Two systems, built in-house and never sold: an operations plane that watches every room, and a control engine that runs it. They are the reason a room still works, unchanged, years after handover.
The operations plane
One place that remembers everything. The drawings, the quote, the commissioning record, the health of the gear in the rack. Built so a room can flag that it is drifting before your team ever walks in.
A room is a long relationship, not a delivery. The plane keeps the whole of it in one place.
The drawings, the bill of materials, the quote, the commissioning record, and every service visit, on a single timeline. Nothing lives in someone's inbox.
Rack health, signal presence, and firmware state report in from every room, checked against the baseline the room was signed off at.
A failing amplifier or a stalled update is flagged before it reaches a meeting, and handled in a maintenance window, not in front of a room.
Every space ever signed off stays on file: what was measured, what it read, who signed. Year-five support starts from year-zero facts.
The control engine
Devices are data, not custom code. The same vendor-neutral core that drives a boardroom drives a broadcast studio. Configured for the space, never reprogrammed for it.
Most control code is written once, for one room, by whoever was available. This is the opposite of that.
A display, a camera, a DSP: each is a described device, not hand-written code. Adding one is configuration, not a programming project.
The same engine drives a boardroom and a broadcast studio. Every fix and every improvement lands in every room, not just the one that asked.
The control surface runs on the wall panel, a tablet, or a browser, and behaves the same on each. No proprietary touchscreen required.
Every room's logic is versioned: changes are diffed, bench-tested, and can be rolled back. What a room does is never a mystery.
When a room goes down at 7:55 for an 8am board meeting, the person debugging the software is the one who wrote it. A fix is a phone call, not a ticket in someone else’s queue.
And nothing about the room can quietly be taken away: no licence to lapse, no cloud to sunset, no manufacturer’s roadmap deciding what next year is allowed to do. The software answers to your rooms, not to a market.
Every capability earned its place in a real room. None of it is there to demo well.
Thirty minutes with the engineer who would design it, not a salesperson. You leave with the drawing-stage problems named, the ones that are cheap to fix on paper and expensive once the room is built, whether or not we end up working together.
A handful of rooms are in design at any one time, each owned by the person who drew it.
Mantis Audiovisual