The Man of La Mancha

For The Man of La Mancha at Lake Dillon Theatre Company, I didn’t want to build a picturesque Spain. The director and I talked early about the story living inside a warehouse, a space where actors could assemble the world in front of us. That idea shaped everything, making the environment feel raw, performative, and always on the edge of transformation.

The brick walls, exposed piping, and steel stair structure weren’t decorative. They grounded the room in something honest and industrial. At the center of the stage, a circular pattern scored into the floor created a playing arena that felt part ritual space and part proving ground. The musicians lived inside the environment rather than outside it, reinforcing the sense that this world was being made in real time.

Upstage, a windmill traced out of industrial pipe was never meant to feel literal. It worked more like an idea projected onto reality, the image of Quixote rather than an object itself. Distressed textures, modular crates, and repurposed materials let transformation come from performance and light rather than scene changes. The set didn’t illustrate fantasy; it asked the audience to create it with us.