Posts Tagged ‘risk’

From the Archives: Risk and Failure – Seven Deadly Sins

Monday, November 9th, 2009

Note: This piece was originally written in 2006. There has been minor editing to fix some grammar.

Risk is something we must always engage with when creating art. There is no foreknowledge of the efficacy of the project. Collaborative art necessitates a strong and deep trust in the work of one’s collaborators. Sometimes these are people you know well while other times they are people you have met quite recently. Often some combination of these two elements occurs in the same production. Regardless, one must place a total trust in the work of your collaborators. The energy is created through this combination of danger and excitement.

When I worked on Seven Deadly Sins we had no idea until the show was over if it would work. There were so many pieces to fit together with the Orchestra, Opera singers, cabaret dancers, blacksmiths, acrobats, fire dancers, etc. etc. The stage was a ninety foot long by four foot wide catwalk with small end stages on either side. The audience sat arena style sandwiching the runway. We had seating for somewhere around 700 people and it quickly became evident to me that the other side of the audience would become a primary visual element of the overall experience.

As a general rule of thumb, a lighting designer tries to keep the light on the stage and off the audience. Of course rules, as we all know, were made to be broken. So rather than try and hide this very present and potentially massive audience, I chose to make them a feature of the evening. Large colored floodlights were pointed at the seating areas in an attempt to light our audience in various colors and thus take them, literally, on the emotional journey of the opera.

These discussions with my director, Roy Rallo, were quite difficult. Given that we did not have an audience, there was no way to test out this effect prior to the opening. As a result I had to convince someone, who I had never worked with before, that the primary storytelling device we would have with the lighting was an effect we could not test prior to the show opening. Essentially he had to trust me that this was the right course of action to take. I confidently told him it was and silently prayed that I was right.

The final effect was greater than I had anticipated. We were fortunate enough to have a filled to capacity house, so the effect was to be the best it could be. And it worked brilliantly. The faces of the audience were clearly visible from across the space and not only did their personal emotional reactions show but the group looked wonderful in the shifting light. There was an immersive quality to the experience that in some significant way derived from the environmental quality of the lighting.

Had we gone with a traditional lighting style, keeping the lights out of the audience, the effect of the piece would not have been so strong. The shifting backgrounds and the degree of contrast with the fire that we achieved would not have been possible. Without that risk of failure, the best aspect of the lighting for that show would never have been. Without risking failure we can never achieve greatness.

All content Copyleft - LucasKrech.com, please Share:
  • Print
  • Digg
  • Twitter
  • StumbleUpon
  • Facebook
  • del.icio.us
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • RSS
  • email

Risk and Failure – Seven Deadly Sins

Thursday, July 20th, 2006

Risk is something we must always engage with when creating art. There is no foreknowledge of the efficacy of the project. It necessitates a strong a deep trust in the work of ones collaborators. Sometimes these are people you know well, other times they are people you have met quite recently. Often some combination of these two elements is inherent in any production. Regardless, one must place a total trust in the work of your collaborators. This situation leads to an energetic combination of danger and excitement.

When I worked on Seven Deadly Sins we had no idea until the show was over if it would work. There were so many pieces to fit together with the Orchestra, Opera singers, cabaret dancers, blacksmiths, acrobats, fire dancers, etc. etc. The stage was a ninety foot long, four foot wide, catwalk with small end stages on either side. The audience sat arena style sandwiching the runway. We had seating for somewhere around 700 people and the it quickly became evident that the other side of the audience would become a primary visual element of the overall experience.

As a general rule of thumb, a lighting designer tries to keep the light on the stage and off the audience. Of course rules, as we all know, were made to be broken. So rather than try and hide this very present and potentially massive audience, I chose to make them a feature of the evening. Large colored floodlights were pointed at the seating areas in an attempt to light our audience in various colors and thus take them, literally, on the emotional journey of the opera.

These discussions with my director, Roy Rallo, were quite difficult. Given that we did not have an audience, there was no way to test out this effect prior to the opening. As a result I had to convince someone, who I had never worked with before, that the primary storytelling device we would have with the lighting, was an effect we could not test prior to the show opening. Essentially he had to trust me that this was the right course of action to take. I confidently told him it was, and silently prayed that I was right.

