01/10/2025
🏰GAME OF THRONES WORLD-BUILDING🐉
Tobias Mannewitz and Amy Galea discuss:
How does architecture within ‘The Game of Thrones’ act as a silent yet powerful protagonist, complementing and enriching the narrative of specific scenes? - by Amy Galea.
Section 1: Introduction
When you think of Game of Thrones, your mind likely leaps to dragons, betrayal, or the infamous Red Wedding. But what if one of the show's most powerful characters isn’t human at all—but the architecture that shapes its world?
In my article, The Architectural Protagonist of King’s Landing: A Dynamic Force in the Game of Thrones Narrative, I explore how the built environment—specifically the Red Keep and the Great Sept of Baelor—acts as a silent yet powerful protagonist in the series. The analysis is structured around four key scenes, each selected to showcase the architectural significance of these spaces. These scenes are examined through a combination of data collection, existing literature, designer-lens interpretation, and architectural graphic analysis, culminating in a critical discussion of how architecture actively contributes to the storytelling.
Section 2: Tobias Mannewitz Interview
Building on the themes explored in my article, I had the pleasure of interviewing Tobias Mannewitz, who shared valuable insights into the architectural storytelling of Game of Thrones. A central focus of Tobias’s work was creating buildings and environments with distinct visual identities—spaces that were not only believable but also memorable and iconic for the audience. As a key concept artist on the series, he played a pivotal role in shaping many of its most recognisable locations. His contributions include; the exterior of Dragonstone, the city layout of King’s Landing, both the exterior and upper interior of the Great Sept of Baelor, the cities of Essos (Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor), Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, the exterior of the Dreadfort, Moat Cailin, the exterior of Horn Hill, and the city layout of Braavos.
Section 3: The Great Sept of Baelor
My article focused specifically on two of King’s Landing’s most iconic structures: the Red Keep and the Great Sept of Baelor. During our conversation, Tobias Mannewitz offered a detailed look into the process behind designing the Great Sept. In the early stages of Season 1, there was no clear vision for its appearance—initial concepts leaned heavily toward a science-fiction aesthetic. By Season 2, however, the team began grounding their designs using physical references, including a set originally used for another production, which represented the entrance to the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. This set then shaped the doors for the Great Sept. “So suddenly we had something to hold on to for the exterior,” Tobias recalled.
The interior was further developed by the art department in Belfast, who constructed a physical set. With a background in video game concept art, Tobias specialised in virtual set extensions and was responsible for digitally completing both the interior and exterior of the Sept. Using a combination of the constructed sets, and source material from the books, he filled in the visual gaps—bringing the Sept fully to life on screen.
When I asked Tobias how much symbolism factored into his work—such as the seven-pointed star or the statues representing the Faith of the Seven—he explained that his approach prioritised functionality and realism first over symbolism. The producers, he noted, also preferred to avoid anything overly fantastical in the visual design. However, when possible, Tobias enjoyed embedding subtle ‘easter eggs’ into his work. One of his favourites was a lamp design in the Great Library of Oldtown, which was modelled after the rotating armillary sphere featured in the show's opening sequence.
Section 4: The Architectural Protagonist
To end the interview, I focused on the most important question my article focuses on; the terminology of the ‘architectural protagonist’.
Tobias Mannewitz makes a compelling argument:
“I go by the traditional screenwriter’s definition that a protagonist is someone who makes conscious decisions and thus drives the story forward—so only humans or other self-aware beings qualify.”
But what if we take that definition one step further?
Could it be that the true self-aware forces behind architectural storytelling are the concept artists, designers, and world-builders themselves? These creators intentionally shape the tone, mood, symbolism, and visual language of a world—embedding narrative cues at every scale. Through their choices, buildings and environments are infused with meaning, allowing them to function not as static backdrops but as active elements in the story. These spaces foreshadow events, reflect character psychology, heighten emotional tension, and even alter the course of action.
In this light, architecture becomes more than setting—it becomes a vessel of intent, a silent but articulate storyteller shaped by those who understand its narrative power.
Tobias acknowledges this perspective, adding nuance to his stance:
“I think there is some truth to it. So let me say this: Buildings reflect the personalities of their creators (à la Hundertwasser’s ‘Third Skin’), shape the emotional resonance of scenes, and even constrain or dictate a protagonist’s actions. So while I wouldn’t call a building a protagonist, it can be a dominant force—powerful enough to shape, direct, or even overwhelm the human story.”
And perhaps that’s the point. Maybe architecture doesn’t need to be a protagonist to act like one. Its presence, when thoughtfully designed, enriches and compliments the narrative —guiding and amplifying, the character driven narrative unfolding within it.
So, do we need to redefine what a protagonist is? Or is it enough to recognise that in the hands of storytellers, space itself can become a character—one that doesn’t speak, but is impossible to ignore?
📗Read Amy's research in full in our journal FIELDS: The Journal of University of Huddersfield Student Research (Volume 10, Issue 1) available now for free via our website!
Game of Thrones HBO
