A temporary theatre by Hayworth Tompkins at the National Theatre in London highlights ambiguities in the design of Denys Lasdun’s fine original design (1977)
A red-stained
timber box with distinctive corner ventilation towers, ‘The Shed’ is a
temporary performance space by Hayworth Tompkins, clamped like a siege engine onto
the front of the sober concrete terraces of the National Theatre. It has its own ground level entrance, reached
via a ramp carrying visitors across Lasdun’s defensive brick plinth. Simply connected to the existing interior via
a large window opening from which the glass has been removed, ply furniture and
suspended red lamps establish a discrete identity for The Shed foyer on the
periphery of the existing Lyttelton foyer.
Refreshingly, this jolly red carbuncle establishes a second theatre
accessible from the ground level Lyttelton foyer, the de facto main foyer of
the National Theatre. The new
performance space works very well, apart from rather narrow seats and poor
acoustic separation, which allows the interval hubbub of the Lyttelton audience
to infiltrate the space.
An architect may imagine many different
configurations during the design of a project, but never know how these might
affect the dynamic of a building, or how well they would have worked in
practice. Temporary buildings provide a
welcome opportunity to test ideas without the burden of permanence. At Stratford, Ian Ritchie Architects built a
temporary theatre for the Royal Shakespeare Company, which was used to test the
scale and sight-lines proposed in the permanent auditorium by Bennetts Associates.
Whilst
working on the masterplan for the National Theatre at Stanton Williams in the
early ‘90’s, I became aware of the shortcomings of a building which I greatly
admired. Although universally known as ‘The National
Theatre’ or more often, simply ‘The National’, there are three
auditoria: the Lyttelton, a traditional proscenium arrangement; the Cottesloe,
a more intimate black box studio and the Olivier, inspired by the
Greek theatre at Epidaurus. Each theatre
has an associated foyer. The Cottesloe
is completely separated, with its own entrance, while the foyers of the Olivier
and Lyttelton auditoria are linked. Although
the Olivier is the largest auditorium, it is high up in the building and its grand
foyer is generally quieter than that of the Lyttelton, which is more accessibly
located at ground level, to one side of the main entrance. There
is an unresolved question at the National: is it one theatre with three
auditoria or three theatres in one building?
The remote entrance to the Cottesloe and linkage of the spacious
multi-level foyers of the Olivier and Lyttelton at ground level only, are almost guaranteed to induce panic or, at best confusion, in the first-time visitor or late arrival.
It seems that
Lasdun conceived the Olivier foyer, with its elevated position and privileged
views, as the centre of gravity of the publically accessible spaces in the
building, but that this intended status was undermined by its remoteness form the
main entrance. The problem was
compounded by the removal of the elevated walkway, which in theory allowed a
neutral entry, midway between the Lyttelton and Olivier foyer levels (the
ground level perimeter of the building was originally an access road). With all entry now at ground level, most
visitors enter the skewed main entrance, derived from the geometry of the
Olivier above, but then veer off to the less generous Lyttelton foyer. People are led through a building by what
they can see: faced with a choice between grand stairs leading to an uncertain
destination and a congenial space at ground level, most will tend to stay at
ground level. And this is where The Shed
works extremely well, demonstrating the benefit of arranging public spaces so
they are legible, even to the first-time visitor.
