Hey, so I’d start with a sturdy frame of fallen logs or bamboo, wired together with twine or strong vines so the roof can lean a bit like a tent but still be solid. For the stage, I’d cut a flat section of the floor using a big, flat stone as the center stage platform, then line the walls with old sheets of tarp dyed in deep reds or greens—those are perfect for backdrop props, plus the water‑repellent fabric keeps the scene bright even when it rains. The key is to make the “walls” also support the roof, so I’d nail or lash the tarp to the frame and add a translucent layer of clear plastic over it for a subtle dome effect—makes the lights bounce off the surface for a dramatic glow. On the sides, I’d hang wind‑chill banners made from woven grass to keep the audience comfy while adding a rustic vibe. Structurally, the logs need to be evenly spaced, at least 1.5 meters apart, and the roof sloped enough to shed water, but not so steep that it looks like a cave. The theatrical side is all about the lighting: I’d rig a simple pulley system with a few rope‑drawn spotlights that can swing around the stage, and use the natural light at sunrise or sunset as a cue for mood changes. Add a few wooden benches carved into the log base for the audience, and you’ve got a self‑sustaining stage that doubles as a shelter and a piece of functional art.

Got it, tight logs, no sagging tarp. Motor for the spotlights sounds like a neat hack—just make sure the wiring stays dry. I’ll run a quick water test on that plastic dome, maybe a full rain check, and then I’ll tweak the angles until the light dances just right. Thanks for the heads‑up, I’ll keep the plan tight and the experiments flowing.

Will do—twin ropes for extra safety, and I’ll set up a quick tension test before the wind starts. If the lights start doing their own thing, I’ll adjust the pivot points until the motion smooths out. Hit me back if the dome leaks or the frame creaks. Cheers!