The final effect that I saw at the opening was far greater than I had anticipated. We were fortunate enough to have a filled to capacity house, so the effect was to be the best it was going to be. And it worked brilliantly. The faces of the audience were clearly visible from across the space and not only did their personal emotional reactions show, but they took on a wonderful quality with the shifting light. There was an immersive quality to the experience that in some significant way derived from the environmental quality of the lighting.

Had we gone with a traditional lighting style and kept the lights out of the audience the effect of the piece would not have been so strong. The shifting backgrounds and the degree of contrast with the fire that we achieved would not have been possible. Without that risk of failure, the best aspect of the lighting for that show would never have been. Without risking failure, we can never achieve greatness.

All content Copyleft - LucasKrech.com, please Share:
  • Print
  • Digg
  • Twitter
  • StumbleUpon
  • Facebook
  • del.icio.us
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • RSS
  • email

Risk and Failure

Wednesday, July 5th, 2006

There is an element of risk in any work of art. There is the simple risk of not knowing if it will get finished, and then there is the more complex risk, of meaning. Are you saying what you want to say? But deeper than that, are you forcing yourself to look beyond your previously determined limitations? Working in a medium like writing this kind of concern becomes clear, in lighting it is much more oblique. Still, we are concerned in the first degree with language and its derivative, meaning. Verbal and oral language on the one hand and visual language on the other.

In a very real sense I do not feel there is any point in doing art if one is unconcerned with risk taking. One can make pretty things by following a formula. Hell, Martha Stewart made an entire career out of the attractiveness of formulaic aesthetics. But this is not art. Art is about risk, it is about danger. Art is about sacrificing that which comes easiest to you and looking for a new path upon which to forge ahead. Art is about failure.

The best art, and yes I am making sweeping generalizations here, always fails. It fails because it does not conform to the accepted aesthetic criteria of its time. It fails because the standards by which it is judged can not encompass it. It can be neither measured nor quantified. It stands apart from the judges, alone and solitary.

But it does something else too. Something positive. Its very reason for failure, its iconoclastic nature, causes it to transform the environment around it. It molds and shapes the world around it until that world learns the new tools by which to measure the work. This is Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. This is Brecht, Weill and Neher presenting Mahagonny at the Baden Baden Festival and getting booed off the stage. This is creating a work so powerful that it alters the way we look at the world.

Very few works will have the kind of effect that these two have had, and not all need to. What is important is the failure. The risk that what is being made may not turn out well. It may not appeal to the mass audience. Yet it still must be done. Without that risk we accept the status quo. Without standing on that ledge and staring into the void we are accepting this world and all that it stands for at face value without asking “what more?”

Guernica did not end war and The Seven Deadly Sins did not end Capitalistic exploitation. I am not sure any work of art can. That is not the role of art in society. Art in general and theatre in particular operates in a very powerful way as a kind of magnifying glass on society and self. It examines closely one or two specific areas of concern and forces us to look at those places within ourselves. This is one area where the live-ness of theatre is unparalleled. We can not escape the fact that this is a person before us. It is not an image or a likeness or a rendering. It is a person. A living breathing thing. It looks like us and speaks like us. Could it be . . .

It is not enough to look at where we are. It is not enough to explore the status quo. And in a way this is why a lot of overtly political art fails(in a bad way) for me. It leaves no room for further exploration. There is no question. Didacticism is rarely interesting. Brecht is not interesting because he proved that Capitalism is bad. He is interesting because in each of his works there is a question. It is not a question that begs an answer so much as a question that simply begs to be asked. Every time we approach a text for production we are not looking to answer anything definitively, rather we are looking to reopen the discussion.

Asking questions is a risk. There is an inherent danger in the act of asking a question because society does not like them. Trotsky argued for perpetual revolution because he knew that any socio-political system that remains static for too long will feel the calcifying tendencies of authoritarianism. It happened in Russia and Cuba almost immediately. It is occurring in the United States right now. Fewer and fewer questions are being asked. Statements are being disguised as questions to maintain the illusion, but that freedom of asking has already gone away. Though not quite completely. There are still cracks in the armor. And this is what we can do as artists. Ask those questions that need be asked and perhaps we might get some light through those cracks. Perhaps we will find the counter force to totalitarianism and control. Perhaps we will risk everything and fail gloriously.

All content Copyleft - LucasKrech.com, please Share:
  • Print
  • Digg
  • Twitter
  • StumbleUpon
  • Facebook
  • del.icio.us
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • RSS
  • email

Creative Commons License

All text and images on this site unless otherwise noted are licensed under a Creative Commons License.