Posts Tagged ‘practical theory’

Freelancing and the Abundance Mentality

Friday, June 12th, 2009

I have been thinking a lot about how I relate to my Lighting Design work recently. I am talking not about the aesthetics of the work, but rather the business model I operate under. When I was in graduate school I took out a (relatively) small loan to supplement my scholarship. I did this as a means of using money to leverage my opportunities by making it possible to purchase the most up to date drafting technologies, seeing the latest plays, operas, dances and so forth. My education was greatly enriched by that opportunity I gave to myself.

Over time however, that leverage became a burden. Despite the fact that I kept diligently paying off the loans, my attitude towards them shifted over time. The benefits I had garnered from the money were still present in my work and experience, yet I saw the loans as a drag on my earning. Without the immediacy of the experience, the focus shifted to the debt incurred in that action. My mentality towards work, again speaking strictly at a business level, went from generating income to paying off debt. While paying off debts is a good thing, I found that having that be the focus of earning money limits potential.

When I relocated to the Bay Area over six months ago I reached out to all the designers and directors I knew to get a sense of the landscape. One designer in particular stood out. This person told me, in no uncertain terms that there was quite simply not enough work to go around. The subtext being, why don’t you go back where you came from and leave the scraps to the rest of us. His response bordered on outrage and was quite surprising. Because this was one of my first encounters with a designer out here, his perspective colored my vision and everywhere I looked I kept seeing that scarcity.

In fact, the scarcity mentality that this designer was operating under was very likely the cause of his not finding enough work to be satisfied. The scarcity mentality is very closely related to that same idea of working to pay off debt rather than working to build wealth. Not too long ago I came to the realization that this way of going about the world was not only unproductive, it was counter productive. By focusing on paying off debt and looking out with a scarcity mentality I was unconsciously limiting my potential market.

What I have found myself doing lately is shifting my perspective from a debt oriented view to a wealth oriented view. In short, a shift from a scarcity mentality to an abundance mentality. The economy may be way down, we know this, but people are still hiring. Companies are still producing and lights still need to be designed.

Greed is the logical outcome of the scarcity mentality. Or perhaps the scarcity mentality is a product of greed. It is a hoarding tendency born from the fear of not enough. Many people want to earn high incomes not because of a desire for a better life per se, but out of a fear of not having enough. This may seem like the same thing, yet in fact they are diametrically opposed points of view. Those who want to earn high incomes out of fear, tend to be laden with debt, broke at the end of the month, and constantly worried about how they will pay their bills, regardless of their income level. Those who embrace an abundance mentality tend to have more than enough for themselves to live the life they want.

What I am interested in and what I am speaking to here is expanding the pie. I am no longer interested in seeking out scarcity and eeking out an existence to pay off debt. Rather I am interested in generating value and wealth to raise the quality of life for the people around me. Be that through creating beauty, donating to charity or taking a friend out to dinner. The scarcity mentality has for too long held me and my loved ones back. From experience I know that embracing an abundance mindset is the first step towards generating true wealth. The days of scarcity are over.

Standing in the knowledge that there is enough work has in the past, and I am confident will in the future, create that reality. Our world is shaped by our perceptions and only through a fundamental structuring of our outlook towards abundance, comfort and peace of mind can we truly create those things for us and our loved ones in our lives.

Like Nothing Else

Saturday, February 28th, 2009

I have been reading far too much Post-Apocalyptic literature recently. Coupling that with a book about the life of a Samurai and it really gets one thinking about death. In the midst of tech for Of Mice and Men I had the thought “if I died tomorrow, would I be pleased with my life?” And suddenly my focus on the play shifted. I began thinking if this was the last show I ever lit, what would I think of it as my final creation.

Yes, rather morbid indeed.

The interesting thing about all that was my focus became so clear on the work before me it was amazing. It was a wholly unique experience. The finesse and craft and care that went into polishing those light cues surpassed anything I have done to date. I have no idea if, objectively, it is my best work. But from a subjective place it certainly is.

Would I be happy with this play if it were my last? Yes. Yes I would.

Watching my last preview here before I leave town, I was struck with something amazing. Here I am looking at what I consider some of my best work to date and suddenly I realize the work is not mine. Not mine in a teleological way. It is not for me. It is for the audience. I have created something for people who I most likely will never meet. Yes, this is obvious, and a regular part of my job. But what struck me was the profundity of that thought while watching the audience watch the play.

