Posts Tagged ‘dance’

Review: Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly – Dancing Perfectly Free

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

Here is a review from our New York show on the blog Dancing Perfectly Free. Enjoy!

Year in Review – 2009

Thursday, December 31st, 2009

The New Year is my favorite holiday. It is wholly arbitrary and I find that delightful. One day out of the year the whole world celebrates together. Along with celebration is reflection. 2009 has been quite a year over here at Light Cue 23.

In the world of extreme emotions, my grandmother died and I hung out with rock stars.

We discussed the business of being a freelance lighting designer:

A lot of pictures were posted about:

We explored lighting angles in depth:

Over at Parabasis I was a guest writer with a series titled A Designer Prepares about my design process:

I explored my lighting process in depth through an exploration of a few specific projects:

I wrote about how I approach text:

I explored the relationship between a recession and aesthetics.

I tried to understand the nature of revolution in today’s world:

I wrote about networks:

I made a visual resume.

I spoofed my own blog with 5 Tips to build your blog audience and why my blog will never be popular.

I talked about boredom and the color gray

I discussed dance on my blog and in a guest post at On Stage Lighting.

I wrote about how to approach lighting for the floor and the balcony.

I discussed the relationship between New York and the rest of the country.

I argued that “good enough” isn’t and how type casting can be a good thing.

There was a lot more written this year and you are more than welcome to peruse the archives. This is just a sampling of some of my favorites. All in all it has been a good year over here. How has your year been?

Inside the Design Idea – Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly

Monday, December 28th, 2009

When Ben Levy, Artistic Director and choreographer for LEVYdance, contacted me about lighting his most recent full evening piece I was excited. We have worked together before and not only do I enjoy his choreography but I enjoy him as well. We have a good working relationship and appreciate each other’s aesthetic approaches. When we sat down to discuss the piece and he told me the general concept my initial reaction was that this was unlightable.

To many “unlightable” would be a place to stop, turn around, and go home. For me I saw it as an opportunity to look for new ways of approaching dance lighting. Why was the piece unlightable? Let’s look at the layout a bit. The work takes place inside a 30′x30′ square space bounded by 10′ tall screens which hang 4′ above the ground. On these screens are projections. The audience sits on all four sides in two rows thus creating a 20′x20′ dance space. On the floor of this dance space is more projection.

Because there are four walls traditional low angled side lighting was out. Because of the projections there could be no light on the floor or walls (light washes out the projection). Because the audience was so close and we could not have light in their eyes there was no high side/front/back light available. The only thing left were downlight pools but that would not have worked aesthetically for the piece. What to do?

As we talked more about the piece it became obvious that A) the projections were not on all the surfaces at all times, B) there were times when the projections could be, at least partially, washed out by the lighting, and C) we could light into the audience’s eyes on occasion when used judiciously. In addition to all that the walls do not make true corners but have 4′ openings where the “corner” would be. Lastly, because of the immediate proximity of the audience very little light could go a long way towards illuminating the performers.

One of the ideas with the piece (reflected in the video) is that the dancers are, at least initially, controlled by the space or there is a direct dialog between performer and venue. It opens as a kind of video installation with audience mingling about looking at images on the four screens. At some point the video fades out while our dancers get in place. Once in place a new reactive video begins which illuminates any movement in the dance space. Since this is not your typical dance show I knew that attempting to force “dance lighting” into this space would fail. I had to approach the space on its own terms.

This freed things up a bit and led me to look formally at the space as an object in which action occurs. I saw the open corners as alleys through which light could move. I saw the screens as walls off of which I could bounce light to illuminate our performers. Taking that idea one step further I chose to add bounce cards in the air which I would light to give a soft glow to the space. That idea of bounce light caused me to think of juxtaposing hard and soft sources in addition to varying the lighting by direct and indirect sources.

The light plot is a formally organized system of lights that creates an ordered geometry in the space. By giving myself control over each of the lights I could turn on all of a given system to create that formal geometry or only part of a system to throw the formality off balance as dictated by the needs of the choreography.

The video images are low-res black and white with one notable exception. As such I chose to follow the lead of the projections and keep the lighting in that same color world of gray tones. The video, music, and choreography run the gamut of soft and tender to harsh and severe. I wanted the quality of light to follow that same range and looked for a variety of options through which to achieve that.

