To illustrate just how elusive lighting design is, consider what three major lighting designers view as useful talents for their profession. Jennifer Tipton, a former dancer, says, "Dance taught me to see space. But anything that hones a sense of composition is helpful."
Adds Natasha Katz, "A feel for music is important. All lighting is based on rhythms—emotional and musical. But more important than anything is a frame of reference, to know something about Matisse, Janet Jackson, music videos."
Christopher Akerlind agrees, suggesting that lighting designers "should have a broad-based background: a fluency in literature and movies and arts and politics, as opposed to mastering the optics of lighting fixtures. Since theatre reflects the whole world, a lighting designer needs a set of tools beyond technology."
Brian MacDevitt talks about the "need for a good eye. Lighting designers should study painting and know what they like about a particular painting and how the mood and composition are revealed."
One thing is certain: Theatrical lighting is more complicated than focusing a spotlight on the face of the actor who is speaking. That may be the starting point, but there is so much more to lighting design—from creating the mood to setting the time of day to evoking the passage of time.
And then there are scene changes, those transitional moments that are often pivotal. "There are the thoughtful cross-fades, which take three to five seconds," says MacDevitt, "and then there are the jump cuts."
The effect of a jump cut may be deliberately shocking—a sudden, stark image designed to evoke uncertainty or fear. MacDevitt points to a scene in "The Pillowman," the production for which he won the 2005 Tony Award for best lighting design in a play:
"When we first go to the dark side of the room in the diorama, there's an abrupt flash of light. The audience sees—or thinks it sees—the parents holding the child down in bed, giving him electric shocks." It's an unsettling image, in part because of its suddenness: a jump cut.
"I got a lot of credit for other people's work," MacDevitt insists modestly. "But it was really the director and set designer's work. I needed craft for what I did, but I'm not sure there were that many ways to light that play."
By contrast, he feels his work on the Broadway production of "Love! Valour! Compassion!" was more impressive: "That play moved from scene to scene cinematically and I had to create whole spaces with light. Even though it was a realistic play, there was no time to bring in sets between scenes. So with one light square, for example, we were able to suggest a bed in a bedroom."
Akerlind, who also received a Tony this past June, for best lighting design in a musical for "The Light in the Piazza," is even further committed to the idea of lighting design as abstract art form. He uses such terms as "architectural" and "monochromatic" to define his aesthetic.
Akerlind, MacDevitt, Katz, and Tipton are all veteran lighting designers with dozens of credits—Broadway, Off-Broadway, and regional—and many awards. Tipton, who made her Broadway debut in 1969 with a revival of "Our Town," has been nominated for a Tony Award four times, winning twice—for "The Cherry Orchard" in 1977 and "Jerome Robbins' Broadway" in 1989. Natasha Katz has also garnered four Tony nominations; she walked off with one, in 2000 for her work in "Aida." She made her Broadway debut as a lighting designer in 1985 on Hugh Whitemore's play "Pack of Lies." MacDevitt has been tapped for the Tony five times, earning two—for "Into the Woods" in 2002 and the aforementioned "Pillowman." He launched his Broadway career in 1994 with Donald Margulies' short-lived comedy "What's Wrong With This Picture?" Akerlind premiered on Broadway in 1990 with August Wilson's "The Piano Lesson" and garnered his second Tony nomination (after "The Light in the Piazza") in 1996 for another Wilson play, "Seven Guitars."
The four lighting designers talk about the challenges they face on the job, their career paths, and the collaborative process.
Subliminal Experience
Most lighting designers are freelancers; they are hired on a per-project basis, even at some institutional theatres, although the latter may use the same designers frequently. In most instances, lighting designers are brought on board by directors or set designers with whom they have worked well in the past and with whom they share a common sensibility. The producer, of course, has the final say.
For more elaborate productions—Broadway musicals, for example—lighting designers may require an assistant or two, each of whom are brought in for the specific project and paid by the producer. Depending on the amount of time spent on any given production, a lighting designer may be juggling several projects simultaneously. A successful lighting designer may do 15 productions or more during the course of a year on Broadway, off Broadway, and at regional theatres.