I was hit with what a gift this work is. Here we are making these little pieces of temporal art and we ask hardworking people to spend a not insignificant amount of their money to watch them. A captive audience to our little whims. But the work is not about us. The work is about giving a gift to these people, total strangers. The work is about creating a space wherein people can leave the daily struggle of their lives and get back in touch with their core humanity.

And unlike all other art, save music, the relationship between the work and the viewer is a communal one. There is talk of a “theatre community” but the real community is the temporary one created and uncreated every night between the time when the houselights dim and the final bow. This community shares a world of joy and sorrow and laughter. It is transported far away and returns. The same, yet changed.

Watching the audience laugh at Lenny’s antics was amazing. Watching that laughter grow increasingly uncomfortable as the end became more and more inevitable. Watching, as they filed out of the house in stunned silence, like mourners leaving a wake.

All I could think was, “What a gift!” What a wonderful gift we had given these people. A temporary moment of truly and deeply connecting with their humanity. Putting, if even for a moment, all their petty annoyances into a larger perspective. Bringing them face to face with their own mortality.

Perhaps tonight was an anomaly. Perhaps that intensity will never be recreated. But that is the true magic of the theatre. Those moments of intense human connection that by their very nature can not be recreated because they are a pact between the show and the audience. They are a pact of honesty. One party says, “I will be honest with you if you can honestly and openly receive what I have here to give.” The other party agrees.

That is the true magic of the theater. That is what makes it like no other experience. Because it is not about the ego of the performer or the literacy of the audience. It is about the willingness to suspend all those trappings of the ego and have a truly human experience. It is a reminder that we are spiritual beings having a human experience.

It is a reminder of what a truly wonderful gift that is.

Thoughtful accidents

Monday, January 21st, 2008

I have been corresponding with my friend Jeff recently about the implications of this post from a little while ago. He brought up a good argument that in light of how the post was written makes a lot of sense. Essentially his contention came with my use of the the word thought, or rather the necessity of “thinking” in art. His reading of my words came down to me espousing the pre-thinking of a work through to its conclusion without variance. In this sense I wholeheartedly agree with him.

Because, he points out, the accidental or the “mistake” is one of the greatest elements of the creative process. When a plan for a work is set in motion and some rupture or other occurs that breaks the flow and redirects the work into another direction the artist must be able to respond to this situation or the work begins to falter. Not only do I think this is good, I think it necessary. At the same time it means thinking through the whole meaning of a work such that when those moments arise, the challenge can be met.

Thinking need not be an abstract intellectual pursuit either. I use the word thinking in a broad sense here as a reasoned awareness towards the work. After all, I have been violently accused of being unthinking in the past because of my belief in the importance of action before theory. Becasue theory must be grounded in practice. The former derived from the latter.

One of my favorite artists is John Cage whose work centers around the unknown, the accident. His works allows for accidents to occur within a clearly designed and well thought out framework. In so doing he allows for random ruptures to occur, while at the same time intelligently thinking through the entirety of the work.

Randomness is something I not only enjoy but encourage in my own process. Although much of my training had to do with figuring through every detail of a design, I like to construct my light plots such that there is a lot of flexibility in them. During the process for any play some preconceived notion is going to fail. It just happens. That is the nature of the work itself. By allowing for sufficient movement within a predetermined structure, when these moments inevitably happen, they can be responded to quickly and intelligently rather than causing the entire process to break down.

Making space for the inevitability of accidents allows a work to grow in response to its environment. It makes the whole thing dynamic and expansive in a very necessary way. How these allowances are made and what happens when accidents arise necessitates a strong visionary thinking artist to best craft the situation to enhance the work as a whole.

Free to choose

Thursday, January 17th, 2008

I had coffee with my friend Mark yesterday and we had a great chat about what it takes to be a lighting designer. Mark was a year a head of me at NYU and it was good to sit down and be able to go through everything that is going on for me in relation to my current questions about design and being a designer. Largely, his thinking was very much in line with my own and it was comforting to know these questions I currently find myself asking are pretty much par for the course in this crazy freelance design world.

There is a certain narrative that was driven into us in grad school. Essentially that came down to one’s design work and the “being a designer” as a kind of existential statement upon ones self. One IS a designer. As if the very core being is that of a designer rather than design being an activity one engages in, an attribute ascribed to ones being.

