‘Suspense!” “Romance!” “And a twist?” Sat cross-legged in the hall, Year 6 students at a Twickenham primary school are choosing the ingredients for a great story. Happily, the subject of this workshop is The Tempest, a play that ticks all the boxes and adds a shipwreck, lashings of magic and an all-you-can-eat banquet.

Lakesha Cammock, an actor who is running the two-hour session, asks the children to help her “build a story from the ground up”. First off, Shakespeare’s characters. Cammock outlines four: Prospero, his daughter Miranda, his brother Antonio and King Alonso. In small groups, the children take different roles and are asked to create poses that reflect the dynamics between the characters. One of them stands tall, fists on hips, exuding authority as the king.

The idea behind the Primary Shakespeare project, run for more than 25 years by the Orange Tree theatre in Richmond, south-west London, is to give local children a hands-on introduction. After taking part in the workshop at their school they go to the Orange Tree for an abridged, interactive version of the play in question, performed by the small cast of actors who also lead the workshops. Four thousand children take part in the project every year, many experiencing Shakespeare for the first time.

In the school hall, Cammock sketches out the plot and the children create sounds for Prospero’s island. The room fills with screeches, pitter-patters and watery swooshes. Next, they form pairs: one child plays Prospero and the other the servant Ariel. The Prosperos get bossy: “Roll around! Hop over there! Do press-ups!” The Ariels comply, some enthusiastically and others less so. After a few minutes, Cammock asks the Ariels how they feel. Annoyed, exhausted and embarrassed is the general consensus, though a couple seem happy enough. And the Prosperos? Important and powerful. “But also,” one admits, “a little … mean?”

Modern twist … Jessica Bailes, Sabi Perez and Lakesha Cammock in The Tempest. Photograph: Robert Day

Cammock calmly controls the room while enabling each child to contribute to the storm of ideas. Questions are continually raised. What might that sound like? How would that feel? What would you eat at Prospero’s magic banquet? (A chocolate fountain … and does the island do McDonald’s?) Can they think of a better title than The Tempest? “Tug of War” is one suggestion. “Darkness Island” is another. One boy shouts out: “Let’s Kill Prospero!”

It’s striking how physical many of the exercises are but Cammock encourages the children to relish the language too. Prospero’s speech in Act V, “I am struck to the quick”, is divided between the group, each speaking a few words. The session ends with a cliffhanger as she reveals they won’t find out the ending until they see the play a couple of weeks’ later.

When I arrive at the Orange Tree for that early-morning performance, the theatre is full of noise. There are four actors on stage with 150-odd students watching, slapping their thighs and stomping feet to create a storm. The adaptation is framed as a story created by friends at a sleepover. The actors start off in pyjamas and create worlds from a pile of pillows and mattresses. One becomes Prospero by adorning a starry rug, Caliban rocks a Ramones T-shirt and leather jacket. There are supporting roles for a dozen kids.

If you’re eight, you feel like the world happens to you. We wanted to let children decide what they want to be. Director Imogen Bond

Afterwards I talk to some of those involved. Phoebe enjoyed the way they introduced the story with a “modern bit”. Ralph explains that his class made fans to accompany the appearance of the harpy. He likes acting while Phoebe says she’d rather write. “There are a lot of lines in the play to learn,” observes Ralph. They’re both impressed by how the actors played several roles. “I didn’t find that confusing,” says Phoebe, “because of the different way they said their lines – and because of their costumes.” Shakespeare’s language was odd to start with but became more natural. They enjoyed trying out different roles in the workshop. “Even if we disagreed with what the character’s choices were, we still got to play them,” says Olivia. Phoebe thinks Shakespeare is different to a fairytale, “where the bad character will die and the good characters will live and be happy”. Jasper agrees: “It’s not always happy ever after in Shakespeare.” He adds: “There’s not just good and bad characters.”

They all wish they did more drama at school. Imogen Bond, who is directing The Tempest and runs the Primary Shakespeare project, says the workshops explore areas that can be overlooked by curriculums with an “intense focus on passing exams, and less focus on creative thinking”. She tells me about an exercise about grief, in which the children consider how Ferdinand feels when he thinks his father has died. Empathy can’t be tested in an exam. Last year’s project was based around The Merchant of Venice. “The aim was to get children thinking about how everyone has similarities and differences – and getting them to be respectful of each other.”

Sticking their beak in … children watch The Tempest. Photograph: Robert Day

The project uses actors who have either had direct experience of teaching or can create a rapport with children. Each actor is encouraged to lead the workshop in their own way rather than follow a template. The important thing is to ensure none of the children’s suggestions are dismissed. “All the ideas about how the characters feel are completely valid if you’re putting yourself into that situation.”

Bond’s own childhood sleepovers inspired the production’s framing: “I remembered feeling sort of at sea in someone else’s house. Maybe that’s the equivalent of being on a desert island, not comfortable in your surroundings.” She and the cast spend three weeks rehearsing the production, focusing in the last few days on devising a workshop. With The Tempest they concentrated on agency. “If you’re eight, you feel like the world happens to you. We wanted to give children the sense that they can decide what they want to be.” This approach extends to casting. “We’ve had generations of older male Prosperos,” says Bond. If you want to advance audiences’ attitudes to casting then start young. All four actors are female. Why shouldn’t a young woman play Prospero – “and not play it as a man?”

The Orange Tree, which is on the site of a former school, reaches Year 3-6 students in the boroughs of Hounslow, Ealing and Wandsworth through the project. It works with 50 institutions, predominantly state schools. “For some, this is the first time those children have come to the theatre. For the majority, it’s their first experience of Shakespeare, particularly in performance.” The theatre wants the children to feel at home and “to come back, do the project again the next year, be curious about theatre”. It clearly worked with Hanna Streeter, who took part as a child and is now the Orange Tree’s executive director.

The proof is on the children’s faces, so clearly visible in this in-the-round space. There is none of the strange drowsiness that, like Ariel’s enchanting spell, can possess children during stuffier theatre outings. Do it wrong and a play can put children off theatre for life. This one gets them dreaming in the best possible way.