SHR7C010G~002 Braiding The Vision- How Work Moves, Who Gets Seen

by

This reflective journal chronicles the development of my understanding of programming as a form of structural dramaturgy within contemporary theatre institutions. The enquiry emerged through my placement mentorship with Ben Power and developed through observation, professional dialogue, and reflective engagement with institutional practice; particularly through discussions of his work curating The Shed at the National Theatre. As Associate Director of the National Theatre in 2010, he went on to become Artistic lead and head of programming for The Shed (2013-2014) and then promoted to Deputy Artistic Director (2015). Dramaturg and adaptor first, not director, his appointment was widely considered unusually early in the National Theatre career trajectory.

My initial interest lay in the variegation of programming and the platforming of emerging artists. However, engagement with institutional processes revealed that the central issue was not simply one of representation or uniqueness, but of structure. When institutions predominantly programme long-run productions on large stages, the structural conditions required for emerging artists to progress toward institutional recognition may not exist. Programming is not just scheduling or curation. It shapes how artistic pathways are built. Reflecting on my own experience across performance and production, I began to recognise patterns that had previously felt inaccessible, informal codes around how work is developed, positioned, and brought into institutional spaces. Is it possible that codes exist for programming and are they open to their own rewrites?

Anthropologist Tim Ingold describes social practices as interwoven lines forming a “meshwork” (2011, p.63) rather than a fixed hierarchy. Applying this concept to theatre leans into artistic careers emerging through the braiding together of relationships, institutions, and creative collaborative processes. My placement disclosed how dramaturgy, programming, mentorship, and artistic collaboration act as intertwined strands within the wider ecology of theatre-making.

The temporary performance space of The Shed revealed the example of how shifts in scale, format, and spatial arrangement can modify institutional risk and advance the visibility of new artists. Albeit the structure itself was temporary, the programming model it enabled raised abiding questions about institutional permeability and renewal. This journal therefore considers programming as a form of macro-dramaturgy, the shaping of meaning, opportunity, and artistic progression across a season rather than within a single text.

Through analysis of placement observations, interviews with producers and artistic leaders, rehearsal and casting room observation, and engagement with key texts, this enquiry investigates how programming structures influence artistic development within institutional theatre. The central research question guiding this journal is:

How can programming function as structural dramaturgy to reshape institutional access between emerging and established artists while maintaining artistic rigour and public responsibility?

Strand One: Practice and Method

This enquiry has grown out of practice rather than distance. Moving between mentored dialogue, applied dramaturgical practice, rehearsal observational study, and interviews with professionals across theatre and television allowed me to not follow a single defined role, but position me as an observant participant shifting between programming discussions, script development, rehearsal observation, and commissioning conversations. A pivotal moment in clarifying my own direction occurred during an in-house workshop with my tutor, where we collectively explored the future of theatre and the kinds of roles we might occupy within it (see fig 1, 2 and 3) The exercise asked us to consider not only where we might situate ourselves within the industry, but how our work could influence the structures that support it. Listening to the different positions my peers imagining for themselves, prompted a shift in my thinking. I began to realise that my interest was not only in directing or dramaturgy as separate practices, but in the wider systems around the work: who gets platformed, how opportunities are shaped, and what conditions allow new artists to emerge. The learning around this process unfolds through several overlapping strands, some in mentorship, the study of dramaturgical work, in-house observations, and many industry conversations, which gradually braids together to shape my understanding of programming and artistic leadership.

A major component of the placement consisted of a sustained, regular relationship with my mentor Ben Power. These sessions were both methodical but wide-ranging, comprising textual analysis, programming architecture, risk adjusting, and established leadership. On task, I was invited to read and provide dramaturgical feedback on a new play in development by Ben, engaging directly with questions of clarity, scale, and narrative arc. This applied engagement deepened my understanding of dramaturgy not only as textual mediation but as strategic positioning within organisational theory. I read the play as a dramaturg commissioner, taking into account the page to stage model.

Simultaneously, I conducted interviews with producers and commissioners working in both scripted and unscripted commercial contexts. These conversations, along with their backgrounds as drama executives,  highlighted how commissioning logics centred on conceptual precision, originality, and audience viability, directing the approach on how things are made today. Observational work within rehearsal and casting spaces exposed graduated layers of gatekeeping, trust, and openness. These varied contexts allowed for comparative analysis between broadcast commissioning, theatrical programming, and rehearsal-room authority. 