The systems I used were as follows:

  • Daylight Fluorescents in CLR
  • Head Highs in L202
  • Overhead bounce in L201
  • Screen bounce in L201
  • Downlight pools in L202
  • Downlight Specials in L201
  • High Cross in L281

The Fluorescents make “corners” at the corners of the dance space. Booms are placed in each corner outside the screens with two lights each; a head high (for an alley shot across the space) and a low unit (for the overhead bounce cards). Three Source-4s and a Fresnel hang just above each screen; the Fresnels are for the screen bounce while the Source-4’s make up the high cross system (individually controlled and sharp edged to make boxes that the dancers can move in and out of). The downlights are a 3×3 grid of Fresnels. The downlight specials are for a special moment at the end and are hard edged Source-4s.

Here is a look at the light plot:

This show has a very controlled color palette ranging from 4300° K – 5700° K. Despite such a tight range of color the quality of light varies radically from sharp edged focusable lights to diffuse flood lights to indirect bounce light. Most lighting for live performance uses color and angle as the main story telling devices. In this case I was largely limited to variations on top light and had to look to the quality of light for variation. It is a sensibility common in television and film but rarely encountered in live performance.

The show tours to DC and New York before playing in San Francisco. On the road this design will be modified slightly at each venue as the equipment will vary. While some venues will not allow for the precision of hard eged vs. soft edged I should be able to maintain the direct and indirect sources with full integrity.

What did you think of this post? Let me know in comments.

Updating Style – The Balance of Revivals

Monday, September 14th, 2009

One of the great advantages that performance mediums have over the plastic arts is their immediacy. The work exists in real time and consists of a direct energetic exchange between performer and audience. The immediacy of the performance experience is typically mirrored by a design style that has direct aesthetic resonance with the contemporary world. When dealing with classics, like the Greeks or Shakespeare, the visual style is often updated in such a way that there are two parallel stories occurring for the audience. There is the story of the dialogue and the story of the visual world. Handling contemporary works and classics are often quite clear. There is a middle ground, however, that can be nebulous and murky; the revival.

Revivals, as I am discussing them, are shows anywhere from about ten to a hundred years old. They are old enough that they have already had a successful life as a contemporary work but new enough that they land within, albeit near the edges of, contemporary aesthetics. Revivals are very common in the three major disciplines of dramatic performance; theater, dance and opera.

Last week I posted Antony Tudor’s notes on the design for Lilac Garden, a revival of which I lit several years ago. With that piece we had the dual job of remaining faithful to the spirit of the original and at the same time making the work visually accessible to a contemporary audience.

Finding the balance between the aesthetic spirit of the original and the contemporary eye can be quite difficult when reviving a work. We are ultimately concerned with creating relevant and challenging work for our audience and as such make decisions that at times run counter to how the work was originally presented. Were our interest merely to recreate the work exactly as it was originally seen it would fail dramatically in terms of creating an experience fully embodying the immediacy of now.

When I worked at San Francisco Opera we would run into this problem regularly. Pieces that had been sitting on shelves and in warehouses, literally for decades, would be dusted off and presented on stage. Sometimes the sheer force of history would be compelling like the Tosca which was a recreation of the original design that had opened up the Opera house in the 1930’s or the Traviata designed by John Conklin before his deconstructionist phase.

Many times the works would not stand up on their own and would need to be reconsidered. Colors might get updated from the greenish blues of the 1980’s to the cleaner blues used today. Heavy ambers, once quite compelling, would be exchanged for crisper warm tones. Intensities would be brought up to more accurately match an eye that is now used to brighter stages.

In each of these cases a balance must be struck between the design as it originally was and the production as it reads today. Similarly, these issues come in to play with new productions of older plays all the time. The South Pacific I am currently assisting on is one such example. The designs by Michael Yeargan and Don Holder at once contain the spirit of the show as it was written and pay homage to an older aesthetic viewpoint. At the same time their designs land firmly within the contemporary visual language we speak today.

This balance with the visual language is a significant contributor to the success of the show on Broadway. Creating a design that is not just a contemporary look backwards but rather a fusion of styles gives the piece its power and allows it to neither fall into the trap of museum curiosity nor pure commentary. Some aspects of the show which, given what we know about the world today, sound foolishly naive become accessible. The design at once frames the piece and gives the audience a way in to a different world. It is true to itself and is true to that historical world on its own terms.

This world into which the work gives us access is not the “world of the play” so often discussed by theater makers. It is the world in which the play was written. The visual style orients the audience towards the work in such a way that it can see through the gloss of time and access it as the deeply critical and risque work that it was when it opened.

