Archive for April, 2010

Open Source Values

Friday, April 30th, 2010

I am a firm believer in the open source movement and specifically Creative Commons licensing for creative works. I have been publishing this blog under a creative commons license for years giving away content, as most blogs do, without concern for making money. Credit yes. Money, no. The benefits I have received far outweigh what money could have been made had I tried to monetize this. The purpose for me writing this blog is fun and enjoyment.

Because I work as a professional artist I have found it important to have a creative outlet that is not tied to income. While I would certainly welcome a book deal, I am not about to go seek one out. I enjoy having a space wherein I can create without the pressure that money brings to a situation.

In my theater work I have provisions in my contracts to protect my work on a show. They state that if the show gets picked up by a larger producing organization I get the first right of refusal to be hired as the lighting designer for the next incarnation of the show. They also state that the lighting design, drawings, etc belong solely to me.

From an ethical standpoint I find myself posed with a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand I need to eat and ensure that I can continue to do so. On the other hand I want to remain true to the values of open source thinking. Because my theatre work is contract work for hire, rather than solely generative art, I am able to make a mental distinction that allows me to go on with my life in a state of ease. But it makes me wonder, what would open source performance look like? Is it possible in a collaborative art form or is the collaborative nature of theatre and opera inherently open source?

At a certain level theater does have an inherent open source component to it. Plays, opera scores, and ballets whose copyright has expired are ripe for remixing and reconceiving by contemporary artists. This happens all the time. While one could point to an obvious example like the Wooster Group’s Hamlet, every remount of a play or opera is a remix of the original.

Works in repertory, like opera or ballet, have an element of the open source ethos in them every time they are remounted. The lighting supervisor, who may well have not been born when the original lighting designer created the work, must reconstruct the thing using new lighting instruments colored with gels by companies which were not around at the time of creation. There is always a degree of interpretation in these moments, sometimes quite severe transformation, yet the by line will always read “Lighting by Original Designer” no matter how much the work has changed over the 10, 20, 80 year lifespan of the piece.

Repertory lightplots carry this same quality of a remixed open source code. Jean Rosenthal’s plot for New York City Ballet was updated by Tom Skelton and has been updated since. Many of the same ideas and structures are still in place now as were then. While the plot may not be attributed to anyone but the current lighting supervisor, the source code, as it were, could be traced back to the work of Jean Rosenthal.

While these are all elements of performance which have an open component to the code or structure, it does not get to the idea of the whole process as open source. The financial aspect of making work complicates a truly open source approach. It would be hard to relinquish one’s rights to a design for a show and then be the only one not to travel with the new production uptown. Or if the drawings and documentation were released with a production it could be difficult to see your work applied poorly and then be given credit for it.

But these concerns are egoic and have nothing to do with the efficacy of the potential project or the artistic validity of such an endeavor. For something like this to work it would require the full compliance, if not enthusiastic support, of a rather large number of individuals. Merely gathering such a group together would pose quite a challenge. But the novelty of the exercise could well be worth it.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Wednesday, April 28th, 2010

Thomas Wilfred was a musician and light artist working in the early 20th century. He created his Lumia Devices by hand and while not an engineer by training the few extant creations of his still function lagely with their original parts. While this digital reconstruction is nothing like watching one of the analogue originals, the movement, colors, and patterns are still quite striking and engaging.

For more information on Thomas Wilfred and his Lumia devices check out this site. To see a slideshow of stills from one of his works click here.

Enjoy!

Product Review – Vectorworks 2010 Part 2: 3D Drafting and Basic Rendering

Monday, April 26th, 2010

As I said in Part 1 of my review, Vectorworks 2010 is a fantastic program for drafting lightplots. But there is much more to the program’s functionality than 2D lightplots. I finally had some downtime this past week to sit with Vectorworks 2010 and get to know it a little better. Up to now I had not gone very far into the functionality of the program and was using it as little more than the rather old version (V10.5) I had been working with prior.

I began working my way through the training manual that came with the program and was given a lot of basic exercises to learn different tools. Basic 3D extrudes, 3D reshaping, curves, and so forth. I was blithely working with these simple shapes when I came to the first big project in the training manual.

Draw a lighthouse.

Presented with an architectural drawing you are tasked with drafting and then rendering the object in 3D.

