Building something special
Twenty-one years on, the building still makes people stop and look twice. That reaction never gets old for the people who helped build it.
Last year as part of The Glasshouse’s 21st birthday, we sat down with two members of the Laing O’Rourke construction team (then John Laing Construction) who were there from the very beginning: Ken, who joined the project to oversee the roof, steel and glass structure, and Fred, a construction manager who started on site when it was little more than cleared ground on the banks of the Tyne. Between them, they spent more than three and a half years bringing the building to life.
From empty ground to a landmark
“When I started,” Fred remembers, “the site had just been cleared. All you could really see was the stone footprint of what was to come.”
From there, the building grew in phases: foundations and concrete rising from the ground, the outlines of Sage One, Sage Two and the rehearsal spaces taking shape, and finally the moment when the scaffolding came down and the sweeping roof structure was revealed.
“For me, seeing that roof exposed for the first time was something else,” he says. “You suddenly realised this wasn’t just another job. This was going to be special.”
Ken agrees. “You knew you were coming onto something special straight away. It wasn’t an ordinary building. The materials themselves were quite simple – concrete, steel, glass, timber – but the way they were pushed to their absolute limits was remarkable.”
Fred feels the same. “From the very start, while reviewing the architects’ drawings, you could tell this wasn’t an ordinary building. We were building a world class music venue in Gateshead. This would be special anywhere in the world, but to have it in Gateshead, my hometown, made it even more special.”
Designed by Foster + Partners and engineered by Buro Happold, the building relied on 3D modelling technology that had only just become possible at the time. The steel and glass structure was built by Waagner Biro, an Austrian company who specialised in complex structures like the Reichstag in Berlin. “Even they said that 10 years earlier,” Ken explains, “you simply couldn’t have built this. Every glass panel, every stainless steel panel on the roof is a different size and shape.”
Building a roof like no other
The roof is one of The Glasshouse’s most recognisable features and one of its trickiest technical achievements.
“It doesn’t sit on the buildings underneath in the way a normal roof would,” Ken says. “It’s more like a tent, supported by internal columns.” During construction, the team had to build the roof out of shape, propping it carefully as steel, glass and panels were added. Only once it reached a critical point could those supports be removed, allowing the structure to relax into its final form.
“That moment, when you start taking the props away and the roof settles exactly where the engineers said it would, that was something special.”
Health and safety presented another challenge. With so much work happening high above the ground, rope access became essential. Fred volunteered to train so he could inspect every single panel himself.
“I ended up hanging around for quite a while,” he laughs. “But it meant we could make sure everything was done properly.”
Even the finish of the roof panels was carefully considered. Rather than a polished surface, the stainless steel was given a subtle linen texture. “If it had been shiny,” Ken explains, “the sun would just bounce straight off it. Instead, it reflects the sky – that’s why the roof changes colour with the light and the clouds.”
The details people never see
Ask what they’re most proud of, and neither mentions the roof.
“There are so many details people walk past every day without realising,” Ken says. One of his favourites is the height of the bar that runs around the balconies. “We spent weeks and weeks designing the height so glasses wouldn’t get knocked off – but it couldn’t be too high, because Foster + Partners didn’t want it to feel heavy. People just lean on it now without thinking twice.”
Then there’s the glass balustrade itself, a work of art made by Peterlee Glass with coloured glass and costing close to £1 million. “People see green and blue glass but a huge amount of time and craft went into that.”
Fred points to Sage One. Beneath the seats, warm and cool air flows silently through thousands of tiny perforations. “The air can’t whistle or make noise,” he explains. “So the pressure, the flow – all of that had to be designed and tested.”
Even the seats are carefully engineered. When empty, they’re designed to mimic the acoustic properties of a human body. “So whether the hall is full or half empty,” Ken says, “it sounds the same.”
And then there’s the floor. Look closely at the dark resin finish and you’ll see something unexpected. “That’s mother of pearl,” Ken says. “Scattered through the resin and polished by hand by a Dutch company who came over to do it.”
Sound at the heart of everything
From the earliest stages, acoustics drove countless decisions. Walls had to be built perfectly, joints completely filled. “Bricklayers had to unlearn habits they’d had for years,” Fred explains. “Normally, they’d just mortar the front and back of a block, leaving the middle empty. That’s fine for houses. But here, if it wasn’t right, walls came down and were rebuilt. The sound mattered that much.”
As the building neared completion, Arup Acoustics carried out months of testing. Construction staff and their families were invited in after hours to sit in the audience while musicians played.
“You’d sit there listening,” Ken remembers, “thinking: this is amazing. And then you’d hear the difference as curtains moved, panels adjusted. It was something else.”
For Fred, those moments opened up a new world. “I’d never really listened to classical music before. Watching all those individual musicians come together was beautiful.”
Years later, a chance conversation with a professional musician highlighted what the team had achieved. “He told me there are only a few places in the world you really want to play and Gateshead was one of them.”
“You’d sit there listening, thinking: this is amazing. And then you’d hear the difference as curtains moved, panels adjusted. It was something else.”
A team effort and a sense of pride
They both talk warmly about the site atmosphere. “We had a great team,” Ken says. “People who knew each other, trusted each other and genuinely cared.”
“It wasn’t just about getting paid,” Fred says. “People realised they were building something special. That pride rubs off.”
That pride hasn’t faded. Fred and Ken still bring friends and family back whenever they can. “It’s part of people’s Christmas presents, tickets to The Glasshouse. I also never miss an opportunity to tell people I built The Glasshouse – with a bit of help from my friends. Still causes a bit of embarrassment to my kids if they happen to be there.” says Fred
In 2012, Fred carried the Olympic torch through Gateshead. “I couldn’t have organised it better if I had planned it,” he says. “My handover point was right outside The Glasshouse. I took my time running past, that was the moment for me.”
Ken remembers waving from the roof to his daughter on a school trip below. “All the kids waved back,” he smiles. “She was so proud.”
Twenty-one years on
The Glasshouse's concourse.
How does it feel now, walking through The Glasshouse 21 years on?
“As a builder, you always notice the little things,” Ken admits. “But honestly, it’s wearing well. It still looks fantastic.”
For Fred, it remains the highlight of his career. “I’ve worked on hospitals, courts, all sorts. I’m proud of them all. But this? This is the pinnacle.”
In one word?
Ken doesn’t hesitate. “Amazing. Iconic.”
Fred chooses something simpler. “A joy.”
And that’s why, 21 years on, The Glasshouse still feels alive – not just as a building, but as a place shaped by the care, skill and belief of the people who built it.
Construction image gallery
A selection of photographs from the building of The Glasshouse.