Because the placement involved close engagement with mentors and industry practitioners, reflection has been central to this journal. My position was not that of an outside observer but of a participant working within the heart of the systems I was analysing. The reflections that follow therefore arise from rooted engagement with professional practice, a method often described within qualitative research as auto-ethnographic reflection (Adams, Holman Jones, and Ellis, 2015).

This methodological approach aligns with creative practice research models reflecting Robin Nelson’s (2013) multi-mode approach to Practice as Research, in which knowledge is generated through the interplay of practice, reflection, and critical framing. This reflects a “doing–thinking” approach, where practice and reflection operate together as a testing ground for dramaturgical and leadership development (Nelson, 2013). My placement enabled and encouraged me to do both. The art of application is how I learn. 

Providing dramaturgical notes on Powers new play in development allowed me to investigate my critical analysis of text specifically. In this instance, I interrogated the density of political and journalistic references, questioning their legibility for audiences beyond specific contextual familiarity. The subsequent dialogue clarified the distinction between necessary specificity and potential opacity. This exchange reinforced my understanding of dramaturgy as mediation, not dilution of complexity, but calibration of clarity. It also marked a shift in my own professional confidence: from absorbing institutional thinking to actively testing it.

Alongside mentorship with Power, I conducted professional conversations with practitioners including Naomi Sumner Chan (Leeds Playhouse), Dramaturg Tonderai Munyevu, Choreographer and Dramaturg Andy Gardiner, and Director Beth Knight.

Taken together, these experiences demonstrate how the placement functioned as a braided process of learning. Mentorship, dramaturgical practice, institutional observation, and industry dialogue formed intersecting strands through which my understanding of programming, artistic development, and leadership began to evolve. While this first strand of the enquiry focuses on practice and method, the next examines the institutional structures within which these practices operate.

Strand 2 : Institutional Ecology

Alongside the methodological strand of this enquiry, another line of learning emerged through observing how institutions and organisations actually function. My placement uncovered a range of professional backgrounds which revealed theatre and the television industry not as a single system but as a network of  principles, ranking, and managerial processes. Conversations with practitioners across these channels and independent production began to map a broader preservation of how artistic work moves from concept to platform, and how the establishments regulate both opportunity and risk.

In discussions around the programming of The Shed at the National Theatre with Power, he highlighted how institutional architecture directly shapes artistic possibility. The Shed operated as a temporary interposition designed to recalibrate scale and risk, allowing experimental work and emerging artists to appear within a major national institution. What became clear through these conversations was that programming decisions are rarely neutral. They operate as structural interventions that shape the conditions under which work can develop and be encountered.

I began to realise when looking through this lens, that instead of adjusting the shape of the internal structure of a single text, programming contours the wider landscape in which theatre makers and audiences meet. Changes in scale, duration, format, or spatial arrangement can significantly alter who gains access to institutional platforms and how new work is received. The Shed demonstrated how a shift in format alone could create space for artists and forms that might otherwise struggle to appear within larger auditoria.

Visiting with co-ordinators working in regional producing theatres reinforced this organisational perspective. In talking with Naomi Sumner Chan at Leeds Playhouse, (2025) it became obvious that programming overall inside regional theatres had to balance between artistic ambition, audience expansion, and financial amercement. While these theatres often champion their role in developing new work and emerging artists, they also operate within programming structures that restrict the number of available production slots each season. This tension highlights the importance of why thoughtful and intended development pathways are intrinsic to allow artists to progress from smaller-scale experimentation toward larger institutional platforms, thus changing the system from how it operates, now, to something more sustainable.

This structural perspective was reinforced through conversations with practitioners working beyond the subsidised theatre sector. Interviews with television producers, scripted and non scripted, revealed commissioning processes driven less by finished scripts than by conceptual clarity. Commissioners repeatedly emphasised the importance of the central idea, (Frost, 2026; Lawson, 2026; November, 2026) why the work needs to exist and what distinguishes it from everything else already in circulation. The balance between universality and originality was particularly striking. Although these conversations took place within a different medium, the underlying logic mirrored theatrical programming decisions, where institutional leaders must similarly balance innovation with audience recognition. This was backed up in conversation with television drama producers Steve Frost and Hayley November. Frost (2026) emphasised that commissioning decisions rarely begin with completed scripts, more the pitch itself. Simply, he argued that the key question is whether the core idea is compelling: why the story needs to exist and what distinguishes it from the many other concepts in development. This focus on theoretical clarity rather than finished text, parallels theatrical programming decisions, where creative leaders must balance originality with audience acceptance. Talking this through, reinforced my understanding that artistic work nearly always enters a space through ideas and relationships rather than finished artefacts, highlighting how programming and commissioning function as gatekeeping mechanisms within the wider artistic picture.