My first reaction was “there is no way in hell I can do that.” But after taking a second look at the drawing I realized it can be broken down into more or less basic shapes which can be dealt with on an individual level rather easily. Just as I break down the drafting of a lightplot into smaller manageable chunks, so too did this appear much easier once I took that route with the Lighthouse.

I have worked with Vectorworks for over a decade. In that time I have done very little architectural style drafting. From my background of drafting lightplots, the use of symbols became readily apparent as the way to make this project work. Much of the drawing would be composed of a few symbols that repeat and then a handful of sweeps and extrudes.

The most complex shape to deal with, far and away, was going to be the iron supports underneath the first landing. Not only is the basic outline a complex shape with various curves and corners, but it is cut out and recessed in multiple places at varying depths. This is also what makes for a very good learning project. There is a single, very difficult, challenge and then the rest of the project is working with rather basic skills in a more complex way than the previous simple shapes exercises.

My mindset going in to this work was that I was learning a whole new computer program. The upgrade from V10.5 to 2010 is huge and it was far better to treat my knowledge base as coming from a different program. That mindset served me well.

The Spotlight manual is written in a very clear and easy to read manner. I had done the short version of the manual when I first got the program and drafted a simple 3D theater with lighting positions. But that hardly gets at much of what is good with this program.

Wrapping my brain around 3D space took some effort, as did parsing what would be the best way to achieve a particular goal. Some shapes made more sense to create as sweeps while others were better suited to be extrudes along a path. While the manual does not tell you what is best, after some trial and error I began to get a sense of the, sometimes subtle, differences between the two modes of working. The roof and spire were clearly better suited to sweeps, while the floors for the various levels had a bit of a question to them. Should I continue the floor all the way to the center point, or create a circle and extrude along that path? Because this project had a lot of those situations and many circular shapes to work with, I got a lot of experience in determining when one would use one tool or another.

The manual is written clearly. Thus it should be no problem for a novice, or someone upgrading from a much older version like I was, to dive right into the program and begin to do some fun and interesting work.

A tool that was new to me, which I found radically useful on this project, was the snap lupe [Z]. It is not a tool that is very necessary for the drafting of lightplots, but for these more complex and detailed drawings it is an invaluable addition to the Vectorworks tool set.

The exercise itself did not cover renderworks textures or lighting renderings (topics that are covered later in the tutorial) but I was able to stumble my way through some elementary uses of these tools thanks, in no small part, to the clear and well designed user interface of the program.

After working through this next level of exercises I have to say that I would strongly encourage anyone with the means to do so (and I understand that the program is very pricey for many) to consider the upgrade to 2010. The functionality has vastly improved as has the UI.

Along with my Vectorworks upgrade in February, I had upgraded my laptop in January. Before the new laptop, doing any sort of 3D modeling was a bit of a hassle as the rendering time was tedious. While the file I worked with for this review was in no way huge, the faster processor certainly helped make the 3D work a pleasure. If you are planning on an upgrade and getting into the 3D modeling I would strongly encourage you to make sure your computer’s processor is up to speed, and upgrade as necessary. VW2010 is a powerful program, but it needs a strong computer to do that work.

Did you find this review useful? Would you like to see more reviews like this here?

Honesty, Trust, and Art

Friday, April 23rd, 2010

There is a lot of confusion over the difference between a healthy ego and a big ego. A healthy ego is one that is sure and confident of its ability and efficacy. It knows itself and its limitations. It is based in and on reality and facts. It knows its worth implicitly. A large ego is often very boisterous. It needs to be heard and to be seen. It must prove its worth to the outside world because it does not have its own sense of worth internally and must be constantly validated by the external world either through actions or through outright demands for visible signs of validation, “love”, and support.

The arts are filled with big egos. We find countless examples of people whose self worth is based wholly on their ability to create works and receive credit for it. When praise and attention is lavished upon them they are filled with smiles, appear gracious, and look confident. When praise and adoration is not forthcoming they wilt, or lash out in anger, or throw tantrums. Sadly, we have all seen this.

While it is unfortunate, it is a regular part of the artistic landscape. There are large egos that are merely big inflated things and there are large egos that are robust and healthy. Too often, because of the former, it can be quite difficult to get honest feedback from friends and collaborators. Too often we have seen a friend or collaborator visibly wilt at the slightest hint of negative criticism. Certainly there is a time and a place for decorum. You don’t mention the late entrance at the opening night reception. But there must be room for honest critique or we fail to grow as artists. If we don’t grow the work suffers.

