Lights, Sound, Story
- Moira McDow

- Jun 30
- 3 min read
Theatre, at its heart, is a storytelling medium. Long before microphones, LED walls, or programmable moving lights, people gathered around firelight to share stories—funny ones, tragic ones, heroic ones. These stories survived not because of their spectacle, but because they spoke to something real, something human.
As theatre evolved, so did its tools. But one truth has remained constant through the centuries: no amount of technical flair can replace the power of a well-told story, and no story can truly soar if it's obscured by poor execution.
Whether you're staging Shakespeare in a black box or debuting an original musical in a community hall, the technical elements of theatre—lighting, sound, set, costume, and backstage movement—exist to serve the story. When done right, they’re invisible. When done poorly, they can steal focus, break immersion, and undermine the performers on stage. Audiences will forgive modest budgets, but what they can struggle to forgive is confusion, distraction, or carelessness.
In Poetics, Aristotle identified six elements of drama—plot, character, thought, diction, melody, and spectacle—with spectacle ranked last. And for good reason: the most memorable theatre moments often come not from elaborate stagecraft, but from a single voice, a raw emotion, a silent beat that lands like thunder.
Great theatre starts with a great story. It’s built by performers who believe in that story, and sustained by a crew that honours it through their precision, timing, and care.
“The Father” by Florian Zeller (staged in London and later on Broadway) used a deceptively simple set and tight lighting cues to convey the shifting reality of dementia. Reviewers praised its minimalism and clarity: “stripped-back staging enhances rather than limits the emotional impact.”
National Theatre’s “Our Country’s Good” by Timberlake Wertenbaker (UK) featured actors shifting between roles and moving simple set pieces themselves. The story of convicts creating theatre in a penal colony came alive through precision, restraint, and powerful performance—not spectacle.
Cape Town’s Baxter Theatre production of “The Road to Mecca” (Athol Fugard) used subdued lighting and sparse set design to honour Fugard’s writing. Reviews noted how the technical subtlety allowed Helen’s inner world to shine through, unencumbered by artifice.
Even Broadway’s “Come From Away”, a hit musical, relied on a bare-bones set and clever movement of chairs to transform locations. Reviewers consistently praised its “unfussy staging” that “centres story and community over razzle-dazzle.”
In amateur or community theatre, budgets are tight and experience levels vary—but intention is everything. Audiences know the difference between limited resources and a lack of preparation. A stripped-down production can be profoundly moving when the technical elements, however simple, are executed with precision and when the story is well told.
It’s not about having the fanciest lighting rig or the biggest set changes. It’s about sound that works when it needs to. Cues that are called with confidence. Transitions that don’t steal attention. And above all, a story that is believed, lived, and shared.
At The Thespian, we’ve seen time and again that the productions that leave lasting impressions aren’t always the flashiest—they’re the ones where story leads, and every element, technical or otherwise, supports that vision with care and clarity.
So to every theatre company, from high school to fringe festival to regional stage: keep the story at the centre. Refine your cues. Honour your audience's experience, and trust that when theatre is done with heart and intention, even the simplest production can be unforgettable.

Comments