Another strand of insight emerged through conversations about the relational nature of creative industries. Writers frequently function as central thought processes within production ecosystems, advocating for collaborators they trust and assembling teams capable of delivering complicated work. These networks can empower strong creative partnerships built on familiarity and shared language much as we have studied in relation to collaborative methods. At the same time, they raise important questions about nepotism. If opportunities circulate primarily within existing relationships, emerging practitioners may find it difficult to access established working hierarchies and asking if they could ever be a part of them.

Observational work within rehearsal and casting environments added further character to this bigger picture. Rehearsal rooms revealed the subtle exchange of authority between director, performer, and text, while casting sessions exposed the ‘real’ realities of selection and gatekeeping, and even potential bias. What became increasingly visible was the importance of trust and stakes in both creative environments. Directors and producers often return to collaborators whose working methods they already understand. This is widely seen in theatre makers globally who work in family and complementary collaborations. While this continuity can strengthen artistic processes, it also contributes to patterns of repeated collaboration that shape who is invited back into institutional spaces.

How artists first engage in their early professional careers shows how important it is with organisational environments and the exposure they offer. Lynette Linton (2023) has spoken about how she did not initially realise directing was even a viable career until she experienced rehearsal processes through the National Youth Theatre. At this point, I questioned what Linton had also, that accessibility can remain largely invisible and inaccessible to emerging practitioners and by having these spaces, understanding the way theatre is made and the people who shape it is paramount.

Merging these lines of practice reveals the theatre industry less as a hierarchy and more as a board of experts helping make decisions. This is what creates the braid. Commissioning, programming, casting, rehearsals, collaboration, building teams and mentorship began to open up a further question which has become central to my enquiry. They all operate as intersectional processes which artistic work is produced and legitimised.

So if organisational structures play such a compelling role in shaping creative pathways, how might programming models be consciously designed to widen those pathways while maintaining artistic rigour?

Strand Three: Programming as Structural Dramaturgy

Through my placement experiences, I began to recognise that the most significant barriers facing emerging artists are not necessarily artistic but structural. Conversations with practitioners and observations within institutional environments revealed three recurring challenges: limited programming opportunities, the circulation of work through established relational networks, and a lack of procedural transparency regarding how new work moves from concept to production.

Institutional theatres operate within highly constrained programming frameworks. The limited number of productions per year from large-scale venues often entails long rehearsal periods and extended performance runs. This in itself impedes the number of entry points available to upcoming artists and whilst understanding that the model supports high production values and audience stability, without smaller or experimental programming structures, new artists may struggle to gain the visibility required to progress toward larger platforms.

As Ben Power observed during our discussions about programming and artistic leadership, “Policy is who you work with.” (2026).  This simple but artful statement highlights the relational element of programming. While traditionally seasons are often framed in terms of themes or an artistic vision, its the artists who are invited into the space that ultimately shapes the structure. Programming therefore becomes an act of relational dramaturgy, placing artists alongside one another in ways that reveal connections between forms, ideas, and audiences.

The challenge therefore becomes compounded by the relational nature of the creative world. In both theatre and television collaborations develop frequently through trusted professional networks with each role advocating for whom they have previously worked. Writers, Directors, Producers, Performers and if delved further, most likely the technical backstage industry too, build teams based on reliability and creative alignment. These relationships can, enable efficient and cohesive artistic processes, though they also limit possibilities on anyone breaking through.

In further discussions with industry professionals, I also became aware of a third barrier: the lack of education surrounding practical pathways that give an artist clarity in moving from writing to production. For an emerging artist, the sequence of steps required to develop work is rarely transparent. Pitching, development, institutional engagement, generating contact is a grey area and many artists operate without clear knowledge of how ideas move through commissioning or programming systems.

These observations led me to reconsider programming not simply as the presentation but as a call to recognise that the way we organise and programme art determines what kind of art gets made and who gets to make it. If dramaturgy traditionally mediates between text and audience, programming can be understood as dramaturgy, choosing which actions are highlighted, which are invisible, and how the institution “speaks” to its audience.