Different artistic communities treat critique in different ways. I have been involved in collaborations where we would call one another out as soon as something felt false. These were very honest and direct collaborations. Sometimes we would get into serious arguments. Rather then being an inflated unhealthy ego lashing out, this was the impassioned discourse of artists striving for the best work we could make. In the end, the work was vibrant and strong.

I have also worked in situations, quite a few recently, where the criticism and concern was so timid and understated that I did not often recognize it as such. It would be as if my collaborators were so scared of puncturing that inflated ego they would dance around a concern or just let it slide entirely. This baffles me, “Well if you didn’t like the light cue, why didn’t you say something?”

If a director or fellow designer has a concern about the viability of the work it is deeply important to raise that concern as early as it arrives and in as direct a manner as possible. One member of the collaboration holding back their critique weakens the collaborative bond between the artists.

Collaborative art requires trust. We must trust that every one of our collaborators has, as their intent and focus, the best interest of the piece at heart. If we lose that trust we can never make a work of true and lasting beauty. As Picasso said, “Art is not truth.  Art is a lie that makes us realize truth.” But to construct that lie so that it may point us to the truth, to make art, we must be honest. We must be honest with one another. Honesty, after all, is the foundation of trust.

When one of our collaborators is not forthright in their concerns, reservations, or praise, our trust lessens. If we do something that we know does not look good and hear from them “that’s great” then our trust in their taste is diminished. We know it did not look good. We can only assume that any praise they might have is qualified by a desire to not ruffle any feathers or threaten any inflated egos.

Unjustified praise can be more damaging than unjustified criticism. Praise without justification can stunt growth or push it in less than useful directions. We are always limited by time and must fix all the broken parts before time runs out. If we are told something is fixed when it is not then we stop looking at it in order to focus on the many other pressing concerns. We work to fix the other parts. Those parts then do not truly come together because of the loose end we left with the first unfinished part.

To create truly powerful work we must be unflinching in our honesty. We must give, and be able to receive, honest feedback about the work. To do this our egos may or may not be large, but they must be healthy. When we can honestly accept and receive feedback we can truly trust one another as collaborative artists. When we trust each other, then art can begin.

Towards an Understanding of Visual Dramaturgy

Monday, April 19th, 2010

The first step to becoming a visual artist is to develop one’s visual thinking. Once you can think visually you can begin to devise an approach to a particular creation. If you are a designer, there is a bit more than just visual thinking that must go on. You must approach the text (be it the words of a play, the movement of a dance, or the music of an opera) as a kind of translator. A translator from the verbal, kinesthetic, or musical into the visual.

Visual translations, like linguistic translations, can occur on several levels either discretely or simultaneously. One of the biggest issues in verbal translation is with poetry in verse. The translator finds themselves with the conundrum of staying true to the literal translation or to the verse or to the “poetic intent.” Any combination of these may be used and each will result in a different translation.

Chinese Tong poetry for instance works with its particular meter because the language it was developed in is tonal with few to no polysyllabic words. Thus translating a Tong poem will, almost by necessity, compromise either the meter or the meaning. And meaning is tricky on its own. The word “Love” in English is a large word that encompasses many meanings. In Greek they have many smaller words each with their own unique nuance. Agape and Eros mean very different things, yet would both be translated as Love, in English.

These problems arise for the designer just as, if not more, strongly than for the verbal translator. Is it more important to literally set the play in a drawing room or should the emotional tenor of the piece be of primary importance? Do we concern ourselves with an exact replica of 4:30 in the afternoon or was the writer’s intent to have a softening of the light? Are the corsets from the period appropriate or is the idea of a woman constricted by social norms of primary importance and thus the corsets should be exaggerated and extreme?

Any number of questions may arise in the pre-production phase wherein these questions can, should, and I would argue, must be asked. We are asking our audiences to spend a not insignificant amount of money and a good chunk of time. Thus it is incumbent upon us to go as deep with the work as we can go. To ask all the questions necessary of good translators such that we may give our audience the truest, to us, interpretation of the text.

Anyone can memorize lines, but it takes a depth of analysis and rigor to be a Marlon Brando. So too can anyone design scenery, but only a mind wholly committed to the dramaturgical rigors of visual translation can be a John Conklin. As lighting designer Jennifer Tipton once said, “only 10 percent of an audience notices the lighting, but 99 percent are affected by it.”