We talked of practicalities, things like how to manage a fluctuating flexible income. But of more import was looking at our relation, as people, to the work that we do. A question one mentor of mine always asks is “What kind of life do you want?” There are many paths one can take with regard to being a designer, or not. How do you want to live? It is important to refocus the question upon one’s larger self and to maintain some degree of distance from the work. To not get so bound up in it that there is nothing but the work. In essence, one must live.

It is so easy to get bound up in the work to the point that this reflection never happens. But it is important to engage in it. To realize that the self and the work are two different things. That I could walk away from it and not suffer some existential loss. Rather it would just be change. And change can be good.

Doing projects because I want to rather than “need to” has been an important realization for me. It has an amazingly freeing quality to it. Taking on those projects that are interesting to me rather than everything that can fit into my calendar makes the whole process feel a lot more sane. Rediscovering for myself why I do lighting design and what I want out of life is a wonderful feeling. Rather than the sense that it is a closed statement, it now feels like an open question. So much can happen. And that is wonderful!

Quality Control and Photographic Integrity

Tuesday, January 15th, 2008

I just got a copy of the photographs from Lovers and Executioners that I lit this past fall in California. I am in the process of going through them and selecting the ones I want to post (There are a lot!). The shots were taken on the run-through before the first preview. We did a lot of work during that week of previews(six or seven shows all with extensive revisions) so the final lighting was quite different than that run.

Beyond that there are some interesting problems with the shoot. The photographer composed the shots to focus heavily on the foreground. While this was a major idea in the lighting it was not as extreme as it appears in the photographs. The scenery was not as dark relative to the actors at it looks in the shots. This issue is not quite as extensive as this one, but quite a bit more than I would like.

I have seen shots of my shows that look so different than the actual production that I have not posted them as I do not feel they are representative of my work. Sometimes this has been the case when the photographs make it look better! Its a matter of ethics. I would rather get work for what I did than what a photographer did. Still, those instances are representations of my work in the sense that the photographer captured the light I designed. But at some point artistic license shifts the ground of the artist upon whom the work lies.

Until I get these photographs processed, take a look at the preset once again. Isn’t it lovely?

Its called top chef not top cook

Thursday, November 15th, 2007

There is so much that one can take away from “Top Chef” and apply not only to lighting design but life in general. My favorite quote from the show is “At this point in the competition there is no reason you are not putting your best food on the table.” I was reminded of that quote last night talking to my programmer about an old show of mine. I was telling a story about a rather cheesy silly thing I had done once and commented that I have no shame about it. He said “There is no time for shame.”

Working in an artform with such strict deadlines like the theatre one has little to no time to second guess one’s decisions. Sure, changes can and should be made if the course of action is seen to be wrong, but more often than not one’s gut decision is the right one. Questioning decisions can be very problematic. More often, the best way of thinking is to look at a problematic situation and try and work out how to make it the best it can be. Largely this is a simple mind game, taking the pressure off “why is this wrong” and placing it towards “how can this scene/cue/transition be the best it possibly can.” Then again there are times when you just scrap everything and start over.

One of the things that has been a true delight working on Lovers and Executioners is my highly skilled lightboard programmer. He combines a depth of knowledge about the lighting console along with an alacrity in programming that makes my job incredibly easy. I do not have to think about every little programming detail, but rather can just say what I want to happen and he makes it so.

Its like the difference between a chef and a cook. Anyone can be taught to program a lightboard. It is a specialized computer and the job of the board operator is often like taking dictation. To bring light three to full intensity I say “3 at full.” There is a button for each of those [3] [at] [full]. Very simple.

But when working with moving lights it can get complicated as when the fixture can reposition while the intensity is off such that the next time it comes on it is where it wants to be rather than tracking across the stage at full intensity. The storm sequence that opens the play has a lot of lightning and wave effects, and rather than thinking meticulously about the programming and keystrokes I can simply say what I want and he makes it happen. The true benefit of all this is that I no longer have to think through all of that stuff but can free my attention to just lighting the play.

This is a wonderful freedom and one I rarely get to enjoy. Typically my knowledge of a lightboard is well beyond that of the programmer I am working with. As such I have to think through my every step in detail. Each time I have to think through HOW I am programming a cue I have less brainpower devoted to WHAT I am lighting.

