Posts Tagged ‘lighting’

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.

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.

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.

Better than The Best

Monday, March 29th, 2010

Walking down the street the other day I was thinking about what I want as an artist in light. For a long time, until I boarded this recent train of thought, I wanted to be the best lighting designer in the world. I think a lot of people want that. They don’t necessarily want to be the best lighting designer, but they want to be the best at whatever it is they love to do.

So I wanted to be the best. No. I wanted to be The Best. I wanted, so badly, to be the best there was, that I stopped trying to be better.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have certainly improved. And I continue to do so. But my improvements have largely come, from my perspective, behind the scenes while I strove for being The Best.

This was not always the case. For a long time, until fairly recently, I simply wanted to be better. Sure, I wanted to be The Best, but that was a goal pointing me in a direction. It was a vector, not a destination. A verb, not a noun. What I was doing day to day was simply improving my craft in my medium. I kept working, tirelessly, on my craft. Improving my use of color and angle. Getting better at worksheets and drafting. In short I was doing everything that a student of an art form should do. I was analyzing mistakes and working to improve them.

Somewhere along the way I stopped learning in the way that I had been doing. I think I know when it was too. A few years ago I got hired by a regional theater to light a play. What play it was and where it performed is irrelevant. I was flown out from New York, lit the show, and knocked the design out of the park. We’re talking bases loaded, solid contact, clean hit way out into right field and over the bleachers. In short, the show looked damn good.

For many people this would simply be one step towards a new and better achievement. But I have a problem with success. I have had this trouble all my life. Or at least as far as I can remember. I can be great at something until the point at which I become aware of how good I am. Then I falter.

That is not entirely accurate.

The trouble is not just becoming aware of talent. It is when the voice of success becomes louder than the voice of critique. It was that voice of critique that I lost in the success.

This is not to say that I have not done some great work since. I have. Recently too. But the work I have done for the last few years has been largely at the same level. It is often good, but it is not getting better. Further, in striving to be The Best, without working continuously to be better, I have made some awesome miscalculations. Overconfidence is the risk faced when the inner critic is not given full voice.

But more generally than that, when we stop learning, when we cease asking questions, we stop growing. As I have been mulling these thoughts around in my head for the last several days I realized that the greatest artists, certainly the ones I have been attracted to, tend to live as permanent students of their art form.

I am reminded of the line from Shunryu Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Begrinner’s Mind, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind there are few.”

I have come to realize that in order to truly excel as an artist in light I need to first and foremost be a student of light. I may one day become a teacher, but in order to teach, I must be able to learn. Yet right now, in order to become better, in order to even get back on the path towards being the best, I have to learn. I must be a student. I must approach light with the Beginner’s Mind.

Being a student means asking questions. It means constant improvement. It means having fun with what you are doing. It means every day choosing to learn because of the joy of knowledge and improvement. Learning, it seems, is better than being the best.

An approach to Composition – Lighting the performer

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

One of the most difficult things to talk about with regards to lighting design is composition. Part of this is due to the fact that light is so ephemeral that even with pictures and illustrations the ideas are slippery. As a result, most discussions of composition fall into explorations of lighting angles and their effect on the human figure. While this is necessary information, its utility is limited. Composition is more than knowing what backlight does or what red does. It is knowing what and how these fit together into a larger whole. I approached issues of composition indirectly in my series on color theory but again, this was looking exclusively at color rather than taking an integrated approach and extracting a theory. What I will be looking at in this brief series is a general approach, or orientation, to thinking about composition.

Many of my ideas about composition stem from my earliest artistic endeavors. When I was a child I loved the game Dungeons and Dragons. I played regularly, read over the rule books incessantly, but of import to this post, I painted lead figures with the zeal of a fanatic. By the time I was a teenager I had become good enough at painting these 1″ fantasy figures that I was selling them at the local games shop to fund my painting habit (I was an early entrepreneur). I painted countless hundreds of these figures. Self taught in that realm, I developed a system for approaching their painting which maps almost perfectly to lighting design and has guided my thinking as a designer, in some form or another, since I started.

The figures themselves are made of lead, or some other soft metal. The first step is to prime the metal for the application of paint. Either a grey or black primer would be used, typically black, as it would help to deepen the shadows. Once primed and dry, the first layers of paint would be applied. These would be the broad, general, colors of each main area, perhaps a dark brown for the tunic and leggings, a green for the cape, medium blue for the skin (these are fantasy figures after all), and yellow for the hair. This would be the first phase. It gives a basic outline of the look of the figure.

