Posts Tagged ‘musicals’

Interruption Culture

Friday, May 28th, 2010

It seems that the internet is changing the internal structure of our brains making us more prone to surface skimming of information and less likely to do deep investigative reading. I remember back in college when the internet was far less exciting than it is now I would use it for email and not much more. Research and information came through books, magazines, and news papers. Now that has shifted dramatically and I have found my own powers of concentration affected.

The question of good and bad seems far less relevant to me than the question of useful or not useful. In an evolutionary feedback loop our brains are changing as the result of cultural developments and then culture in turn changes. Art that requires sustained viewing, think film, plays, musicals, dance, and so forth, have been shifting in style for decades towards a more visually active format.

It turns out that this evolution towards a fast visual style actually has a scientific name, 1/f. in jargon it is called pink noise. In the Wired article about how the internet is changing our brains, the analogy is given that we use the internet more like hunter-gatherers of information, following tracks and picking up little bits of information here and there. Pink noise, it turns out is more than just a formula for interesting visual effects, but can be found in “many features of our natural and artifactual surroundings. Track the pulsings of a quasar, the beatings of a heart, the flow of the tides, the bunchings and thinnings of traffic, or the gyrations of the stock market, and the data points will graph out as pink noise. Much recent evidence from reaction-time experiments suggests that we think, focus and refocus our minds, all at the speed of pink.”

Perhaps then the internet is not so much changing our minds away from a particular stage of evolution, but rather that technology has caught up with how our brains naturally think. Perhaps sustained concentration, while an interesting historical anomaly, is nothing more than that. We developed a technology, writing, which, until very recently, was forced to be linear. Now that it is non-linear, we are able to use our brains in a more natural state.

One thing I have noticed in myself is a lack of concern with memorization. Why expend a huge amount of effort memorizing facts when it can be recalled quickly through search?

As this relates to design, these new studies are quite interesting. Obviously there is a degree of sustained concentration that is necessary for lighting a show. We have a limited amount of tech time compressed into a few long days in which to work. If we are unable to concentrate for the duration of our ten out of twelves, we will never get the piece finished. But after that minimum ability, it looks like these effects are actually useful.

While stated within a pejorative context, the Wired article does mention that “[c]ertain cognitive skills are strengthened by our use of computers and the Net. These tend to involve more primitive mental functions, such as hand-eye coordination, reflex response, and the processing of visual cues.” The processing of visual cues is the meat of the lighting designer’s work. We are presented with a stage and have very little time until the next cue during which we must analyze the situation for any problems of composition, make the necessary changes, and record those changes. On a slow show we have a few minutes, but on a fast one like a musical, perhaps only a few seconds.

Combine this with the New York Times article on pink noise and a very interesting pattern emerges. The modulations in tempo which make for visually compelling work also have relatively short durations for any one visual, aural, or other piece of information. This ability to rapidly process visual cues has become built in to the very fabric of society from where we learn information through research (the internet) to where we go for relaxation from that work (film, plays, etc).

One need only compare the pacing of a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical to a Michael Bey film to see that there has been a fundamental shift in how we, as a culture and a people, process information. At a more basic level, look at the simple experience of navigating the streets of a 21st century city. We have many people we must avoid bumping into, traffic signs to pay attention to, cars and other vehicles to observe, signs to look out for in order to reach our destination. All of these visual things demanding our attention have sound cues associated with them as well. Then there is advertising, the random crazy person, birds and other small animals, our own chaotic thoughts, and more. In that context, the ability to rapidly process visual and other information is not some abstract effect of a new technology per se, but a necessary skill set to survive in our contemporary world.

Aesthetics and technology change in harmonious co-evolution. While the chicken or the egg discussion might be interesting to some, I find the simultaneous unfolding of human culture to be inherently interesting. I am less interested in whether one particular effect of culture is “good” or “bad” based on value structures which presuppose a culture fundamentally different than the one we live in. What I am interested in is how we relate to the culture we find ourselves in. As artists, how deeply can we tune into the cultural frequencies flying past us and manifest works of beauty which at once reflect and transcend that world.

We are by definition a product of culture. We are written by our culture. At the same time we are free agents who may act in predictable or unpredictable ways. Those actions further change culture in one or more ways. Like a kind of cultural butterfly effect we may never know until well after the fact which actions caused a profound rupture in the flow of history. So we must strive to do our best with the tools available to us and make the world into a more perfect vision.

We may become distracted and interrupted along the way, but perhaps those breaks will give us just the pause we need to make an unexpected leap from one piece of information to another. The butterfly flaps its wings and the membrane shivers.

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?

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.

Never Enough or A Short Discourse on Love

Sunday, August 24th, 2008

It seems that no matter what the scale of the project I am working on, there is never enough. This can be found in terms of time, equipment, budget or any manner of things. It does not matter what the show is, it seems, at some point it runs into this logistical wall, “oh if only we had one more . . .”

Beauty and the Beast is running into a problem of not enough equipment. The show is very large and while The Barter has a very nice lighting inventory there just is not quite enough for this show. There is more than enough to do a great job with the lighting and that is of course what I intend to do, but several things that I see very clearly in terms of how the show and certain numbers should work is just not possible.

It has been great working on this project and in many ways I see this as helping me return to writing in this space. I have been sitting on something of an artistic plateau. It has felt for some time that my work was holding still at a consistent quality and level of work. This is all fine and good as the product was quite high, but I became increasingly unsatisfied with myself because I felt I was not growing or forcing myself to stretch artistically. After a while that led to a decrease in my writing here.

With this project I can feel some of whatever it was sticking me in place begin to loosen. For one thing it is a children’s show and I find those always delightful to work on as there is a degree of freedom in them that I really enjoy. In addition to that, the show is very much not an “idea piece.” For me this is good and a stretch as I tend to intellectualize most projects and have my work live in the realm of ideas more than the viscerality of the work.

It is interesting that I have this restraint given the amount of dance work I do but so it is. With Beauty and the Beast I have really embraced the emotional world and the musicality of the piece. This may sound obvious given that it is a musical love story, but for one so cerebral and interested in minimalism as I am it is a big step.

A lot of this has been due to really embracing the power of love as a transformational device. That is the central idea in Beauty and the Beast and I have been looking at my own life and where I have seen that manifest. And it is true, the power of love can move mountains. It can transform someone so profoundly that aspects of self once considered fundamental to one’s way of being become mutable and new.

I have a new love in my life and even with the newness of this it has changed me in powerful and profound ways. Or more to the point it has given me an opportunity to grow more into the person I have been striving towards for the last several years. This transformation in my personal life is now finding its way into my artistic and professional life. Being open to love and to what it can give you is a powerful and terrifying thing. It requires the strong to be vulnerable and the vulnerable to be strong.

Embracing the power of love has opened up new ways of Being as well as new ways of thinking about this and other projects. It is a new world, and one I am happy to step into.


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