Working with a programmer like the one I have here, I am able to produce a higher quality product faster than I ordinarily would. This is good for the director because she or he can see what I am going for earlier and we can get into deeper discussions about how the lighting for the play should work earlier in the tech process. This is good for me for largely the same reason, I can take that initial gut feeling and go with it full force to completion. Then I have the time to look at it, see if it works and reevaluate as needed.

We have a curious difficulty with Lovers and Executioners. All the actors are wearing large brimmed hats. This is difficult because it means to clearly light their faces, the lighting must come from head height or below in order to get underneath the hats themselves. This alone is not difficult. I have several systems of light all specifically to do this in addition to the higher angled lighting that works more environmentally. The problem resides in the fact that using these lights to light the actors faces does not feel totally right to me within the style of the piece.

But now that I have taken my initial idea as far as it can go(through balancing these different ideas of light) I must now rework it. I must change the aesthetic criteria under which I was evaluating the lighting and move on to a new and different way of thinking. More specifically a different way of seeing.

And that is the tech process. Try something, see what works and change what does not work. Every show does this, some more than others.

The very fortunate thing about this process is that I have a highly capable(and fast) programmer, so making these changes should come rather quickly.

First paid audience is tonight. I am looking forward to seeing how they react.

Let’s get some focus in that focus

Thursday, November 8th, 2007

One of the most important aspects to lighting design is the focus of the lights. This is where the designer, with the help of a team of electricians, point the lights where they are needed to go. Prior to the designer’s arrival, the electricians have taken the lightplot(drawn by the designer) and hung the lights where specified, assigned proper control channels etc.

At focus the designer takes a total mess of lighting equipment and sorts it into useable order. A big splotchy sequence of control channels gets organized into an elegant system of sidelight, and so on. I have seen poorly focused systems of light be tweaked just slightly and the effect can be an almost 50% increase in brightness, not to mention allowing for more proper control. All of this is to facilitate putting light where it needs to go and taking it away from where it shouldn’t be.

The lighting designer can not begin to compose the looks for the show until the focus is complete, just as the painter can not begin work until the canvass is stretched and the palette is organized. Focus requires deep concentration. As each light is focused it must be kept in relation to all the other lights in the plot to make sure they all work together the way they are intended. Further, the designer often makes changes based upon the evolution of things in the rehearsal hall or new ideas that have come up since the plot was drafted.

In order that this concentration be maintained, a rhythm must be established. Often the designer will be focusing a light with one electrician while others are getting into place to focus the next set of lights. This keeps the designer moving from place to place without a break. This is good. As a rule of thumb a designer should average about two minutes per light. I tend to work at about a minute and a half a light when the rhythm really gets established and things get going.

Focus is an interesting part of the lighting design process. It requires that the designer and the person running focus(either an assistant or the master electrician) have a good sense of detail work and specificity AND an overview of the whole situation. For the designer this means keeping the specific light being worked on in relation to all the other lights and how they will work over the course of the entire show. For the person calling focus it means keeping the designer and electricians moving around the space such that everything gets done in an efficient manner.

We are nearly done with the focus for Lovers and Executioners. A few special lights and scenery accents that need to be completed but the bulk of the work is done. The set appears to be taking light very well and it will be nice to start writing light cues. I am very excited to see how the costumes react under the light. I think they will look quite lovely. It is always a pleasure for me to see these elements come together. The things we talk about together in meetings but work on separately all come together into one greater whole.

I think this show will be a lot of fun.

Where it should be

Saturday, October 6th, 2007

One of the first “rules” of lighting design I remember is that it is about “putting light where it should be and taking it away from where it shouldn’t” Seems fairly obvious, but its a problem that, like many simple things, has a great deal of depth to it.

What does it mean to “Put light where it should be?” Clearly the first aspect of this is to light the performers on stage. But these performers exist within some context, they are in an environment, so the environment must be lit. Sometimes this is as simple as lighting scenery, other times it has to do with more subtle things like toning and sculpting their bodies in a certain way.

Taking light away, is also not so clear cut. Sure, sometimes you just need to turn all the lights off on half the stage, but more often the work is much more subtle. It is about illuminating parts of the stage in such a way that while the performers are visible, they are not the focus.

