Theatre of illusion

You can, at a glance, suss out a character by the cut of his jacket or speculate on how far a gal will go by the length of her slit skirt . . .

The wardrobe ladies - Caro, Morag, et al - dive enthusiastically into boxes of stockpiled trimmings, pull out bits of material, flick open reference books so as the team can browse over the illustrated underpinnings that instantly engineer that famous Lana Turner ''Girl In A Sweater'' profile.

Amid the banter - the calls for more strong coffee and the general lack of uppity temperament - you can see why Brotherstone is so sought after by dance companies, especially. For even as he's fixing on the really telling details of a costume - the right degree of plunge on a vampy little black number, say - he's also thinking about how the finished garment will feel, and function, when the dancer is actually performing.

Between fittings he talks with a rapid, open intensity, about design in general and some designs in particular - he has enjoyed a strong, collaborative role in several successful Northern Ballet Theatre productions and is equally acclaimed for his work with the award-winning Adventures In Motion Pictures. (Yes, his was the hand that feathered the chaps in that celebrated Swan Lake.)

He reflects cogently on dance trends and, pungently, on critics whom he refers to as ''covens''. And he talks of how - despite a lack of opportunity at school - he fixed his sights on a career in theatre design, and then tutored himself through the appropriate examinations.

''I suppose you could put it down to out-and-out obstinacy,'' he says, with a grim. ''I'd found out there was this O-grade in theatre design, but when I told my headmaster I wanted to do it, he said No - no teacher. In the end he agreed that, if I could find a teacher to take responsibility for me, they'd put me in for it. So I found an English teacher to do it - no lessons, though. I taught myself - I did the A-level by myself, too.''

Between those lines must surely lie two very crucial things: incredible, single-minded self-discipline and a very persuasive, wheedling charm.

He agrees that he can be very determined in his work. ''Of course you hold out for what you think is going to work, and look best. 'You will have a floor change for the Second Act', that sort of thing.'' He's laughing as he says this, then adds the charming twist. ''But you do have to be nice about it! Eighty per cent of it is making people do what you want them to do - and making it as nice an experience as you can for them.'' You could say that that approach spills over into the auditorium, too. Getting the audience to see what you want, in the way you want - and making it as nice an experience as you can for them.

You're there to interpret the opera, the ballet, the play, artistically, in a visual way. That means being aware of - being sensitive to - the needs of the piece. It's not about being technical, being able to build the flat or paint the cloth. Not really.

''It's about ideas - that's why the Central School in London was, at the time, the very best place to go. Because they taught stage design as an art subject more than a technical craft.''

It was at Central that he came across photos of Citizens' productions designed by Philip Prowse - and was well impressed! So much so that Prowse became something of a mentor. ''I had him on my final project, because I asked for him. I was doing Don Giovanni - he came in as director and I designed it. I was, am, a huge fan - he was a great pioneer in theatre design.''

One reason for the admiration - which also extends to Sue Blane and Maria Bjornson, both of whom were Prowse proteges, working briefly at the Citizens' - is, he says, their true theatricality.

''Whatever they do, it's basically theatre. Illusion. You look at it, and believe it's something else. Really it's painted canvas, or bits of wood, or whatever from a fabric shop - and you believe it's something else. That's the trick, that's the fun. Other designers, a lot of them recent ones, like to put the Vogue pattern on the stage. Buy it off the peg, 'real life'. Oh come on - we can all do that. The challenge is to do theatre.'' Perhaps it's the ''theatre'' in Northern Ballet Theatre which takes him back, again and again, to work on productions like Dracula and, more recently, The Hunchbank of Notre Dame.

BROTHERSTONE'S enthusiasm for NBT is obvious. ''It really is the best fun when you're given a project to do from scratch. When you can collaborate with other people right from the start, shape it so as the design becomes intrinsic, not an afterthought or an imposition on the piece. With this piece for Scottish Ballet, the music was already there - Adam had chosen classic jazz - but there was an opportunity for us to talk through everything else. He didn't want it to be anything like - what's it called? Elite syncopations - where they've got those jazzy unitards. So we've created a jazz bar, peopled by 10 characters, and it's kind of modern - though being a jazz bar there's a fifties feel to some of them, but I'd say the Drag Queen is more out of the Spice Girls!'' Which brings us back to fishnets and the fitting of costumes. I leave him joking - but earnest and concerned - about the brevity

of someone's knickers.'' Well they're going to be seen - she's upside down at one point, isn't she, skirt over her head . . . what is it we want the audience to see here!''

n See for yourself - Scottish Ballet's Cool Classics opens at the Citizens' in Glasgow tonight and runs until Saturday before transferring to Edinburgh's Lyceum Theatre from Monday, June 8, until Wednesday, June 10.

n Tart for art's sake: a detail from one of the Brotherstone sketches, The Tart, for Just Scratchin' The Surface.