The first table represents the theatre in its current design. One column lists the seating rows, from A to Z. Beside, in a column headed "uninterrupted view", there are Xs beside just four rows . . . that's just four of 26 rows where the audience has an uninterrupted view of the stage.

The next table represents the theatre as it will be after this 730,000 revamp. In this table, there are fewer rows of seats . . . just A to S. But in the uninterrupted view column all of them have Xs, bar the second and third.

Jean-Guy Lecat, a theatre designer with a massive international reputation, is responsible, along with Irish architect John Keogan. Lecat, a short barrel of a man with an impeccable 'Allo 'Allo accent and a beguiling way of talking in apparent aphorisms, describes the Abbey, fondly, as "a theatre with a strange atmosphere" and "a small theatre who looked big".

Lecat has worked on many "transformations" of theatres. "People say, 'Knock them down.' I say, 'First, we will play in it.' And then they always want to keep it."

The early modern theatres had "people everywhere", says Lecat: on balconies, in boxes, standing on the ground, surrounding the stage. But with the French revolution, democracy came to the theatre and the idea that everybody should sit on the same level, facing the stage. Suddenly, theatres had "empty walls".

The challenge, for Lecat, is to find a way of recapturing the life of the earlier, teaming theatres in more arid, modernist spaces like the Abbey. And so he has gutted the auditorium, knocked the balcony, and replaced all the seating with one steeper rake that stretches uninterrupted from the stage to the back wall.

The result, seen from the stage of the Abbey this week, is impressive. The theatre seems suddenly intimate and . . . as Lecat says . . . surprisingly small. The actors will no longer be speaking to a dead spot somewhere above the stalls and below the balcony, but to a sea of faces. The audience will have better sight lines and, also, "They will be together watching something, " says Lecat, with relish.

Sebastian Barry, who has been commissioned to write a play for the Abbey, said he was "absolutely delighted" with the redesign because he had "always feared" the old auditorium. "I always thought that it was a rare play that could overcome it." The new auditorium "looks ready to rock", he said, while the old one "looked like it was ready to receive dignitaries". The loss to the Abbey is some 130 seats, roughly 20% of its seating . . . though few shows in a year exceed 80% sales. And with word that the new Abbey Theatre, to be sited at George's Dock in the IFSC, will take years yet, the Abbey should get good use out of its new auditorium. Abbey director Fiach Mac Conghail has even suggested in a recent interview that the "old Abbey" could become "a downtown centre" for the new Abbey. "It's here to stay, " he said.

The wily old French designer summarised his years of experience converting theatres: "You do this theatre for a 'temporary' time, " he said. "But most of the time, this 'temporary' time is permanent because it's always better." We wait in hope.