One way to overcome these structural barriers is to rethink how programming slots are configured. If we experimented with models that distribute resources across multiple smaller works, this would allow the freedom to reconfigure the allocation of an entire programming period from a single production. For example, a programming slot might accommodate several shorter runs, double bills, festival style presentations and room for new tested theatre models. This could then create additional entry points for new artists while still maintaining oversight and curatorial rigour.

This new approach does not imply a lowering of creative and artistic standards. Rather, it highlights and recognises scale and rehearsal structures that subsequently delay and even obstruct the development of new voices. By developing programming formats that diversify, institutions can create platforms where artists can refine their work, expand audience exposure and progress to larger scale productions. 

The Shed at the National Theatre provides a valuable example of how spatial and programming experimentation can recalibrate institutional risk. By creating a smaller and more flexible performance space, the institution enabled work that might not have been viable within its larger auditoria. This temporary intervention demonstrated how adjustments to scale, duration, and format can significantly expand opportunities for experimentation.This aligns with Nelson’s understanding of Practice as Research as operating across multiple modes of knowledge (2013).

Conclusively, this placement has fortified my opinion that programming should be understood as a form of structural dramaturgy. The how and why we design a season, including the number of productions, the length of the runs and the distribution of resources, actively shape the evolution of theatrical forms. Programming must remain adaptable, forging pathways in which the new voices of theatre can develop and eventually return at larger scale.

Understanding programming in this way reframes the season not simply as a schedule of productions, but as a dramaturgical structure shaping how artists and audiences encounter one another across time. The next strand of this enquiry turns to the human dimension of this system: how individual artists navigate these structures, and how moments of recognition and advocacy influence their progression within institutional ecosystems.

Strand Four: Artist Pathways and Recognition

A key moment during my placement invited this relational dimension into particularly sharp focus. I was asked to test my dramaturgical skills on a new play in development. My feedback was to be open, rigorous and coherent. In this role I centred on character dimensionality and the density of political and journalistic references. I questioned whether certain contextual elements risked overshadowing the emotional core of the play.

The subsequent dialogue clarified an important distinction for me between necessary specificity and defensive overwriting. The playwright reflected that some of the density had emerged from a degree of self-consciousness about placing serious public figures in emotionally exposed situations. What became clear through this exchange was that dramaturgy operates not as simplification, but refines clarity while keeping the complexity intact.

The feedback I received described my notes as “precise” and “actionable,” which marked a significant shift in my own professional confidence. I identified that my dramaturgical instincts were valid and at the same time contributory. Albeit, expected at this professional level, in that moment my position subtly shifted from student observing to emerging practitioner.

The thematic focus of the play, questions of self-worth and the desire to be seen, resonated unexpectedly with my own experience within the placement. The recognition of my dramaturgical clarity, functioned as a parallel moment of professional visibility. This mentorship deepened my sensitivity to relational artistic validation and supported my interest in curating structures that allow such recognition to occur more equitably.

A related insight emerged through discussions about authorship and influence within television drama. Frost (2026) affirmed that writers are often the main central creative force within production systems, often advocating for the creatives they wish to collaborate with. However, the battle to get work commissioned from the writer’s perspective is often in the hands of producers and chief executives. In that sense, no ‘team’ is truly formed until all the necessary strands are brought together into a coherent whole.

Linton’s leadership at the Bush Theatre also reiterated the relevance of artists being able to return with subsequent work rather than appearing only once, and institutions creating an environment for that to be possible. This framing and approach reveals development as an on-going fluid relationship rather than a single opportunity, holding accountability for institutions to play a significant role in sustaining artists trajectories. Linton also introduced initiatives such as open rehearsal rooms, allowing emerging practitioners to observe the creative process and gain insight into the roles involved in making theatre. These gentle ideas acknowledge that an artists development rarely occurs in isolation. Instead, it emerges through networks of mentorship, advocacy, and opportunity. (Linton, 2023)

Visualised through this lens, the progression of artists within institutions becomes part of the wider ecology of theatre-making. Excellence remains central, but recognition and advocacy often determine whether artists are invited back at greater scale. Moments of visibility, where an artist’s insight or work is recognised within institutional contexts, can therefore play a significant role in shaping professional trajectories. 

