Behind the Scenes at Downton Abbey (6 page)

The soundtrack remains far from complete, because everything from the house’s hum of activity to the slam of a door, from Branson’s footsteps to the rustle of Violet’s dress, must be added to produce a sound with more precision and depth than could be captured on set. Much of this takes place in London’s Marylebone at a ‘Foley stage’, in a studio designed to record footsteps, movements and noises created by props. Here, specialist Foley artists watch the programme on a screen and perform movements in sync with the characters. ‘It enables us to access clean recordings of footsteps and clothes that we can introduce into the final mix of the programme,’ Heath explains. ‘Then we can use those in the show to maybe reinforce a character’s mood. For example, if Mrs Hughes spins on her heels and storms off, we can literally make her turn on her heels with the sound; in doing so the keys she always wears at her waist can get agitated and we can stomp her off with a degree of attitude. You can build on what the actors are doing to create another level of character. It’s very subtle, but it all adds up.’

At other times, Heath will direct the audience’s attention – introducing footsteps into a scene so we are primed for the appearance of a character, or making one character’s footsteps louder than another’s so we focus on her. Silence can also speak volumes, Heath notes. ‘You can have someone arrive in a scene without any audible announcement, which means they make more of an impact when the camera comes to them.’

The audio post-production also creates a sense of the house as a character. Here, the team can draw on a bank of hundreds of thousands of pre-recorded noises (including a host that were recorded at Highclere itself) which capture every imaginable crash, bang or whisper that can be elicited from its surfaces.

‘Part of the original brief in series one was that the house should be a living and breathing entity,’ Heath says. ‘The soundtracks on
Downton
are surprisingly complex; there’s lots of multilayering going on to reinforce the fact that this is a busy, active house.’

The music track is the last element to be added. As it is a major part of the soundtrack, care is taken so that the sound effects do not intrude on the melody. ‘With a sound like Violet’s bell, we adjust the pitch of it slightly to make it work with the score,’ says Heath.

With all the elements in place, the process of bringing a script to life is complete – until the next episode.

For many fans of the show, Highclere Castle
is
Downton Abbey. When the title sequence begins and the huge doors open wide to reveal an English stately home in all its splendour, decorated in the riches of its aristocratic past, we are immediately immersed in the world of the Crawley family.

It may come as a surprise to know that a large proportion of the scenes set at the house are in fact filmed on carefully crafted sets housed in London, at the famous Ealing Studios. Even so, Highclere is an important building, providing a grand exterior and grounds, imposing saloon (the magnificent hall) and the impressive staircase, library, dining and drawing rooms.

Highclere has become a familiar and much-loved location, which has a special kind of magic for both cast and crew. Hugh Bonneville believes that filming at the house has helped him to create his character, Robert, by giving him an insight into the life of an English lord and his role. For him, the stately home offers a ‘sense of empire, and of certainty about its place in the countryside’.

Julian Fellowes already knew Highclere Castle and had long thought it had tremendous potential as a filming location. In fact, he had tried to use it in the early 1990s for a children’s drama he made at the BBC, and later as the setting for
Gosford Park
(although Robert Altman’s choice of Wrotham Park proved to be just right for that). Having persuaded the location team to view Highclere, he then had to wait while countless alternatives were visited and tested before the team came to the unanimous opinion that Highclere Castle would be perfect.

The current building has echoes of London’s Westminster, which is no coincidence as it is the work of architect Sir Charles Barry, who also designed the Houses of Parliament. In 1838, Henry Herbert, 3rd Earl of Carnarvon, brought in Barry to overhaul his classical Georgian mansion. However, it was not until four decades later that the work was finally complete.

For the show’s creators, Highclere was ideal in many ways. Lying on the Hampshire–Berkshire border, it was a practical choice in that it was close to London, but it also brimmed with the aristocratic confidence Downton Abbey needed to embody – even as that Victorian certainty was about to be challenged by the trials of the modern age. In fact, Fellowes calls Highclere an architectural ‘trumpet blast’.

Also key was the sense of Highclere being a real home. ‘We had to find a house that was still lived in by the family that built it, because we needed their artefacts to tell the story of the Crawleys,’ remembers Fellowes. ‘When we visited houses that had been bought by somebody else in 1973, the story wasn’t there on the walls, it wasn’t there in the furniture.’ As it is, the Herbert ancestors play the part of the Crawleys as they look down from the walls.

Over the last four years, filming has become woven into the fabric of life at Highclere. A typical filming day will see the rooms that are used for the show packed with cast and crew, TV monitors and folding chairs, all arranged over a rubber sheet that protects the ancient floors.

The art department make wide use of the house’s treasures, many of which would be impossible to hire. Meals taken in the dining room, for instance, are shot under a towering portrait of Charles I on horseback by Van Dyck. As well as paintings and wall hangings, much of the furniture seen on screen belongs to Highclere, including the dining room’s vast expanding table.

But although the house appears to be a ready-made set, some concessions must be made to safeguard its treasures. Although it would have been customary to have only tablemats, the antique dining table is protected by white tablecloths. If there are 18 diners to be seated, these tablecloths have to span the table at its longest – around 50 feet. The snowy covering also has the added advantage of bouncing light off the actors’ faces, which softens the look on screen.