Although we designed the early shows, we were always looking forward to the day we could afford to bring that particular set of skills into the collaboration. It brought an eye, an expression, a contribution that would elevate the work we were trying to make.

There are lots of conversations with a designer many months before anything is built. We discuss the initial idea and impetus for the show. I will share starting points and my instinct about the theatrical potential for the show. At this early stage I think the designer is splitting their thoughts between ‘how can I facilitate these ambitions?’ and ‘what is the world that encapsulates these ambitions?’ The first question might be about the detail of making things I want to happen on stage, happen. The second question is much more about the overriding concept for the design. This is the area of thought that I am not equipped to lead on. It can be so exhilarating when a designer responds and presents this world.

The designer cannot simply impose their concept. They must really listen to those first conversations as the set will not simply be a world that the actors perform from. They will interact with it. It should become a character in itself. As in Othello (designer, Laura Hopkins) it can be an emotional, manipulative space illustrating the intensity of an environment and not just a setting. It can build from nothing and then fall apart, illustrating how we construct relationships and ‘truths’ and then find them shattering, as it did in Things I Know to be True (designer, Geoff Cobham).

There will be great demands on that set. It cannot simply look good. I will want to know what else it can do. Can we climb on it? Can we go under it? Can we hang from it? Can this flip over? I will want to explore how our characters interact with it in the rehearsal room which means it needs to be in some kind of realised form for day one of that rehearsal. I don’t think this is normal (or maybe I mean usual) but it makes sense to me. The set is another character that will collaborate and contribute to our understanding of the potential of the production. It needs to be present and robust. The most exciting designers are those that can see this exploration and see the potential of their design change and then respond accordingly.

There was a moment that will live in my mind forever when a production manager told me that, if I wanted that table to survive then I had better start using it more like a table. What he misunderstood was if I also needed it to be used as a bed, as a cliff edge, as a dance floor, as a boxing ring, then it had better be strengthened. I want to explore the use of any prop or element of set. Just like through language and movement, our understanding of the play can change when the set breaks free of the literal and allows itself to be more poetic.

While it might appear that some designs are dictated by the conceptual setting (Othello played out within the tensions of a run-down pub) what is most important is how that set then goes beyond that. Within Stockholm (designed by Laura Hopkins) the set presented elements of a house, but those elements screamed danger. An array of knives in the kitchen may have shown the aspiration of the couple and their joy in cooking together but there was something ominous about them. Their bed would appear at a height of 5 metres making it both comforting and treacherous. Its height made it a safer place to remain in than to leave, despite the obvious toxicity of the couple’s relationship, thus beautifully illustrating Stockholm Syndrome.

Such brilliant design allows an object or a setting to be more than one thing. I think this is what I am always looking for in a design and hopefully my provocations and a designer’s brilliant mind can find a way to achieving that.