Seen in relation to these examples, artistic leadership begins to resemble a process of weaving rather than directing. The artistic director alongside the programmer is the bond in not only selecting productions but brining together opportunities, creatives and organisational resources that allow new voices to emerge. When these strands align, particularly in mentorship, advocacy, programming and collaboration, artists can move from early experimentation toward main scale recognition.

“Dramaturgy is always strategic… it’s about facilitating the connection between artist, audience, and the work.” (Power, 2026). Introspectively within the broader function of dramaturgy, Ben Power described the role as naturally strategic, positioned between artist, audience, and the work itself. This viewpoint broadens dramaturgy beyond the analysis of text, implying that the dramaturg blends within a wider circle of relationships that shape how artistic ideas are communicated and received.

The Emerging Braid: Future Leadership Practice

The insights gained through this placement have significantly clarified where my professional interests lie within the theatre industry. While my training has encompassed dramaturgy, directing, and producing, my experience explored throughout this journal have gradually knotted together to reveal a deeper interest in shifting focus from producing solitary content to cultivating collaborative knowledge networks that integrate human insight and more of it.

In the immediate future I understand that working within a structured organisation or institutional environment will help deepen my value in artistic leadership and programming logistics. Theatres such as The National Theatre, regional producing houses and development focused organisations offer the opportunities that are important to observe how programming decisions are negotiated across all departments ranging from artists to financial and public facing responsibilities. Roles afforded in my early career pathway such as associate dramaturg, artistic associate or development producer would allow me to contribute my findings while continuing to develop my understanding of institutional decision-making.

At the same time, the placement has encouraged me to think beyond a single organisational pathway. More and more, I am drawn to a more shifted model of artistic leadership, one that moves between houses than staying fixed within one structure. Being able to use my dramaturgical and producing practices across a wider network allows my model to be more curatorial and form intersecting lines of collaboration rather than a single hierarchical route.These intersecting processes reflect a way of thinking that prioritises relational lines over fixed structures (Ingold, 2011).

The appeal of this orbit lies in its capacity to affect the change needed in a shorter period of time across multiple institutions. By working with a vast number of collaborators, whether in development, seasonal planning, temporary programming interventions and emerging artists, it affords me the flexibility to experiment with programming formats to make that leap from testing to institutional recognition. In this medium, I can shape the conditions under which new work can emerge and operate programming as structural intervention, whilst maintaining artistic standards expected of major cultural institutions. 

However, the placement also made clear that this kind of influence cannot be exercised without credibility. Institutional trust is built gradually through sustained engagement, collaborative reliability, and a consistent commitment to artistic quality. Developing these attributes within established organisations will therefore form an essential foundation before attempting to shape programming structures more independently.

Looking forward, I see my future practice as operating at the intersection of dramaturgy, producing, and programming. Working as a multi-hyfinite, I enjoy the lacing where practices meet. In my career leading up to this, I have already demonstrated my desire to work and contribute in creating conditions in which new voices can emerge and now its about maintaining that artistic rigour at institutional level. 

Seen in relation to the strands explored throughout this journal, practice, institutional ecology, programming structures, and artist pathways, my developing trajectory can be understood as part of a wider braid. 

Leadership in all capacities does not reside in a single position or title, but in the ability to weave together a multitude of artistic practitioners and theatre-makers . Through this placement, what initially appeared as separate practices, helped me hone in on my strengths and career pathway. My mentorship with Ben Power came at a pivotal moment in my development. Initially my interests were wide and not yet fully focused, but through many conversations, work and theatre models he helped me recognise where my instincts were already leading me. Dramaturgy, programming, producing, and mentorship for me, revealed themselves as interwoven strands shaping the wider ecology of theatre-making.

Reference List (Harvard)

Adams, T.E., Holman Jones, S. and Ellis, C. (2015) Autoethnography: Understanding Qualitative Research. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Frost, S. (2026) Interview with the author, February.

Ingold, T. (2011) Being Alive: Essays on Movement, Knowledge and Description. London: Routledge.

Jeronimo, T.  (2026) Audio composition for presentation. Unpublished.

Lawson, C. (2026) Interview with the author, January. 

Linton, L. (2023) Interview in The Stage.

Nelson, R. (2013) Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

November, H. (2026) Interview with the author.

Power, B. (2026) Untitled play manuscript. Unpublished script shared with the author.

Sumner Chan, N. (2025) Interview with the author, November.

Appendix A – Additional Images

Interview transcripts and notes from professional conversations are available from the author upon request.