Phase two deals with shadow and tone. Once the basic colors are dry I would apply a toning wash to the different areas. This would be a similar hue as the base color but often darker and slightly cooler. The paint itself would be greatly watered down, to allow it to concentrate in the valleys and folds of the figure, and have less of an impact on the areas of highlight. The brown for the clothes might have a little black added to it. The green for the cape would get some blue. To the blue of the skin I would add some red. For the yellow hair, orange.

Once all the shadow washes were dry, I would go back over the various areas with the original color using a drybrush technique to bring that color back. I would then go over that with progressively lighter drybrush layers to really make the highlights and shadows have a strong contrast. As I was highlighting, I would use split compliments to heighten the contrast. So if the toning for the green cape added blue, then I would add yellow to the base color for the highlights. This general outline yields strongly contrasting shadows and highlights, and gives the figure a distinctive look.

The final touch would be detail elements like belts and belt buckles, eyes, fingernails, jewelry, and other small items. Once all that was complete, the whole figure would get sprayed with a clear sealant to protect the paint.

Lighting for the stage follows the exact same structure. First, we prime the space by turning off all the lights and creating a darkened stage. Second we turn on our primary visibility lights. Depending on your approach these may be frontlight or they may be sidelight. Or something else entirely. Once we can see our performer, we address the shadows. This is typically done through a low front position, a backlight position, or a high sidelight position. When the shadows are complete, we turn to highlights. These might be low sidelights for example. The result is a composition rich in texture and a figure that is fully dimensional.

Depending on the tone of the show, the treatment of shadows and highlights will vary. In a musical comedy, the visibility light might be diagonal front lights in R53. The shadow/toning lights an L079 from the balcony rail and an L180 backlight. The highlights, a high side in L152 and R302 Head hi booms. In a dark minimalist opera, the visibility light might be clear head his, the shadows darkness, and the highlights L201 shins.

While the specifics of color and angle will vary depending upon the needs of the production, the general approach remains constant. As lighting designers for live performance, we are concerned with visibility, shadow, and highlight. Having a clear framework to approach composition is a powerful tool that allows the designer to clearly and directly approach a work.

In my next post I will continue with part two of this series, Lighting the Scenery.

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

From the Archives: The Freedom of Minimalism

Friday, March 12th, 2010

Note: This post originally appeared here in 2007.

The aesthetics of Minimalism are at once precise and freeing. Precise because as one removes extraneous elements from a work what remains takes on increasing significance. Freeing because the relationships are so clear that one can shift and recombine them in a multitude of ways allowing the multiplicity of experience to shine through.

mondrian_albero_rosso

So often the theatre is dominated by a kind of maximalism. A desire to put everything possible into a single work as if by desperation trying to contain all of experience in a few hours performance. The result is often the opposite of what is intended. Rather that giving the fullness of experience, each element is diminished as it all fades into a wash of gray, bland and undistinguished.

This is not to say that minimalism does not employ a rigid and tightly controlled grayscale, but it does so knowing that the fullness of each of those few grays will come across. The depth and subtlety of slight variation becomes a thing of power and strength rather than a faltering weakness.

Mondrian-apple-tree

To work from a minimalist aesthetic requires rigor and discipline. Because while there is a great deal of freedom, if any single element is out of place the work implodes under the weight of its own delicate structure.

Every move must be precise and calculated. At the same time one must allow for room to breathe. For play. Minimalism defines itself not in relation to itself but in relation to the varied multiplicity of the world around it. A blank page only appears blank when surrounded by the frantic modern world. Taken on its own the blank white page is a universe unto itself, filled with color and texture and infinite stories. The filled page is far more fixed and reduced in scale by comparison.

Mondrian-Composition_II-1913

It is interesting to me how much the theatre of the Greeks lends itself to a minimalist aesthetic. When I worked on Medea we employed a very strict minimalism with incredibly slight changes in angle or color. With Antigone we opened up the palette more allowing for greater, yet still a very slight, range of color. This control of the color palette cause the shifts in angle and direction of the light to be quite significant.

ryb

In a minimalist aesthetic one often takes a single characteristic or element that remains static around which all other elements rotate. In painting perhaps one employs the use of strict linearity but then gives great variety and contrast to the colors, with vibrant and bold strokes.

