Starting with a tape measure, not a catalogue
Every fit-out I do begins with a survey. Before anyone talks about monitors or routers, I walk the room with a tape measure, a torch and a notebook. I want to know where the doors open, where the power comes in, how high the ceiling is and what sits on the other side of each wall. A room that looks generous on a floor plan can feel cramped once three operators and their chairs are in it.
I also ask who will sit where. The technical director needs a clear view of the whole monitor wall, the graphics operator needs to hear the director without shouting, and someone has to be able to walk behind the desks without unplugging anything. These small human details decide the layout far more than the equipment list does, so I sketch seating positions first and fit the technology around them.
- Door widths and routes for carrying kit in
- Mains supply, spare circuits and earthing
- Ceiling height and any pipework overhead
- Noise from neighbouring rooms or corridors
Drawing the signal path before touching a cable
Once the room is measured, I draw the signal path on paper. It shows every camera input, where each feed is converted or distributed, which sources reach the vision mixer, what goes to the monitor wall and where the programme output leaves the building. It is a plain diagram, but it answers most of the questions that would otherwise appear halfway through an install.
I label each connection with the name the crew will use on the day, not the name printed on the equipment. If the director calls for camera three, the panel, the monitor and the cable tag all say camera three. That sounds minor, yet it removes a whole category of confusion when a show is live and nobody has time to hunt for a socket. The drawing is shared with the client before any ordering begins.
- Camera, replay and graphics sources named consistently
- Spare inputs left free for later additions
- Clear break points so faults can be isolated quickly
Monitor walls: size, height and honest viewing distance
A monitor wall is judged by how easily the team can read it, not by how many screens it has. I work out the viewing distance from the technical director's seat and choose screen sizes that stay legible from there. Programme and preview sit at the centre and slightly above eye line, with camera sources arranged in a logical order either side, so the eye learns the pattern quickly.
In a compact room, restraint helps. Too many small pictures become a patchwork that tires people over a long show. Where space is tight I use multiviewers to place several sources on one display, and keep the most important pictures large. I also check glare from lighting and windows, because a screen that looks fine at the supplier can wash out under the room's own ceiling lights.
- Programme and preview given the largest, central positions
- Source labels readable from the furthest seat
- Brightness set so screens do not dazzle in a dim room
Intercom and audio: the part nobody notices until it fails
The intercom is the nervous system of a gallery. The director talks to camera operators, the technical director to the replay desk, and everyone listens for their cue. I plan it as carefully as the video, deciding which channels exist, who can speak on each and who only listens. Clear, separate channels mean the calm voice calling the shots is never buried under chatter.
Audio monitoring gets the same attention. Speakers or headphones need to be positioned so the team can hear the programme sound without it bleeding into the intercom. In small rooms I often favour headsets for most seats and a single speaker for the room. Before handover I test every belt pack and panel with someone at the far end, because a silent channel found during rehearsal is an inconvenience and one found on air is not.
- Separate production and technical channels
- Headset spares kept in the room
- Programme audio level agreed with the director
Cabling, labelling and keeping the room tidy
Neat cabling is not vanity. When a connector fails during a show, the person fixing it needs to trace the run in seconds. I route video, audio, data and power in separate bundles, leave a little slack at each end, and fix everything so nothing is strained when a chair rolls past. Cables are cut to sensible lengths rather than coiled behind the desks, which keeps the space cooler and easier to clean.
Every cable carries a label at both ends, matching the signal drawing. I also keep a short list of tested spares in the room. A tidy rack tells the next engineer exactly what was done and why, and that matters because the people running the room in two years may not be the people who built it. I would rather spend an extra afternoon on labels than an hour of someone's show tracing an unmarked lead.
- Power and signal cables kept apart
- Labels at both ends, matching the drawing
- Spare leads tested and stored on site
Testing, rehearsal and handover
Installation is only finished when the room has run something real. I power everything up, check each source reaches each screen, test the vision mixer through every input and run the intercom across all positions. Then I ask the crew to run a short mock show with real cameras, graphics and a rundown, because that is when awkward reach, glare and hard-to-hear channels show themselves.
At handover I give the client the signal drawing, the labelling key, a list of settings and a short note on what to check before each show. I also walk through basic fault finding with whoever will use the room. The aim is that a competent operator can recover from a loose connector or a dead input without ringing me, although I am always happy to hear how the room is being used.
A good gallery room is mostly decisions made early and written down: where people sit, what each cable is called and how a fault is traced. The kit matters, but the survey, the drawing and the handover matter more. If you are thinking about a room of your own, tell us the space you have and the shows you expect to run, and we can talk through what would realistically fit.