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.
