by Commensal & Hexagon technical director Alex Grew

So much of an audience’s perception of a play comes from what they see, and often this begins and ends with the set. A good set can leave the audience feeling happy with a production and give a sense of professionalism, when even fantastic acting cannot fully ameliorate the negative effects of a bad set on the mood of a crowd spilling into the theatre. Set-building is also not without its challenges, of which I’ve seen my fair share, from laying fifty metres of turf in the theatre to constructing a dozen flats in its foyer.

Whilst actors have weeks to rehearse and perfect their parts, the technical team have only a few days to completely transform a venue, and therefore time can be the biggest challenge in set construction. Keeping things simple-to-construct is key, however this does not necessarily mean a simple set. In our production of Jez Butterworth’s Jerusalem, the challenge was in making a set that looked busy and complex but remained relatively simple to construct – with the exception of laying turf into the early hours of the morning – as the majority of the set pieces were created from existing pieces of garden furniture. The major challenge, though, came in putting together a full-sized aluminium caravan in just a few hours, and steel erection has become one of the team’s specialities in putting up large set pieces in a very short period of time.

Sticking within a tight budget encourages simple design, but sometimes you just have to get creative to save money, and this is where the fun begins. To create an old street lamp for Plenty, we attached a cheap house light to a spray-painted scaffold pole, and for ’Tis Pity we raided several members of the production team’s rooms for bookcases and cabinets, as well as borrowing sofas from a college bar.

However great a set concept is, the difficulty is always making it a reality, and in my experience constructing set pieces – particularly large flats and steel platforms – is where things get tricky. The main reason for this is simply finding construction space, especially in student venues. In very few theatres do you have access to a workshop, and living in shared accommodation makes finding somewhere to construct quite difficult, especially in the otherwise tranquil buildings of Oxford. During the construction of the set for Plenty, Andrew and I ended up constructing flats and painting panels around the outside of the theatre in an attempt to find enough space to build such a large number of wooden pieces in very few days, and with no storage besides the stage itself. At one point we had flats in both levels of the theatre foyer as well as in every empty space we could find within the theatre – it was at this point that cast members of another show arrived, and we realised that a matinée performance was beginning in under an hour. The frantic carrying of semi-dry wooden flats up multiple flights of stairs led us to a seminar room, which was subsequently filled with flats and construction materials.

As silly as it sounds, set building is most fun not when it goes right, but when it goes wrong, with the solutions to many problems providing many amusing stories.

With experience building iconic sets in tiny studios – the eerie white ribs and suspended portholes of Endgame in the BT Studio, for example – and wildly ambitious sets for the 180-seat O’Reilly – such as the forest clearing and caravan of Jerusalem and the flying tree of Plenty – Alex was a key member of the technical teams on Endgame, ’Tis Pity, Othello, Jerusalem, Plenty and Citric Acid.

by theatre photographer, Ollie Robinson

Theatre photography above all else lures you in. A meticulously constructed environment, designed specifically to be seen, populated by thespians keen for (let’s admit) edgy social media glory. Theatre work is nowhere near as frustrating as capturing the split-second glory in sports, or avoiding the spilled Jägerbombs at events. But still, the stage is a mixed bag. I could even talk about the times I dodged pyrotechnics, or the shrapnel from an exploding mug, but I don’t like to be called a hero…

Time is the first illusion. Shooting an hour long play should fit in easily around all the other work I definitely should have already done, but a dress rehearsal running on time has yet to be documented. So it helps to either to have the virtue of patience, or to have already started that essay on the virtues of Plato due at the same time. Light is almost as unpredictable, since without flash most cameras give up, especially when the actors are lost in darkness or swallowed by blinding psychedelic pink. The miracle of a wide aperture prime lens is something I learned one play too late, since actors staying motionless long enough not to blur is uncommon in a play most likely to be about sex and stabbing. But when the camera sensors can pick up enough light, theatre shots can turn out some of the best, having dramatic illumination while being more dynamic than the poses of fashion photography.

The theatre experience itself is surprisingly enjoyable through a lens. The nearness of the actors makes it easy to get absorbed: several captivated minutes have definitely passed when I was just watching through the viewfinder without remembering to actually take pictures. Pretending to be professional in a student environment also gives a welcome excuse to creep further onto stage. Getting in close gives a flexibility of perspective and raw pixel quality that can set photos apart, although it’s still unknown whether the actors’ lack of complaints is from their professionalism or for their love of a good profile picture.

But even with the occasional challenges, theatre photography is a great way to hone the skill of managing extremes of light, while still feeling the atmosphere of an excellent performance. Even when the actors share your photos with added speech bubbles: who says culture is dead?

