How do you turn a frozen epic into a rodent-sized adventure? Designer Laura McEwen speaks to W.J. Quinn about shifting the scales for Icon Theatre’s new adaptation of The Snow Queen.
Come December, the theatrical landscape usually freezes over with a monotonous layer of slush. You can barely move for adaptations of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen, most of them chasing the coattails of a certain Disney franchise, all promising “magic” and “wonder” in press releases that read like they were generated by a marketing algorithm.
For set and costume designer Laura McEwen, however, the challenge this winter isn’t just about recreating a frozen wasteland; it is about completely reimagining the physics of it.
At The Albany in Deptford, Icon Theatre is staging a new adaptation of the classic tale. But in this version, written by Artistic Director Nancy Hirst, the fearless Gerda is not a peasant girl, but a mouse. Her nemesis, the titular Queen, is a snow leopard. It is a shift that turns a travelogue into a struggle of scale. For an audience of three-year-olds—themselves small creatures navigating a world of giants—the perspective shift is apt. But for McEwen, it presents a distinct headache: how do you render an environment that is simultaneously intimate enough for a mouse hole and vast enough for an ice palace?
McEwen notes that for this production, the solution began by returning to the page rather than the stage.
“I always really absorb myself in children’s picture books and artworks which connect with the imagery from the story,” McEwen explains regarding her initial process. “Endless hours image searching and getting inspired! Photography has been a great inspiration for this one too.”
For a designer, the task is not merely to decorate a space, but to establish a rigorous visual logic that can hold the attention of a demographic known for its brutal honesty and short attention spans.
“I always really absorb myself in children’s picture books and artworks which connect with the imagery from the story,” McEwen explains…
“I also have a basic principle which I work by which is—What is the shape, colour and texture of this world and how do I want to capture this?” she says. “This is always in the back of my mind whilst I immerse myself in everything else.”
The Architecture of Contrast
The brief from Hirst was clear: to create a protagonist who is “fearless, curious and determined,” ensuring young audiences see “strength and potential reflected on stage.” But reflecting that strength through scenery requires a careful manipulation of contrast. If the hero is tiny, the world must feel dangerously, magnificently large.
“I wanted the forest landscape to feel wide and epic and a real contrast to the mouse hole that Gerda lives in,” says McEwen. “Not only have I tried to do this in scale but also through the colour palette chosen, there is a big shift between the two worlds.”

That shift is primarily textural. Early Years theatre often relies heavily on the tactile; if the audience cannot touch the set, they must at least feel like they could. McEwen delineates the two zones of the play—the safety of home and the peril of the wild—through their material properties.
“The mouse hole is warm and cosy, somewhere you feel you want to snuggle up,” she notes. “There is fabric, soft edges, the warmth of their bed.”
This domestic safety serves as a foil for what lies outside. “I wanted this to contrast with the big wide world that Gerda explores so there is a real shift in materials and colour,” McEwen continues. “The world of the forest is icy, magical and cold, a frightening place with sharp edges but where magic can unfold.”
“I wanted the forest landscape to feel wide and epic and a real contrast to the mouse hole that Gerda lives in,” says McEwen. “Not only have I tried to do this in scale but also through the colour palette chosen, there is a big shift between the two worlds.”
Immersion and Illumination
The production is billed as an “interactive adventure,” a phrase that often signals chaos in children’s theatre. However, McEwen appears to be integrating the audience into the scenography rather than just relying on the cast to bridge the gap. The immersion, she argues, must begin before the house lights dim.
“I have thought about the child’s experience from the moment they enter the space, they will be making their own little magical journey before they meet Gerda and Kai,” says McEwen. “I have tried to design a set which feels epic and other worldly but also open and accessible.”
While there remains a “clear separation” between actor and audience, McEwen hints at breaking the fourth wall physically to accommodate the “lively audience interaction” promised by the production. “Some of the props and story telling will be making connections between the two,” she explains. “We are also hoping to bring some of the magic over the audience’s heads!”
The production also features original music by Eamonn O’Dwyer and puppetry, essential elements when your cast of characters includes squirrels, crows, and babbling brooks. But for the visual aesthetic, McEwen is banking on lighting to provide the final layer of atmosphere—using light itself as a structural element of the set.
“I’m really looking forward to the children experiencing the magical lighting we have inbuilt into some of our set pieces,” she says, though she refuses to be drawn on the specifics of the mechanics. “I’m not going to give away any of our ‘reveals’—you will have to come and watch!”
Featured Image: provided by Snow Queen PR
Details
Show: The Snow Queen – A Woodland Adventure
Venue: The Albany, Douglas Way, Deptford, London SE8 4AG
Dates: 6 – 24 December 2025
Running Time: 60 minutes (no interval)
Age Guidance: Ages 3–8
Admission: Tickets £14; family offer 4 tickets for £48
Time: Various performances at 11:00am, 2:00pm and 4:00pm on selected dates
Accessibility: Step-free access and accessible toilets; BSL-interpreted and relaxed performance on Saturday 13 December 2025 at 11:00am

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