The issues that designers face are not just “details that only they would notice” but the very foundation of the subconscious experience of the audience. There may only be one guy during an entire run who notices that the uniform is two years out of date, but it will color his experience of the piece. And, as live entertainment is a collective and communal experience, it will affect the experience of those near him and ripple out and through the audience. God, as they say, is in the details.

As lighting designers our job is doubly difficult. Not only do we have to reconcile our visual language with that of the text, but we must also integrate it with the vocabulary of the scenery and the costumes. Since our work in many ways comes last, the set is on stage and the performers are in costume when we begin lighting, it is even more critical that we look deeply into the needs of the text and understand the visual language at play before us. Our visual reading of the production design will give us a direction to approach the larger question of translation.

Of course we would have been involved in the design discussions from an early stage in the process, but it becomes critical that we read the work before us anew and note any shifts and changes our translation will require with the addition of the other visual elements. We must stay fresh and in the present. Then we can alter our translation in response to the shifting performance as we move through the text in rehearsals.

It is a balancing act. A four dimensional puzzle that will be completed, one way or another, when the curtain rises on opening night. The audience wants to be transported. For them to be transported we must become translated.

Enjoy the Sunlight

Friday, April 16th, 2010

I often joke about how as a lighting designer I never actually get to see the sun because I am stuck inside theaters all day long. While this is not wholly accurate there is a degree of truth to it that is in many ways less than ideal. While many to most of my designs are not attempts at naturalistic recreations of daylight, even the abstract work is grounded in an understanding of natural light.

Before I got into lighting design I was an avid photographer. This was back in the ancient days of film photography where, rather than sitting in front of a computer screen, the photographer would spend hours in a darkroom manipulating the light that passed through a negative to create an image on paper. I remember spending an entire weekend teaching myself split filter processing in order to make a not so good negative into a rather stellar print, because I loved the composition so much.

My point in mentioning this is that I spent a lot of time, energy, and attention studying light before I ever started manipulating it directly on stage. This ties in to the idea I discussed Monday in my post On Visual Thinking. To be a visual artist one must first learn to see. We must train our mind to think with our eyes and not just with words. We must be able to take in the visual world and analyze it for form, shadow, contrast, composition and the like. Once we have the ability to directly analyze the visual world, then we can begin to make art.

I see a lot of designers get caught up in the technology of lighting, because it is really cool stuff, to the detriment of the art of lighting. Certainly there is a time and place for high tech, but if one does not understand the medium itself, light, then all the technology in the world will not create a work of beauty. Neither a fancy drafting program nor a fancy lighting console will make you a better designer.

I see a similar problem with photographers. I brought a friend in to shoot a recent show of mine because I was less than thrilled with the company’s house photographer. I overheard the company photographer say something like “those will be good photographs, he has a really nice camera.” And right there I knew why the house photographer was not very good. He mistook the technology for the art. A good photographer can make beautiful work from a polaroid if need be. The art does not come from the machine.

In lighting we can get so caught up with Eos and Source-4 and Vectorworks and Lightwright that we forget what we are doing is manipulating light. Some of the most interesting work I have done came from limitations like a dozen dimmers and a small hand full of plugstrips to control fluorescents and A-lamps.

Even color, a subject I love, is secondary to effective lighting. When, as a designer, you have a clear understanding of how light moves and how light is perceived, you can do amazing things with very little. It also means that when you have a quarter million dollar lighting package you can really push it to make some truly amazing and spectacular creations.

But before learning about how to program a lighting console, before memorizing gel books and gobo catalogues, before reading every lighting textbook theory, before knowing the intricate details of every new automated lighting fixture on the market, you need to step outside and enjoy the sunlight. Get your eyes off the stage and onto the work of the most amazing lighting designer you will ever encounter. Nature. Observe the difference between 4:30 in the afternoon during the summer and during the winter. What are the colors of a sunrise in the plains vs. on the coast? How do sunsets differ in New York and Los Angeles? Does the shade of a forest differ from the shade on a porch?

Just as painters use real models to create portraits, so too must lighting designers have a real understanding of light in order to make truly powerful creations. If your options are limited, perhaps you can’t travel, or work or school take up too much of your daytime, then explore light in books. Discover the world of black and white photography or classical European painting. You can learn almost as much about light and shadow from Paul Strand or Caravaggio as you can by stepping outside for a few hours. But you will need to step outside and see for yourself to truly develop your own voice.