Ollie was production photographer for Commensal’s ’Tis Pity and Jerusalem, as well as Hexagon Theatre’s Othello and Plenty, and starred in the RadCam Pictures film James. He earned a degree in Philosophy and Theology from the University of Oxford at the same time, and his services can be found at www.oliverrobinsonphotography.com.

A couple of weeks ago, the university-wide Drama Cuppers Festival once again catapulted fifty teams of freshers interested in theatre onto the stage at Oxford’s BT Studio, with three weeks’ preparation and fifty pounds to put on their shows. All that theatre fervour reminded me of my first experience with student drama, as our team took Robert Khan and Tom Salinsky’s Coalition fresh from the Edinburgh Fringe to the Oxford stage in November 2012. The experience threw together the teammates who would eventually start the Commensal and Hexagon theatre companies, and go on to produce Endgame, ’Tis Pity, Othello, Jerusalem, Plenty and Citric Acid. Graduating university and leaving behind such a close drama community, I thought it was a good time to look at some of the advice which most benefited us as student thesps, and what has gone on to benefit us after graduation.

Get involved in every project that comes along

Depending on your subject, it can sometimes be a struggle simply to deal with your course-load. Nonetheless, university is one of the only periods in your career where it is acceptable to juggle as many projects as you can handle, and not face trouble if you drop one. With that in mind, seize every offer of collaboration that comes your way. Most university cities will be filled with theatres taking productions of varying size and ambit, perfect for giving you experience in leading roles for some projects, and helping at the fringes of others. Networking and variety are key to a successful theatre career: be nice to everyone (it really isn’t difficult) from the directors and producers to the casts and the technical crews, and you will find a steady stream of gigs being sent your way.

The group who put together Coalition went on to produce six more projects through close friendships and mutual respect – show that you’re keen to work hard in a variety of roles, and people will want to work with you on their next idea. The other benefit to taking small positions on a range of shows is that you’ll soon be in a position to bring like-minded people together for new projects, putting you into more serious roles on new-writing plays (like Citric Acid) or invitations to join tours (Issues) and innovative plays in new spaces (like Othello). You also get the benefit not only of front-row seats to every show in town, but to see leading actors develop their own careers on your productions over time, and that is a great reason to be in theatre.

Start an independent brand

As Barry Saltzman pointed out in a recent article for Fast Company, “personal branding is essential to career success”. He argues that maintaining a personal brand encourages you to defend your now-public reputation through continued success, and motivates you to chase increasingly high standards as you watch your brand stand up against others. During the development phase for Endgame, it was director Will Felton who established his Commensal Theatre brand, an umbrella which covered myself as producer, and our technical director Sean Ford. The group evolved as new projects retained the same teams, consistently seeing production manager Eshan Shah and technicians Mina Odile and Alex Grew come aboard from ’Tis Pity through to Jerusalem. Bringing these core skill areas in-house led to an atmosphere of commitment to the team, and to the shows we were delivering. We found ourselves pushing the fold creatively and technically, both with regard to the type of material we decided to tackle, the sets we were creating, the effects we were applying and, ultimately, the audiences we were receiving.

It is well worth setting up a new production company, even with the smallest project you manage. Josh Dolphin, director of Citric Acid, channelled the profits from the show into a portfolio for his new brand Koma Kino, and is now looking to deliver a series of comedies and dramas at the BT Studio in Oxford throughout the next year. The importance of setting up a company is often overlooked in student drama, most often because it is seen simply as a source of funding, or is considered irrelevant because that funding comes from elsewhere. Yet as experience and research makes clear, a company is about branding as much as business, and a lot of progress can be made with the motivation that a brand gives you.

Work with directors who demand the impossible

The most important thing I realised during my work in student theatre was something pointed out one day by our technical director, Sean Ford: you need to find a director who demands the impossible. Within the environment of a well-motivated theatre company, everyone should be encouraged to aim for professional standard – you will be surprised at the extent to which money (of which you will have surprisingly little) can be replaced by effort and willpower. Particularly in student theatre, where there are no unions and everyone is balancing the production with their degree work, long and unusual hours are the norm, but a can-do attitude is all that is necessary for success. Our production manager on ’Tis Pity worked a couple of sixteen hour days immediately before the show opened, and his work made a huge impact on the success of the show – naturally, everyone involved wanted to collaborate again.

The director is, at the end of the day, often the person with the most to lose on a production. However, appeasing their desire for the impossible is nothing to do with massaging their ego. Wherever you stand within a production team, make your own association with the project the source of your motivation to see it succeed. Whether you end up turfing stages, building trees, serving lemonade, hanging portholes from ceilings or transporting a caravan across the country, realising that your director’s demands are good ideas and putting everything behind them will bring you some very successful years in student theatre.