Written by Josephine Walbank
In a sensational career that has seen Leslie adorn the world's stages, his unique eye for bold designs and innovative singular artistry has firmly established his reputation as one of opera's very finest stage designers.
In our recent Zoom chat, I was delighted to have the opportunity to speak to this vibrant and bubbly personality, who's entire being simply radiates passion for his craft. It was, truly, a very emotional conversation, during which we covered Leslie's creative process, what drives and excites him, and a particularly show-stopping moment gazing out over the stage of Milan's Teatro alla Scala.
That's so easy for me to answer, but it was actually not on a stage - it was a film of an opera. I'm from the North East of England, and the nearest theatre to me is probably the theatre in Newcastle. So when I was growing up, I didn't have a direct access to opera. But I was aware of it, because the library in West View (in Hartlepool, where I was growing up) gave me video access to operas. The Magic Flute was the very first opera that I saw.
The video cover had that very famous, captivating picture of the palace of the Queen of the Night. The Magic Flute is such an exciting way into opera, especially for someone who's very young - it's got a serpent, adventure, the Queen of the Night, it's cosmic, expansive and has a fairytale quality. I was hooked on that when I was a kid.
When I was young, I felt like this thing called opera was so exciting and intriguing, and it made me want to experience it more. I want to watch this video now and see if it's the same as I remember it.
I think it was in my early 30's that I started out on my own more.
In my 20's, I did lots of assisting to very established designers. I got to work with all of the designers (like Yolanda Sonnabend, Ian MacNeil and Richard Hudson) that I really admired. It was fantastic helping them with their vision and the beautiful work of these artists.
But, in my 30's, I reached a point where I thought, 'I really want to do my own work and to start designing on my own'. Interestingly, I got a job working with the director (and very famous dancer) Lindsay Kemp. We made several productions in Italy, then we did a show together in London. Lindsay was a very strong influence because he encouraged me to pursue my career - he gave me a leg up, really. He entrusted me with his vision, and that was the moment where I felt that I was starting to pursue my career as a designer.
I started doing theatre round the country, as well as a few jobs abroad. Then Christine Chibnall (the Head of Planning at OperaNorth) really liked my work. She not only encouraged me, but actively put me in rooms with directors so that they could meet me. From that, I got a load of jobs. My opera life really got going because of Christine and what she could do for me, and I'm really grateful for that.
I've never expected anything to be easy, because it has never been that way. But, I'm not afraid of working hard and trying. I'm not a naturally vivacious person - I'd probably describe myself as quite shy - but I love what I do, and when I am brave, it comes from a responsibility to back up my work, so the shyness thing drops away at that point.
The good thing is, I've always made sure that I go and meet people; I put myself in difficult situations where I have to talk about what I'm doing. It's absolutely nothing to do with luck. I feel like really, at the end of the day, it's all about tenacity and hard work.
One amazing thing about this career is its variety - each day is never the same. I produce the designs in my studio in London, and I love those first moments. They're quite playful; you're exploring the piece, and at these opening stages, you can imagine anything. You listen to a play, learn about it, and then by the end of the process, you form a very deep relationship with this piece of art. Working with a piece of music is the most rewarding feeling, because it always gives you something. It always makes my process vigorous and exciting.
Once you've designed your set, then it has to be built. During that part of the process - where it goes from small scale drawings and models to full scale, tangible staging and costumes on stage - suddenly, you're in an auditorium and the cast start to inhibit the world that you've created. The most magical part of the process is when the people see it. Those beginnings and initial ideas that you set in model form suddenly all come back, and you're back with them after all this time.
We engage with people and we're storytellers but there's a sadness in this, because something that's been so close to you in your life is not yours anymore; you have to hand it over and share it. That never gets any easier. My husband always knows that the day after opening is a bittersweet day for me. Then, you go on to the next thing and start it again. It's a very powerful process, emotionally, and I can't help but engage with that. That's why I do this job day in and day out - it's a gift and I love it, it's a privilege.
It's so hard to decide. I think that the first time I worked at OperaNorth and I did The Fortunes of King Croesus by Reinhard Keiser - that felt very significant, like the direction of my career would completely change from doing that show. It cemented my love for the art form so much, I just adore that company.
The other highlight would be the first time I worked at La Scala - if you asked me as a kid what I thought opera was, my head would be at that theatre. With its history and its gold and red curtains, it just felt so important, like the gateway to opera. When Sir David Pountney asked me to do an opera there, that was so thrilling - I never thought I'd get to be able to do that. And here I am now, having done my third opera there.
With these amazing moments in life, you just have to let yourself feel them. The first moments of performance on that stage were just incredible. In the morning, I came in early and I stood in that auditorium. The stage was empty and it was just me. I thought that, from humble beginnings, here I am. If I could've gone back and told that boy who bought The Magic Flute CD that I'd be here now, he would have been in raptures.
If I had to pick one person who has probably inspired me the most, and given me things that I couldn't have given myself, it is a designer who is sadly no longer with us. Her name was Yolanda Sonnabend, and she was an astonishing artist, completely unique in what she did and her approach to the world - there was no one else like her.