Seeing for yourself will lead you to create your own visual language. You will start learning words and phrases. You will decipher your own grammar and syntax. As you begin to look with your own eyes and analyze the light in the world around you, your eye will develop and become increasingly subtle in its distinctions and degrees of understanding. You will see more detail. And every day you will enjoy the sunlight more.

I’ve been translated

Wednesday, April 14th, 2010

My post On Visual Thinking has been translated into Spanish by a lighting design teacher in Madrid. Check out the translation here.

On Visual Thinking

Monday, April 12th, 2010

Most thought, at least in my experience, happens through the medium of language. We use language as a primary means of communicating thoughts, ideas, and emotions with one another. We are taught early on to read and write. With the rise of email, IM, and the like, we have become a culture strongly oriented to the word.

Through all of this verbal bombardment it is important to remember that linguistic thinking is merely one modality of thought. As philosopher Martin Heidegger says, “What is spoken is never, and in no language, what is said.” What is spoken leaves out what is seen. And that which is seen, speaks.

Visual language is an amazingly powerful means of communication. Certainly advertising agencies have realized this. They utilize this knowledge to a great degree. Visual language suffers the same limitations as spoken language. Context is important. And with context comes the ability to read between the lines. One of my favorite visual context issues has to do with how children are dressed. In European, and European derived cultures like the United States, little boys are associated with the color blue while girls are associated with pink. In parts of India (and I can only imagine other parts of the world as well) the reverse is true. Rather than seeing pink as feminine, it is seen as the diminutive of red (a very masculine color) and as such a totally proper color for little boys.

Visual thinking, just like verbal thinking, necessitates an understanding of the cultural context and the larger visual vocabulary of that contextual visual language. The color example above is but one instance of visual language differing culturally. The meaning of shadow is culturally determined as well. In fact, I would argue that visual languages are as unique and distinct as verbal languages. Just as the collection of phonemes that make the word pronounced [fuhk] have a different meaning whether you speak English or Vietnamese natively, so too does red or shadow have different meaning depending on the visual language you speak.

Just as there are similarities between the verbal and the visual with regards to vocabulary, there are similarities in terms of grammar and syntax. Rather than issues like subject/object or verb/noun (although those concerns can arise) we have foreground/background or shadow/highlight.

While we can map similarities between the visual and verbal realms all day long, we must be clear that the two are distinct. Talking about visual ideas can be a nice way to begin a project. It can serve to frame a show before heading in to tech. It can be useful in terms of devising the palette of lights used by a designer. But once the lights are being turned on and off, and cues recorded, the thinking must be wholly visual. It does not help to sit there going “I wonder if turning on the head-hi will deconstruct the notion of theatricality better than the shins.” Or “rather than looking at the stage picture I’m going to take a moment to think if frame 6 blue or frame 7 blue in the scrollers is more romantic.” Or whatever. You turn a light on, see if it looks right, and adjust as needed. The thinking must be at the visual/emotional level rather than the verbal/rational level or the effort will fail.

I recently had a board-op say to me they wished I would not turn my mic off when speaking to my assistant because they wanted to know my thought process. I was honestly baffled by that response because the thought process is not talking, it is looking and then turning lights on, off, up, or down. “Channel 35 to 20 percent” is a thought. It is an idea. A hypothesis.

I write this blog because I find writing to be an enjoyable activity. I do not write this blog because writing about light and moving light through space/time are the same thing. They are not.

Back when I would work as a board-op, even if I did not like the work of the designer, I would watch every level change with rapt attention trying to decipher why they made that change and not another one. I would play games trying to see with their eyes and guess ahead of them what they would do next. When I was really paying attention I would be right in the zone with the designer almost like I was lighting the show myself. That is visual thinking.

Without visual thinking, without putting words aside and allowing the mind to focus wholly on what it sees before it, the creation of visual art is impossible. To improve my visual thinking I have recently taken up drawing again. When drawing, words not only don’t help, they hurt. One must turn off the verbal part of the brain and just look and see. If the line is correct move on to the next one. If it is wrong correct it. The right answer is in your mind’s eye.