Variations on this theme exist in all works that were created in a different time. Being sensitive to not only the work and text itself but the orientation of the audience to that work is what makes a design successful. We create the visual framing devices that allow the audience to see the work for what it is and give them access to a text that may land far afield of their own native experience. Our work as designers opens wide the doors through which an audience may directly engage with the energy of the performance. Our work constructs the conduit through which that energetic exchange exists.

Jardin aux Lilas Excerpt by Antony Tudor

Monday, September 7th, 2009

A few years ago I lit a production of Lilac Garden for New York Theater Ballet reconstructed by the late Sallie Wilson. I was given the following to help guide my lighting of the piece. It is written by Antony Tudor, choreographer for the ballet.

Wilson was rather exacting with her reconstructions and this was given to me as a means of most accurately addressing the lighting for this piece. In deference to the rigor with which we reconstructed the ballet, I am including Tudor’s words, unedited, with the inclusion of grammatical and spelling errors, as per the original.

I hope you enjoy.

“Jardin aux Lilas” is more often requested by companies for inclusion in their repertory than any of my other ballets, and is often asked for by groups with little experience and small resources in matters of technique, personal, or training. It must be supposed that, to a director, it must seem very practical in every way, but this is a misconception and a delusion. And the delusions seem to include that of regarding this piece as “romantic”, because there is a romanticism about the scenery with its overwhelming masses of lilacs, and of the predominantly blue lighting, for the dim light filtering through from the right off-stage area where we suppose the house to be is the only other color used.

Although the short story based on the idea of the “Droit du Seigneur” was abandoned, the situation remains a dramatic one, without the former melodrama, and the “dramatis personae” of the four principals are thrown into relief by the background of the young friends of Caroline with their easy sort of romanticism of the adolescents and teenagers.

The ballet is steeped in the conventions of the beginning of the twentieth century, when young girls of good families were trained in the good manners of young ladies of refinement, with the right social graces and an understanding that a girl remains a virgin until she is Married. Caroline’s young friend who makes his appearance unexpectedly, having unexpectedly, having played “french leave” from his Academy, has grown up with her as children together and they probably always assumed in their innocence that they would eventually be married with each other.

Unfortunately the diminishing fortunes of her parents, having no longer the wealth that was formerly theirs have arranged a betrothal, with her consent, to Caroline with a very rich young man of considerable financial means. He has great ambition, is very successful and is accustomed to knowing what he wants and always getting it, and his marriage to Caroline will open doors to many of the old families who still wielded enormous influence. The fourth of the group of principals is the fashionable about-town woman with whom he has conducted a love relationship of long standing, and she also appears unexpectedly upon the scene through the side entrance. It is understandable that characters of this complexity cannot expect to be performed by young talented technicians whose sole education seems to have been acquired in the limited conversations of the ballet studios and dressing rooms. And they can be very limiting.

In this ballet I had the inestimable advantage of working is out with dancers with whom I had worked very much before, and we were able to understand each other and to be truly “simpatico” but all of whom were bringing adult minds with them.

They understood my approach and worried with it, but Rambert herself did not and after a few incidences when she tried to get my dancers to put more motion into it, to “feel with the emotions” or in other words to ham it up and turned it toward the melodrama that I was so studiously avoiding, then it became necessary to forbid her to attend any further rehearsals of this piece, and if she as much as poked her nose in the door than all action came to an immediate halt.

This ballet concerns itself with the hiding of emotions from public display, but still conveying through the performance the emotions that were being concealed. As is the case with the majority of my ballets the performers must recognize the existence of the audience’s presence and the fourth side of the stage in “Jardin aux Lilas” is as much overgrown with lilacs in the old part of a manor house garden as are painted scenery on stage, and the proscenium arch is not there in essence. And the audience are witnessing the action clandestinely.

The ballet continues a regular course of narrative choreography until the moment of Caroline’s swooning into her betrothed’s arms. The succeeding sleepwalking episode, which should be handled as though water divination was happening, and the succeeding sequence for the four principals should be looked upon as if the ballet until this moment were being regarded nostalgically from a period still forty years ahead. This is ended by the White girl beckoning that the carriage has arrived to take Caroline and her future husband into their new life far away, and the ballet ends with her young friend left alone and solitary in the deserted garden, and regretting that he will likely never see Caroline again and that this last time together was made impossible of any joys of being together by the constant interruptions by other people in the ballet. Now all of this of the past and the future is now present.