When I was studying, she was one of the top names of designers that me and my peer group would always reference as who we wanted to be like. When I graduated, I wrote to her (I wrote to a lot of people in the hope that they'd write back), and she actually rung me to invite me to her house. I was so nervous, because I put her on a pedestal and I knew that she wouldn't be an ordinary person. Indeed she was extraordinary, and I started working with her - that was the beginning of a collaboration and a friendship. In a way, I was very much her apprentice. In the old way, like you work with a master and you learn, then eventually you're allowed to create the work yourself. We collaborated on quite a number of pieces.
She taught me so much - she taught me how to listen to music, how to describe things and be analytical, how to be brave and free, and how not to be prejudiced, to listen to things as they are in themselves. She was an incredible influence, all my life of knowing her I craved her approval and wisdom. She was someone who always spoke to me in a very plain-speaking way. It wasn't always what I wanted to hear, but she was always truthful. I love her dearly for who she is and what she taught me, she's so very much a part of who I am now and what I do.
It's interesting, because I never feel like I plan out my career - I've sort of steered things, to try and facilitate things to happen, but paths change and they develop. There's a lot of places that I wanted to work at, and I've gotten to do so. But there's still a lot of places that hold a strong allure for me, like some of those big European opera houses.
Every piece that comes up is an adventure and so I wouldn't like to say too specifically what I'd want, because every time something new comes my way, I engage with it.
I've got a definite desire to do shows that aren't on stage and are outside in different surroundings. It's liberating and exciting to do work for non-theatrical spaces; it can be challenging but the rewards are great. For Grimes on the Beach (a show on Marlborough beach from 2013, that's currently on BBC iPlayer) we got this incredible seascape that added so much to the production. It gives me a drive when I go back into a theatre, to bring in some of these elements and re-imagine how the theatre space can function. I hope my future is filled with exciting things that I can try out so that I don't stay comfortable, and instead look at all of these challenges to re-imagine how we design the theatre.
I cannot wait for that moment when we can get back into theatres - we are going to have an explosion of creativity. It will be a very powerful moment, and I think there'll be a new kind of atmosphere. Theatre people are resilient, and very clever about dealing with difficulty. People will bring something to this moment.
I'd like to thank Leslie for interviewing with us, sharing his deep enthusiasm for his craft and providing such an inspiring, empassioned comment on the current situation which we are in.
In a sensational career that has seen Leslie adorn the world's stages, his unique eye for bold designs and innovative singular artistry has firmly established his reputation as one of opera's very finest stage designers.
In our recent Zoom chat, I was delighted to have the opportunity to speak to this vibrant and bubbly personality, who's entire being simply radiates passion for his craft. It was, truly, a very emotional conversation, during which we covered Leslie's creative process, what drives and excites him, and a particularly show-stopping moment gazing out over the stage of Milan's Teatro alla Scala.
1. What was the first opera that you ever saw?
That's so easy for me to answer, but it was actually not on a stage - it was a film of an opera. I'm from the North East of England, and the nearest theatre to me is probably the theatre in Newcastle. So when I was growing up, I didn't have a direct access to opera. But I was aware of it, because the library in West View (in Hartlepool, where I was growing up) gave me video access to operas. The Magic Flute was the very first opera that I saw.
The video cover had that very famous, captivating picture of the palace of the Queen of the Night. The Magic Flute is such an exciting way into opera, especially for someone who's very young - it's got a serpent, adventure, the Queen of the Night, it's cosmic, expansive and has a fairytale quality. I was hooked on that when I was a kid.
When I was young, I felt like this thing called opera was so exciting and intriguing, and it made me want to experience it more. I want to watch this video now and see if it's the same as I remember it.
2. What would you say was the first key turning point in your career?
I think it was in my early 30's that I started out on my own more.
In my 20's, I did lots of assisting to very established designers. I got to work with all of the designers (like Yolanda Sonnabend, Ian MacNeil and Richard Hudson) that I really admired. It was fantastic helping them with their vision and the beautiful work of these artists.
But, in my 30's, I reached a point where I thought, 'I really want to do my own work and to start designing on my own'. Interestingly, I got a job working with the director (and very famous dancer) Lindsay Kemp. We made several productions in Italy, then we did a show together in London. Lindsay was a very strong influence because he encouraged me to pursue my career - he gave me a leg up, really. He entrusted me with his vision, and that was the moment where I felt that I was starting to pursue my career as a designer.
I started doing theatre round the country, as well as a few jobs abroad. Then Christine Chibnall (the Head of Planning at OperaNorth) really liked my work. She not only encouraged me, but actively put me in rooms with directors so that they could meet me. From that, I got a load of jobs. My opera life really got going because of Christine and what she could do for me, and I'm really grateful for that.
I've never expected anything to be easy, because it has never been that way. But, I'm not afraid of working hard and trying. I'm not a naturally vivacious person - I'd probably describe myself as quite shy - but I love what I do, and when I am brave, it comes from a responsibility to back up my work, so the shyness thing drops away at that point.
