Behind the Curtain
Behind the Curtain explores the creative process behind theatrical design—from the first idea to the final moments on stage. It’s a look into my own design process, as well as the designers and productions that inspire me.
 There’s always a unique kind of bittersweet energy that comes with closing a show—especially one that challenged you creatively in all the right ways. As Native Gardens comes to an end, I’ve found myself reflecting not just on the run itself, but on the journey of bringing its world to life on stage. This production was a departure from my usual design approach, and that’s exactly what made it so exciting. From the beginning, I knew the set needed to do more than simply represent two neighboring backyards—it had to tell the story visually. The contrast between the spaces became the heart of the design. Clean lines versus organic growth, control versus chaos, intention versus neglect—these themes guided every choice, from layout to texture to color. What made this process so rewarding was leaning into that contrast without overcomplicating it. Sometimes the most effective storytelling comes from restraint. Finding that balance—where the design supports the narrative without overwhelming it—was both the challenge and the joy of this project. It pushed me to think differently, to simplify in new ways, and to trust that subtle details could carry significant weight. And then, of course, there’s the collaboration. A set never exists in isolation. It lives and breathes with the actors, the lighting, the direction. Watching the space evolve from an idea into a fully realized environment—one that performers could inhabit so naturally—was incredibly fulfilling. By closing night, it no longer felt like a design. It felt like a place.   As we strike the set and say goodbye to this production, I’m walking away with a deep appreciation for the risks it allowed me to take and the creativity it encouraged.
The good news? This isn’t goodbye for long. I’ll be returning later this year to design another production—one that I’m incredibly excited about, even if I can’t share the details just yet. What I can say is that it will bring its own set of challenges and opportunities, and I’m already looking forward to diving into a completely new world. If Native Gardens reminded me of anything, it’s that the most rewarding work often comes from stepping outside of what feels familiar. And I can’t wait to do exactly that again. Until then, thank you to everyone who was part of this journey—onstage, backstage, and in the audience. It’s been a truly memorable experience.
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I recently read a theatre review that made me stop and think not so much about the production itself, but about the way the review was written. The reviewer clearly stated several things they did not like about the show, but in some cases never fully explained why. Opinions were expressed, but the reasoning behind them wasn’t always clear. It got me thinking about the structure of a review and the responsibility critics have to explain what they saw and how they arrived at their conclusions.
I’ve worked in theatre for more than 20 years, and during that time I’ve received my share of reviews. Some have been glowing, some have been critical, and others have fallen somewhere in between. But when I look back, only a handful of those reviews were truly well structured--especially the ones that were not entirely in my favor. Those are the reviews that stay with you, because even when the critique is tough, the reviewer takes the time to explain their perspective. A good review should do more than simply say what worked or didn’t work. It should help the reader understand the reviewer’s experience of the production. Opinion Alone Isn’t Enough Anyone can say they liked or disliked something. A strong review goes further by explaining the reasoning behind those reactions. For example, if a reviewer says the pacing was slow, the acting lacked energy, or the design was distracting, the reader should understand what moments in the production led to that conclusion. What choices created that impression? What specifically caused the reviewer to react the way they did? A Real Example Last year I received a review that included the following critique of the scenic design: “The simple set by Joseph Cummings was almost too simple, with the drop for the eventual Shakespeare play appearing out of nowhere. I did love the false proscenium created for the Oberon Play House, but felt that too many scenes took place or started in the audience, making them hard to watch, especially for audience members close to the stage.” There are actually some things this critique does well. First, the reviewer identifies specific elements: the simplicity of the set, the drop used later in the production, the false proscenium for the Oberon Play House, and the staging of scenes in the audience. This level of specificity is important in any review. It shows that the reviewer was paying attention to design choices and staging decisions rather than making vague generalizations. The reviewer also balances criticism with praise. They mention that they “loved” the false proscenium element, which acknowledges a design feature that worked for them. However, there are also places where the critique could have been stronger. For example, the phrase “almost too simple” raises an interesting point but doesn’t fully explain the reasoning behind the statement. Was the simplicity visually uninteresting? Did it limit the storytelling? Did it fail to establish the world of the play? Expanding on that thought would help readers understand the reviewer’s perspective. Similarly, the comment that the drop “appeared out of nowhere” suggests that the transition felt abrupt, but it doesn’t explain why that moment felt disconnected from the rest of the design. There is also another possibility worth considering. Sometimes when a design choice feels sudden or unexpected to an audience member, it may actually be the result of a deliberate storytelling decision that wasn’t fully communicated or recognized in the moment. Theatre design often relies on visual reveals, shifts in theatrical style, or moments meant to surprise the audience. When those moments occur, a reviewer has an opportunity not only to describe their reaction but also to explore what the creative team may have been attempting to achieve. The final observation about scenes taking place in the audience is actually the most clearly explained part of the critique. The reviewer notes that this staging choice made certain moments difficult to watch for audience members seated close to the stage. This provides context and helps the reader understand the practical impact of the decision. This example highlights an important distinction in criticism: the difference between stating an opinion and fully explaining it. Why Structure Matters One of the best ways to avoid these issues is through a clear structure. A well-organized review helps the writer move through the production thoughtfully rather than jumping from one reaction to another. Most strong theatre reviews include several key elements: Introduction and context The reviewer introduces the play, the playwright, the producing organization, and the venue. Brief overview of the story A short summary helps readers understand the premise without revealing major plot points. Direction and overall concept How did the director approach the material? Did the staging and pacing support the story? Performances Actors are central to any production, and reviewers often highlight standout performances or comment on