Ultimately, lighting is about focus. Just like a photographer or cinematographer, the work is on focus and depth of field. Often the whole stage must be lit, in some way, but certain areas must have focus over others, and then all that shifts.

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Like cinematography, it is a form that only truly exists in time. As the work changes emotionally and dramatically, so too must the light shift and change to the myriad demands of the stage.

Missed Connections

Sunday, September 30th, 2007

The best thing about freelancing is the flexibility it affords my schedule. If I want to take a vacation there is no boss I need to check in with, no “vacation time” I need to contend with, etc.

It is also the worst aspect of the job.

When projects pile up one on top of the other it can be difficult if not impossible to get them all sorted out. I find myself at times with several people all wanting to put up shows the same week and then the week after is empty. Just part of the job.

The other day I was asked to participate in a forum for emerging designers to showcase their work. It sounded like a really great opportunity and an interesting event. Trouble is, I will be working out of town. Still, being asked is always nice.

This also has a tendency to filter over into my personal life. Scheduling time with friends can be quite difficult. If they also freelance in the theatre their schedules tend to be as crazy as mine. If they don’t then they often only have these things called “weekends” during which to do socializing. Sunday nights are no good because they go off to work the next day, while I often have the day free.

There was an interesting New York TImes article about this and more a while back. The world of the theatre operates on such a different schedule then the rest of the world and one is often so busy you forget what normal people do with their time.

i sometimes wonder what my life would have looked like had I followed that political science/philosophy track rather than devoting myself to my lighting design. There are no regrets, its just curious to me that in life you can not try two different paths. You have your path, you walk it and it leads you where it does. There is no going back. One might change course but never return to the same place.

But it s a curious thought, what if I had taken that project instead of the other one? What were the choices that led me here to Virginia to light Driving Miss Daisy and where else might I be had I made even one small choice differently?

In the best possible way

Sunday, September 23rd, 2007

The Barter Theater is a community theatre in the best possible meaning of the term. It is a fully professional Regional Theatre that produces a wide range of programming specifically for the surrounding community that is its audience. A number of the plays, like the Dracula we open tonight, are adapted to locate them around community issues. This version is set in America in the 1920′s, specifically the Virginia Highlands where Abingdon resides.

The actors and other staff all live in and interact with the community and several are natives of the area. There is a saying that “All theatre is local” and while there are a number of exceptions, this organization certainly proves the rule.

Coming in from out of town to do these shows might, to some, appear to break that idea of serving the community, but I feel it enlarges it. Community is not solely bound by geographical locations. In our contemporary world where distance becomes increasingly mitigated by technologies like the internet fostering cross cultural pollination of ideas, creating works that are inherently part of that larger cultural dialog are vitally important.

And in a way it certainly fits the specifics of this play. The action centers around a foreigner from another country who “can control the weather and shift forms at will.” This is light.

Light is not just illumination. It is the weather, the progression of the day, the moon and the stars. It is the atmosphere that surrounds action and binds disparate activities together. In a world where that atmosphere is controlled by a person of foreign origin how perfect to for the light to be designed by someone from far away.

If all theatre is local, I believe it is equally true that it is about outsiders. True action can only exist when the status quo is out of balance. Without an inequality between the current state of things and ones desire for change there is no reason to act. If we become hungry our desire for food causes us to go and eat.

Theatre is about action.

As such the world must be unbalanced, out of alignment. Almost any play, and this applies to movies and other performance as well, begins with a world out of balance. A crazy king losing the throne, an ancient kingdom beset by plague, a young woman sick with a mysterious illness.

The action of the play is then to right that imbalance, or perhaps, to change the surrounding context such that the world balances along a new axis.

This can only be done by the outsider. The one out of balance, out of harmony, with the surrounding world. Henry V can only lead his country to victory because he was the debaucherous youth. The action of the play can only be portrayed by the crazy people who inhabit the world of the theatre.

A world set apart.

Like Halloween or Carnival, a person dons the clothing of another and for some span of time, rejects their own ego to inhabit the life of someone else. Worlds are created within, but apart from the surrounding world. A Temporary Autonomous Zone.

Even at a practical level our world exists apart from much the rest of the world. We go to work such that others can come for recreation. We rest on the day when most return to work. We live in fantasy and create new possibilities out of language, cloth, wood and light.

Part of, but apart from, the world. In the community but perhaps not of the community.


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