In Antigone a tightly controlled color palette gave rise to a great variety in angle, direction and shadow. The simplicity of the setting allowed for a high contrast with the costume. Finding these points of control is what makes possible the freedom in a minimalist work. A clear centerpoint is the basis of minimalism.

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.

Inside the Design Idea – The Sisters Rosensweig

Friday, December 25th, 2009

I wrote last week about a few projects I am working on that have embraced an aesthetic of minimalism in their productions due to budgetary issues. But how do these ideas arise? More importantly how do they develop into a final product? I have written generically about my design process but I thought it might be fun to explore a single project more in depth to see how these ideas make it to the stage.

I was approached by Aaron Davidman, Artistic Director of The Jewish Theater – San Francisco, to light his production of Wendy Wasserstein’s The Sisters Rosensweig for their 2010 season. I had never read or seen the play so my first read for this production was my first time ever through the play. I had no preconceived notions of what it was about or how it “should” look. So I sat down with the text and began to read the play fresh.

Upon that first read I was struck with how important time is to the play. It takes place over a 36 hour period and all the action occurs in the same location. It is almost Greek in its unity of time, place, and action. As a lighting designer time of day is a central concern when working through the text. While location is important it is not central in the same way that time is. Even when the work is highly abstracted there needs to be some unity of expressing a changing time of day. Because time plays such a central role in the storytelling of Sisters Rosensweig I became instantly curious about how to provide that.

The script calls for a rather elaborate setting inside a well furnished apartment. While the action takes place in this well furnished apartment what is more central to the dramatic storytelling is that everything happens in the same room. I proposed to Aaron that we consider setting the play on a rather minimal set and utilize lighting conventions borrowed from the dance world to approach the piece. He readily welcomed the idea and we set out with our scenic designer to craft this world.

I find that audiences respond quite favorably to naturalistic plays happening on abstracted settings. When abstracted in the right way, such that the core storytelling elements are highlighted, the abstraction makes the reality of the characters resonate strongly. One trouble that can arise in naturalistic settings is that the characters get lost amidst the scenery. While it is a perfect approach for film, strict naturalism can impede an audience’s ability to process natural dialog. Abstract minimalism takes the benefits of abstraction even further and gives the audience a clear focus on the actors. After all the audience pays to see actors not well executed scenery, beautiful costumes, or fancy lighting.

As we developed our setting for Sisters Rosensweig we were very careful to create a space and develop ideas that will always keep our focus on the performer. A white rectangle set against a black floor to bound our room filled with a few simple furniture pieces, a staircase, and a chandelier all backed by a large and expansive sky. The sky, truly a white cyc, will be variously lit to show the passage of day into night and back into day. The performers will be clearly and cleanly lit and set against this shifting sky.

Through a clear focus on the performance we will create a visual space which can ebb and flow along with the emotional moment of the play. Each of the seven scenes take place at a slightly different time of day. In order to show these transformations the cyc will be lit variously from the top and bottom in a range of colors from morning pastels, to cool gray midday clouds, to nothing late at night. A shifting sun will illuminate the cyc variously from the sides as well as low and center on the horizon for an evening sunset.

While the sky will be changing behind us, the performers will be lit in cool shades of gray. Keeping the light on the actors in a tight color range of 3400° K – 5700° K will provide a clean and crisp look appropriate for both the sharp witted comedy as well as the darker moments of the piece. This color palette also evokes the cool light of London wherein the play is set.

Here is a breakdown of the lighting systems:

  • Two color Backlight in L201 (for daylight) and CLR (for the chandelier)
  • High Crosslight in L202
  • Head Hi Crosslight in CLR
  • Diagonal Frontlight in R3216
  • Scenery specials in L202
  • Cyc Top in L281, L161, and L119 as well as GAP508 templates in L201
  • Cyc Bottom in R53, L161, and R68
  • Cyc Sides in L025, R68, L201, and L193
  • The center sunset is a fresnel in L176 and the morning sunrise templates are GAP228 in color L101

All the actor lighting is done with frosted Source-4 Lekos. This will allow me to make shutter cuts to the white performance space and keep as clean a look as possible on the stage. The CYC is lit with various FarCycs, Mini-Strips, Fresnels, and PARs.

As of this writing the lighting paperwork is all finished and sent off to the master electrician and production manager. I have seen an early run through of the piece and have some basic cueing ideas although that will get fleshed out in later meetings with the director. We load in the lighting and scenery at the end of December, focus the lights, and then walk away for a few days over the New Year. When we come back in January we will begin lighting rehearsals.