Musically it is necessary that Chanson’s guiding remarks shall be followed and also that the main theme whenever it returns shall also return to the “l’istesso tempo”, especially with the entrance of the orchestra after the original exposition by the solo violin.

The lighting should be as though moonlight was filtering through overhead branches and should be of various shades from blue spotlights to cover the whole dancing area of the stage.

Transformative Performance

Monday, August 24th, 2009

Last week I pulled on some low hanging fruit to make an argument about live performance and social change. While there has been some interesting dialog about that, the focus has largely been on the example used, Burning Man, rather than the larger question I was interested in: how can art, and performance in particular, serve as a vehicle for social change? That line of questioning largely got lost. It is worth our effort now to tease that idea out of the shadows and bring it center stage into the spotlight for closer exploration.

Let us review last week’s post:

We, the makers of the work, create this space and this experience for our audience and ourselves. But what happens next? What guarantee, if any, do we have that the ideas and transformations from within the work will in any way transition out to the real world and effect true social change?

While it is certainly true that the cause and effect relationship between art and action is rarely if ever clear and direct, it is significant to explore our motives for creating the art in the first place. If one is merely interested in creating diversions from daily life, and that is certainly the intent of many people, then we can stop the questioning now. If we are interested in works that spark the imagination, engage thinking and potentially transform, we must not only question our work and our motives, but seek to find ways of further enhancing the experience beyond the confines of the performance venue.

The Temporary Autonomous Zone of the performance creates a resonant chamber wherein new and potentially revolutionary ideas germinate. The performance itself must be transplanted into the fertile soil of society to truly take root. Such performances are rare, but possible.

Let us look at a recent example of a performance moving its ideas into the larger social world, How Theatre Failed America, by monologist Mike Daisey. His performed piece was accompanied by an essay along similar themes titled The Empty Spaces. The thrust of the work is how the focus in mainstream American theater has shifted from the work and the artists who create that work to the institutions themselves and the buildings that house those institutions. While I was unable to see the actual work performed, due to logistical circumstances beyond my control, I did read about the fallout around the internet including Mike’s blog wherein he engaged with several artistic directors and theater makers across the country in email, essay and blog comments. The resultant conversation, while it may not have effected immediate change, certainly shifted the dialogue around artist salaries and related topics.

An older example worth exploring is Rites of Spring by Stravinsky and Nijinsky. That work was so extreme, relative to what the status quo music and dance worlds could understand, that it quite literally sparked a riot in the audience. The revolutionary force of the performance was such that the audience could do nothing but react through physical violence.

I am not arguing that art must shock and devolve into riots in order to be effective. I am saying that true art must effect some kind of change if not outright transformation in the viewer. Simply reinforcing the values and opinions of the audience is not the role of art, particularly performance.

I hold performance up to such a high standard because of the liveness of it. There is a direct energetic channel created between viewer and performer that, unlike the plastic arts, is not mediated by materials but rather exists directly in the experience of the work. Because performance happens over time, unlike a painting or sculpture which happens instantaneously, the performer and audience are undertaking a journey together. Thus an idea or emotion is presented, expanded upon, negated, and otherwise radically transformed over the course of the journey.

This thinking has moved us deeper into the subject of our inquiry, but has not solved the fundamental problem at its core. The question remains how artists interested in effecting social change through their work might do so. We will continue to explore this idea as we move deeper into the possibilities inherent in performance.

A Look at Past Dances

Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009

Here is a sampling of some dances and ballets I have lit over the last few years. It provides a nice overview of the range of lighting design I have done.

Click on any image to see more. Photo credits and collaborator info available on click-through.


Dracul: Prince of Fire


Romeo and Juliet


Mazurkas


Color Codes: A Point of Hue


Le Combat


Mother GOOSE!


Prayer

Dance Lighting – Introduction

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009

I wrote an article for the British design blog On Stage Lighting about dance lighting. Check out the article here.

Lighting the Dance – At home and away

Monday, June 8th, 2009

Plays share a lot in common with novels. They are character driven long-form storytelling. Designing for dance differs greatly from theatrical works. If theatre is like a novel, then dance is like a poem. In fact, the poetry of dance has led some people to speak of it as the the very quintessence of performance. Lighting dance is very much like composing a poem. One must be incredibly attuned to each and every choice as the slightest misstep will throw the whole thing off.

