1981 Source: Battersea Local History Library, MISC. File 725.13 BATT Fig. 19 Works taking place to convert the council chamber into the main house, a black box space, c. 1981 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Fig. 20 Newly-installed raked seating in the main house, c. 1981 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Fig. 21 Plan for Levitt Bernstein Central Studio, c.1996 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Fig. 22 Sketch of the plans for increased circulation and shockingly unexpected garden th Source: Tom Morris, drawn during an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 Fig.23 Sketch showing the proposed height of the central studio in comparison to the original building th Source: Tom Morris, drawn during an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 Fig. 24 Sketch by Bethan Davies of Levitt Bernstein Architects, showing the Central Studio and glass- roofed foyer area th Source: Given to the author by Axel Burrough, 8 June 2009 Fig.25 Elevation of central studio showing proposed seating layout, Theatre Projects, c.1996 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Fig. 26 Plan showing the courtyard converted into a glass-roofed caf area, Levitt Bernstein Architects, c.1996 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Fig. 27 Sketch of the scratch ladder of development showing progression from scratch night, to scratch performance / 3.50 tickets to showcase / 8.00 tickets to 3 week [run] / 10 tickets. The sketch also shows how the scratch nights were programmed into each season across the year. th Source: Tom Morris, drawn during an interview with the author, 4 June 2009 Fig. 28 Octoberfest season brochure, front cover and inside front cover, 2005 Source: Batterea Arts Centre archive Fig. 29 Octoberfest season brochure, parties page, 2005
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Source: Batterea Arts Centre archive Fig. 30 The House of Usher, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 31 The Palais Royale dressing room, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 32 Punchdrunk performer as Madeline Usher, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 33 Punchdrunk performer, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 34 Finale in the Grand Hall, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 35 Punchdrunk performer as Roderick Usher, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 36 Set Design for the ground floor front of the building, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 37 The Grand Hall as Prince Prosperos palace, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 38 The fireplace room with Pluto the cat, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 39 New structure for scratch development Source: David Jubb / Battersea Arts Centre Fig. 40 Punchdrunk performer in The Black Cat, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 41 The attic stairs painted for The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007 Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Fig. 42 New producing office under construction in old social services kitchen, summer 2007 Source: Haworth Tompkins Architects Fig. 43 Set design for the music room, showing hidden doorway leading into the artistic directors office, The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, September 2007
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Source: Stephen Dobbie / Punchdrunk archive Front entrance of Teatro Oficina, Sao Paulo, November 2008 Source: Allegra Galvin Side view of Teatro Oficina, Sao Paulo, November 2008 Source: Allegra Galvin Sao Paulo Museum of Modern Art (MASP), designed by Lina Bo Bardi, 1957-1968 rd Source: Bo Bardi, Lina, Lina Bo Bardi, Instituto Lina Bo e P.M. Bardi, Sao Paulo 2008 (3 Ed.), p.111 SESC Pompia, Sao Paulo, designed by Lina Bo Bardi, 1977 Source: Allegra Galvin In the Jungle of the Cities, design by Lina Bo Bardi, direction by Ze Celso, Teatro Oficina, 1969 rd Source: Bo Bardi, Lina, Lina Bo Bardi, Instituto Lina Bo e P.M. Bardi, Sao Paulo 2008 (3 Ed.), p.187
Fig. 49 Sketch proposal for the interior of Teatro Oficina by Lina Bo Bardi, showing the marking Walkway, not advised by the architect circled in red. rd Source: Bo Bardi, Lina, Lina Bo Bardi, Instituto Lina Bo e P.M. Bardi, Sao Paulo 2008 (3 Ed.), p. 259 Fig. 50 Teatro Oficina on tour, a reconstruction of the scaffolding theatre Source: http://teatroficina.uol.com.br Fig. 51 Teatro Oficina on tour, a reconstruction of the scaffolding theatre being inspected by Ze Celso Source: http://teatroficina.uol.com.br Fig. 52 The terreiro or yard outside the auditorium at SESC Pompia, 2008 Source: Allegra Galvin Fig. 53 The main promenade in Teatro Oficina 4 during the inaugural production of Hamlet, 1993 Source: http://teatroficina.uol.com.br Fig. 54 Auditorium of SESC Pompia, Sao Paulo, designed by Lina Bo Bardi, 1977 Source: Allegra Galvin Fig. 55 Scaffolding structure of Teatro Oficina, photo taken from dressing rooms, 2008 Source: Allegra Galvin Fig. 56 The floor to ceiling window of Teatro Oficina, 2008 Source: Allegra Galvin Fig. 57 Performance at Teatro Oficina Source: http://teatroficina.uol.com.br
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Performance at Teatro Oficina Source: http://teatroficina.uol.com.br Walls of the foyer gallery with the frieze painted for The Masque of the Red Death, BAC, 2008 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive Wall of the fireplace room after The Masque of the Red Death closed with pictures from the show still in place, BAC, 2008 Source: Battersea Arts Centre archive
Note: All plans of Battersea Arts Centre from 1899 1925 were found in a canvas folder in Battersea Local History Library. These are not stored with the plans from 1954 1970.
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