the ensemble. Design elements Scenic, lighting, costume, and sound design all contribute to the storytelling. Overall impact Finally, the reviewer brings their observations together and discusses how well the production achieved its goals. Following a structure like this allows criticism to develop logically rather than appearing as a series of disconnected comments. Critiquing Without Personal Attacks Another important part of reviewing theatre is maintaining professionalism. Theatre is a collaborative art form, and everyone involved has invested time, energy, and creativity into the production. Even when a reviewer doesn’t enjoy a show, criticism should focus on the work rather than the people behind it. A reviewer can discuss choices that didn’t work, moments that felt unclear, or design elements that didn’t support the story. But those critiques should remain focused on the artistic result, not personal attacks on the artists involved. Thoughtful criticism is honest, but it is also respectful. There is also an additional responsibility that sometimes goes unspoken in theatre criticism: objectivity. Theatre communities, especially at the regional and community level, are often small and interconnected. Critics may personally know directors, designers, or performers involved in a production. Because of this, reviewers should be mindful of potential personal conflicts or biases. If a reviewer has a personal issue with someone involved in the production--or a history that could influence their perspective--it may be worth considering whether they are the right person to review that particular show. Stepping aside in those situations can help maintain the credibility of both the reviewer and the publication. When criticism is written with professionalism, fairness, and transparency, it strengthens the relationship between critics and artists and ultimately supports a healthier theatre community. To Sum It Up At its best, theatre criticism is not about praise or blame. It is about observation, explanation, and thoughtful engagement with the art form. When reviews are written with clarity, structure, and respect, they elevate the conversation around theatre and ultimately serve both audiences and artists alike. One of my favorite parts of theater is the moment when a design idea opens up the storytelling in a new way. That’s exactly what happened while designing the set for Native Gardens. From the beginning, I knew this play thrives on visibility. The comedy, tension, and neighborly rivalry all build from what the characters can see — and what they can’t. So I started asking a simple question: what if we removed the traditional walls altogether? Instead of fully enclosed houses, I chose to eliminate several walls so the audience can see the action unfolding both in the gardens and inside the homes at the same time. This approach lets the audience watch the characters move between public and private spaces without losing the rhythm of the story. Conversations that start outside can spill inside instantly, and moments happening in one house can play visually against what’s happening next door. It creates a layered stage picture that mirrors the escalating conflict between neighbors. It also keeps the audience in on the joke. With open sightlines, viewers get to watch reactions, misunderstandings, and overlapping moments that would normally be hidden behind walls. The result is a stage environment that feels alive and constantly in motion — exactly what this fast-paced comedy needs.  Another highlight of this project has been collaborating with director Lisa Devine again. Working with Lisa is always a joy because she approaches storytelling with such clarity and trust in the design process. From our earliest conversations, we focused on how the space could support the actors and amplify the humor and tension of the script. That collaboration made it easy to explore bold choices like opening up the houses and allowing the audience to see everything unfold in real time.  The gardens may be the battleground of the play, but the homes themselves are just as important. By visually connecting the interiors and exteriors, the set reinforces how personal the conflict becomes — and how thin the line between public politeness and private frustration really is. The show opens March 6th and runs through March 21st, and I’m incredibly excited for audiences to experience this world we’ve built. Buy Tickets Here Cast, Crew, and Designers for Native Gardens  One of the most exciting stages of any production happens long before the audience ever takes their seats—when the design begins to take shape through collaboration. As we begin work on Native Gardens, I’m thrilled to dive into the creative process alongside the director to develop a visual world that fully supports the story being told on stage.
Our upcoming design meetings will focus on exploring the themes embedded within the script and uncovering how they can be expressed visually. Native Gardens is rich with layered ideas—identity, ownership, legacy, and the often-unspoken tensions that exist just beneath the surface of polite society. Together, we’ll dig deeper into the text, examining character motivations, tonal shifts, and moments of contrast to inform every design choice. This collaborative process allows us to move beyond what’s simply written on the page and ask bigger questions: What does this world feel like? How can the set reflect both the order and chaos that coexist in this story? By approaching the design as a conversation—between director, designer, and script—we’re able to challenge initial assumptions and push toward a fresh, fully realized visual interpretation. These discussions often lead to unexpected discoveries, inspiring an entirely new visualization of the space that elevates the storytelling. I look forward to sharing more as the design evolves and Native Gardens continues to grow from the page into a vibrant, living world on stage. Designing Native Gardens at MainStage: A Fresh Creative Journey Begins I’m excited to share that I’ve officially begun the design process for MainStage Irving-Las Colinas’ upcoming production of Native Gardens, directed by the incredibly talented Lisa Devine. Many will remember Lisa’s beautiful work last season on Into the Breeches, where she brought a perfect blend of humor, heart, and humanity to the stage. I’m thrilled to collaborate with her again—this time on a play that mixes sharp comedy with timely themes of boundaries, identity, and the idea of what truly makes a home. Early Design Phase: A Blank Canvas With Big Possibilities Right now, I’m in the earliest stages of conceptualizing the world of our production. This is always my favorite part—the moment where anything is possible. Before sketches, elevations, or models, it’s all about absorbing the script, talking through ideas with Lisa, and discovering what makes this version of Native Gardens unique. While many productions take a literal, realistic approach to the neighboring backyards central to the story, Lisa and I are fascinated by the play’s deeper themes: ownership, perspective, cultural contrast, and the idea of nature as both battleground and bridge. This has opened the door to exploring a design that leans more conceptual, symbolic, and visually expressive than you might expect for this show. This production will look entirely different from previous stagings of Native Gardens. We’re aiming for something bold. Something unexpected. Something that frames the humor and tension of the play in a fresh visual language—one that invites audiences to experience the story from a new angle. Click below to purchase your tickets! |