The first real modern theory of dance lighting was developed by Jean Rosenthal and then further advanced by Tom Skelton in his The Handbook for Dance Stagecraft. Numerous designers since have provided their own changes, elaborations or theories of their own to the world of dance lighting.

One of the central issues surrounding lighting dance is the tension between the home season and the tour. Most to all major dance companies make their money through national and international touring. They will have a “home season” in whatever city they are based in and then go on tour for several weeks to several months with a repertory of old and new pieces. The home season is often the time where new pieces are premiered before they go on the road.

One of the major challenges of dance lighting is dealing with the tour. One must construct a design that is simple and flexible enough that it can be recreated in any venue the company might encounter. At the same time, the design must be true to the uniqueness and individuality of the specific piece at hand.

Theatre and dance are both about storytelling. Both deal with the vicissitudes of human emotion. Both are art forms that take place live over time. Dance differs greatly from a play in one major, and I would hope obvious regard. While lighting a play is about dialogue, lighting dance is about movement. In a play an actor might stand down stage left and deliver a soliloquy only to be joined by another performer wherein the two meet midstage center to discuss various matters.

Dance on the other hand engages much more directly with space as a volumous object. The duet begins way upstage in stillness, they slowly begin to make their way downstage only to break off into wide sweeping movement around the very edges of the stage. Here, each movement phrase is like its own dialogue, its own soliloquy. Perhaps the stillness demands one kind of lighting while the sweeping runs demand another.

Lighting Antony Tudor’s Lilac Garden demands a very different visual sensibility than lighting Victor Kabaniaev’s choreography in Dracul. Yet they both demand a poetic heart to render the lighting in a manner appropriate to the piece.

In no other performative medium is the tie between performer and designer so strong as in in dance. The clothes of an actor come close but do not exhibit so fully and completely a whole relationship as that of the dancer and their light. For the light of dance is not merely illumination, it is setting too. But far from it being divorced from the performer it is setting as psychological space, the internal world made manifest. As such the lighting in dance is as much costume as anything else. The relationship between dancer and light is perhaps equalled only by that of dancer and music. A desperately intimate relationship that calls the audience to watch in voyeuristic silence.

Dance is a direct expression of the human soul. As such, the lighting must be treated with the care and respect that such intimacy and vulnerability deserve. Remembering Jean Rosenthal’s words might get us close to this idea: “Dancers live in light, like fish live in water.”

What is there to write?

Monday, April 6th, 2009

I wrote my first poem in over two years yesterday. This led me to browse through my blog only to discover that the last real post was from over a month ago and the last bit of theory written over a year ago. For a blog ostensibly about the theoretical aspects of design, that is a bit less than ideal.

This is curious to me as I have written my whole life, in one form or another. To find myself in a place where I am not writing feels odd. I have been taking a lot in, expanding my horizons with new books and blogs, but the creative impulse around writing has not shown up strongly, if at all, for quite some time. The tapering off of the writing began about a year ago when, show after show after show fell through for one reason or another, most often economic. Had I been paying closer attention I should have seen the recession much earlier than most. But then hindsight is 20/20.

So much of my blog was as a process blog and when the process began to falter through producers running out of money, the blog ceased to hold much weight for me. I was not interested in chronicling the non-existent projects of now former producers so I was left with no there there upon which the writing could hold. Talking about upcoming projects that may well dematerialize seemed futile.

I was originally interested in theoretical discourses, but found the lack of engagement by other artists to be a little off putting. I began to feel that I was writing the blog equivalent of that zen koan about trees falling in the woods. Not that I didn’t have readers, but it was the lack of commenters that caused things to really wind down.

What is interesting is that in the last several months I have discovered a new depth and sophistication to my lighting work but have not been putting word to screen about it much since the overall momentum of the writing has been lost. The dance work I have done so far this year has been pleasing to me and my theatre work very much so.

I just got back from LA where I actually did some interesting work translating a show from a dance venue into a Rock&Roll venue. It was both technically and artistically challenging and the results were as good as could be expected under the circumstance. Later this week I begin tech for The Floating Lightbulb. While the lighting demands for this play are slim I think the result will be quite nice. The people are great, from the artistic team to the production staff at the theatre, so I am feeling good about the next stretch of time.

I don’t know if the writing impulse will return or if the tone and focus of this blog will change. Right now I am just becoming OK with not writing, not putting any pressure on my self to do this( I started because it was fun after all) and seeing where, if anywhere my writing chooses to go.


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