The good thing is, I've always made sure that I go and meet people; I put myself in difficult situations where I have to talk about what I'm doing. It's absolutely nothing to do with luck. I feel like really, at the end of the day, it's all about tenacity and hard work.
3. What is your favourite thing about having a career that is centred around design?
One amazing thing about this career is its variety - each day is never the same. I produce the designs in my studio in London, and I love those first moments. They're quite playful; you're exploring the piece, and at these opening stages, you can imagine anything. You listen to a play, learn about it, and then by the end of the process, you form a very deep relationship with this piece of art. Working with a piece of music is the most rewarding feeling, because it always gives you something. It always makes my process vigorous and exciting.
Once you've designed your set, then it has to be built. During that part of the process - where it goes from small scale drawings and models to full scale, tangible staging and costumes on stage - suddenly, you're in an auditorium and the cast start to inhibit the world that you've created. The most magical part of the process is when the people see it. Those beginnings and initial ideas that you set in model form suddenly all come back, and you're back with them after all this time.
We engage with people and we're storytellers but there's a sadness in this, because something that's been so close to you in your life is not yours anymore; you have to hand it over and share it. That never gets any easier. My husband always knows that the day after opening is a bittersweet day for me. Then, you go on to the next thing and start it again. It's a very powerful process, emotionally, and I can't help but engage with that. That's why I do this job day in and day out - it's a gift and I love it, it's a privilege.
4. What, would you say, is your personal highlight of your career so far?
It's so hard to decide. I think that the first time I worked at OperaNorth and I did The Fortunes of King Croesus by Reinhard Keiser - that felt very significant, like the direction of my career would completely change from doing that show. It cemented my love for the art form so much, I just adore that company.
The other highlight would be the first time I worked at La Scala - if you asked me as a kid what I thought opera was, my head would be at that theatre. With its history and its gold and red curtains, it just felt so important, like the gateway to opera. When Sir David Pountney asked me to do an opera there, that was so thrilling - I never thought I'd get to be able to do that. And here I am now, having done my third opera there.
With these amazing moments in life, you just have to let yourself feel them. The first moments of performance on that stage were just incredible. In the morning, I came in early and I stood in that auditorium. The stage was empty and it was just me. I thought that, from humble beginnings, here I am. If I could've gone back and told that boy who bought The Magic Flute CD that I'd be here now, he would have been in raptures.
5. Is there anything or anyone in the industry who particularly inspires you?
If I had to pick one person who has probably inspired me the most, and given me things that I couldn't have given myself, it is a designer who is sadly no longer with us. Her name was Yolanda Sonnabend, and she was an astonishing artist, completely unique in what she did and her approach to the world - there was no one else like her.
When I was studying, she was one of the top names of designers that me and my peer group would always reference as who we wanted to be like. When I graduated, I wrote to her (I wrote to a lot of people in the hope that they'd write back), and she actually rung me to invite me to her house. I was so nervous, because I put her on a pedestal and I knew that she wouldn't be an ordinary person. Indeed she was extraordinary, and I started working with her - that was the beginning of a collaboration and a friendship. In a way, I was very much her apprentice. In the old way, like you work with a master and you learn, then eventually you're allowed to create the work yourself. We collaborated on quite a number of pieces.
She taught me so much - she taught me how to listen to music, how to describe things and be analytical, how to be brave and free, and how not to be prejudiced, to listen to things as they are in themselves. She was an incredible influence, all my life of knowing her I craved her approval and wisdom. She was someone who always spoke to me in a very plain-speaking way. It wasn't always what I wanted to hear, but she was always truthful. I love her dearly for who she is and what she taught me, she's so very much a part of who I am now and what I do.
6. What are you most looking forward to, in the future for your career?
It's interesting, because I never feel like I plan out my career - I've sort of steered things, to try and facilitate things to happen, but paths change and they develop. There's a lot of places that I wanted to work at, and I've gotten to do so. But there's still a lot of places that hold a strong allure for me, like some of those big European opera houses.
Every piece that comes up is an adventure and so I wouldn't like to say too specifically what I'd want, because every time something new comes my way, I engage with it.
I've got a definite desire to do shows that aren't on stage and are outside in different surroundings. It's liberating and exciting to do work for non-theatrical spaces; it can be challenging but the rewards are great. For Grimes on the Beach (a show on Marlborough beach from 2013, that's currently on BBC iPlayer) we got this incredible seascape that added so much to the production. It gives me a drive when I go back into a theatre, to bring in some of these elements and re-imagine how the theatre space can function. I hope my future is filled with exciting things that I can try out so that I don't stay comfortable, and instead look at all of these challenges to re-imagine how we design the theatre.
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| Jenufa - Malmo Opera |
I cannot wait for that moment when we can get back into theatres - we are going to have an explosion of creativity. It will be a very powerful moment, and I think there'll be a new kind of atmosphere. Theatre people are resilient, and very clever about dealing with difficulty. People will bring something to this moment.
I'd like to thank Leslie for interviewing with us, sharing his deep enthusiasm for his craft and providing such an inspiring, empassioned comment on the current situation which we are in.
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