It can be a lot of work to free a mind oriented to verbal language and allow it to think visually. It was not easy for me. In fact it was a lot of work. Words are seductive. It can be easy to get trapped inside a beautiful rhetorical flourish and not notice that it is masking a lie. Visual language can lie too. But one thing it can’t lie about is whether or not it looks good.

Close this browser window, pick up a pencil, and start looking. You’ll expand your vocabulary and improve your grammar at the same same time. And don’t forget to enjoy yourself.

Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly – Review

Friday, April 9th, 2010

There is a very nice mention of my work in this review of Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly:

Lucas Krech’s impressive lighting design, and Jeremy Zuckerman’s terrific sound-score are perfectly realized creations that are as much a part of the dance as the exchanges between Levy and Aline. Both lighting and score provide both staging and directional movement. At one point, Levy actually solos and impressive interaction with a segment of Zuckerman’s swooshing sound-piece, that is redolent of the intensely deafening and demonic sound effects in the movie the Exorcist.

Inside the Design Idea – The Tender Land

Monday, April 5th, 2010

The Tender Land marks the second show I will be lighting for Berkeley Opera during their 2010 season. It is directed by Elkhanah Pulitzer with scenery by Chad Owens and costumes by Romy Douglass.

The Tender Land is set in the Depression-era American heartland. With this piece Aaron Copland has crafted a gentle look at life in rural America through one day in the life of our protagonist, Laurie Moss, a young girl on the cusp of being the first in her family to graduate High School whose dreams extend well beyond the fields of grain on her family farm.

The research for this piece centered around the documentary photography of Walker Evans. In addition to providing good visual research for scenic and costume elements, we took the tone of his black and white photographs as the springboard for our color palette.

The scenery, as you can see from the model shots to the left, consists of a few simple pieces evocative of the shape of various items rather than representational elements. These pieces are all painted white. Upstage, the cyc is tightly closed in and will be used as a projection surface and a lighting surface in Act 1 and Act 3. For the party scene in Act 2, the cyc will be covered with a blackout curtain.

The costumes follow in a monochromatic white palette but maintain the shape and form of period clothes. Thus we have very real people existing in a more abstracted space. The intent being to really bring out the humanity of the characters.

The form of the scenery, with its minimal structure and open use of space, brought to mind dance scenery. As such, I looked at traditional dance lighting angles to approach lighting the space. In keeping with the monochromatic white scenery and costumes I chose to be very sparing with my use of color. While I will use a pale blue for the outside night scene, everything else should fall into more of a sepia tone.

Act 1 is late afternoon on the farm. We are outside and see the edge of the porch leading to the house as well as one corner of the barn and a suggestion of the fence upstage. I wanted to provide some texture to the air as well as clearly give a sense of outside. Leaf patterns seemed an appropriate choice for this. My High Sides from SR all have patterns in them. Act 2 is later that night, inside at a party. For this, top light felt like the most clear indicator of place. We then have an interlude scene before Act 3 which takes place outside, as per Act 1, late at night, just before day break. For the external night scenes I have my High Sides from SL in L161

For general lighting throughout the piece I have a system of Head-Hi and Shin booms, as well as boxbooms for facelight. The boxbooms carry the lighting ideas of both the Hi Sides and the Head Hi Booms out into the front of house. The repertory plot in the theatre has many more lights hung than we are using, but we have a very limited load-in and strike schedule, so I planned for a minimum of lights initially, knowing that we could easily add specials as needed.

The systems are as follows:

  • Template Hi Sides in CLR with pattern R77774

  • Night Hi Sides in L161
  • Party Top Light in R302
  • Head Hi Booms in L203
  • Shin Booms in R05
  • Romance Shins in L201
  • Box Boom SR in CLR with pattern R77774
  • Box Boom SL in L161
  • Box Booms in L203
  • CYC in RGB from the top and bottom

Below is a look at the plot. As you can see there are many more lighting instruments available than I am using. Some of this is an aesthetic choice. I find that opera can often sustain, and in fact wants, a cleaner and more spare composition than do straight plays for example. The other aspect of this choice is time. With such a short load-in/load-out schedule, keeping the refocus to a minimum helps us on both ends of the show.

I hope you have enjoyed this iteration of Inside The Design Idea. Please leave thoughts or comments below.


Creative Commons License

All text on this site, unless otherwise noted, is licensed under a Creative Commons License. All other rights reserved.