Doing a post like this which goes into the specifics of a design for a show is new for me (I typically stick to theory). How was it for you as a reader? Would you like to see more of this?

Drop me a line in comments and let me know what you think.

The Structural Failure of The Idiot Savant

Monday, October 26th, 2009

Richard Foreman is known for his signature visual and performative style. If you have seen any of his works you should be familiar with the pieces of string, barriers, dotted lines, bits of fringe, voiceover, ambient soundscapes, lighting instruments pointed at the audience, and more. Each of these elements are used by Foreman to create a specific effect in the audience. Some are there to create a kind of aesthetic distance between the audience and viewer(string, barriers). Other elements are there precisely to overcome that distance and bring the energy of the stage into the space inhabited by the audience(voiceover, lights pointed at the audience). One is simultaneously drawn in and pushed away from the work. That tension gives his works a singular quality and contributes to their almost indescribable power.

What must be remembered when experiencing one of his works, and yes experiencing is more accurate than mere viewing, is that every element of the performance is present for a very specific reason. Nothing is mere decoration. Each aspect of the production works with (and against) every other element to become a cohesive (if not fully understandable) whole. Foreman’s plays are complex psychological machines which manifest for the audience a wide and complicated emotional spectrum.

Many elements that go into a Foreman production have been appropriated by various avant garde theater makers and others exhibiting nothing more than a derivative quality. For once the element is used without concern for its precise role in the work, but rather for surface effect, its power disappears. Foreman is very careful about this and will readily change or cut something that is not working to full effect.

Most of his works have been produced in his long time theater, the Ontological-Hysteric, in St. Mark’s Church. That space is small with a rather low ceiling. As a result the force of his works are direct and powerful. In producing Idiot Savant he has moved from his usual space to a larger theater at The Public. In this space not only is the audience seating area bigger but the stage itself is far deeper and has a much higher ceiling.

While Foreman’s traditional elements are employed in Idiot Savant there has been a translation of sorts in order to make them work in the same way in this larger space. More string than usual as well as a larger focus on designing the audience area in addition to the stage space has had to happen. Every element scaled up properly to this new space except for the lighting. The lighting designer, rather than deeply exploring how Foreman uses the various lighting elements in his plays and making sure they scale to the new space, simply hung those same instruments in the larger theater. The result is a structural failure of the lighting plot that, despite vigilant efforts by Foreman, has not been fully solved.

The lighting designer put together the physical lighting plot and then left Foreman to his own devices for a month to actually light the play. Foreman made numerous changes, structurally, the the plot, taking what was largely unusable and moving them around to actually provide some function and value to the play. Many of the ideas from the original lighting plot read as derivative attempts to achieve a Foremanesque aesthetic in contradistinction to the hardworking elements Foreman typically employs.

Being the true master that he is, Foreman has done a miraculous job of lighting the play to a rather striking effect. After all, in the hands of a master, art can be made from nearly anything. While the work looks good the lighting lacks a certain vitality inherent to much of his previous works due to the oversight by the lighting designer in terms of accurately translating the ideas into the larger theater. While getting bogged down by details such as specking several variations of virtually identical floodlights, the larger conceptual design problem failed to be solved.

What Foreman has done with such a severe structural handicap is admirable. But the sad reality is that the work fails to live up to its true potential. The beauty of the rest of the work (scenery, costumes, sound and staging) which was accurately translated to the larger space is met only half way by the lighting.

The inherent failure of the lighting design in Idiot Savant comes from a lack of foresight on the part of the designer to translate the ideas behind Foreman’s lighting work into a system that would achieve those same results in the larger theater this work is being performed in. Foreman’s use of lighting instruments pointed at the audience creates powerful psychologoical effects. Without properly scaling them out of the Ontological and into the Martinson what we are left with are merely superficial tropes lacking the power and vitality that his work both demands and deserves.

This lack is striking precisely because the rest of the work is so powerful. The vitality and immediacy of the play makes it stand out as a work worthy of this great master’s final homage to the stage. His directorial mastery is shown to powerful effect and anyone doubting his approach to performance would do well to see this piece and reconsider those opinions. All that said, the failure in the lighting design leaves one wishing his collaborator had been more invested in creating an accurate translation of the work rather than merely copying and pasting ideas without getting behind their authentic essence.


Creative Commons License

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