Wherever they're working, lighting designers are collaborators. They collaborate with the director, set designer, and costume designer. The end result has to look like the creation of one set of eyes, not three.
The collaborative process begins immediately—weeks, if not months, before the actors come on board—with all the players discussing everything: What color will the sets and costumes be? How and when will scenery be moved on and off the stage and where will the actors be standing? What will they be doing? And, most central to the lighting designer, what role should the lighting play in evoking a mood?
Lighting designers hammer out the details on their drawing board and create light plots, indicating what lights will be used and how and when. At the tech rehearsal, lighting designers refine their efforts, taking the details of blocking into account. Once the show is up and running, they are generally no longer needed; the electricians take over.
Each show brings its own particular challenges. With "The Light in the Piazza," Akerlind recalls, "we wanted the city of Florence to be a character that resonated with the audience. At the same time, the city had to have a kind of dreamlike quality. This is a memory play."
Katz, who is currently working on "Lennon," the upcoming musical based on the life of John Lennon, says she faces a dual challenge in giving the piece a "visual emotional background. Lennon is from the world of rock 'n' roll. But we're telling a story about a man. The challenge is how far should we go with a rock 'n' roll lighting aesthetic—bright lights exposed—while telling the story of one man."
Katz describes one of the tricks of the trade: counterpoint lighting: "If someone on stage is sad, we can light the set in a sad, dreary way to reflect what the character is feeling. But we can also light the stage in warm, sunny lights. The contrast may ultimately make the character's sadness even sadder to the audience. I find that approach fascinating."
Like any other profession, lighting design has its share of conventions and clichés, explains Akerlind. "Pink is funny, blue is somber, and we're told to stay away from green. Tennessee Williams is frequently lit with warm, romantic colors. But I think at essence there is a brutality in what he's writing about: man's inhumanity to man. I suppose the warm romantic colors function as a counterpoint. I prefer a stark, intense lighting."
Akerlind uses color sparingly and eschews "decorative lighting" or "visual noise" that keeps the audience from "connecting with the actors." Among the four lighting designers, he is the most committed to a personal lighting aesthetic and gravitates towards those shows—experimental theatre, dance—where he can express his vision.
In smaller productions—for financial reasons, if no other—the lighting designer's work often takes the place of the set designer's. Sets are more expensive than lights. Lighting designers also have some latitude for self-expression in presentational one-person shows and, at the other end of the spectrum, colorful musicals.
Nonetheless, lighting designers, for the most part, maintain that their work should function on a subliminal level and not be self-conscious.
Lighting designers occasionally suffer from typecasting. They may become identified with one type of project and get hired repeatedly for similar productions. MacDevitt, for example, admits he'd love to design a flashy, lighthearted Broadway musical, but so far he has not had the chance. His next project is "The Color Purple," another musical with dark overtones.
No Place for a Lady
According to Cecilia Friederichs, a business representative for theatre at United Scenic Artists Local 829—the union overseeing lighting designers—there are approximately 927 union-affiliated lighting designers in New York, some of whom may also be scenic designers (although that's not common). Women now make up close to 50% of the union, she says. That was not always the case.
When lighting designer Tharon Musser, a megastar in the field and now retired, entered Yale's drama school in the late 1940s determined to be a theatre technician, she was told there was "no way we are going to be able to place a lady technician," Musser recalled when she talked with Back Stage some years ago. "I'm not asking you to place me," she responded. "Just train me and I'll find my own jobs."
And that's exactly what she did, becoming one of the top lighting designers in the country, along with such trailblazers as Abe Feder, Peggy Clark, and "the mother of us all, Jean Rosenthal, who turned lighting into an art form with her pastel palette," said Musser.
Coincidentally or not, as women entered the profession and it became a recognized art form, its goals and character changed. Lighting designers began to play a more sophisticated role in Broadway productions. In the early part of the century, according to Musser, stage lighting on Broadway was about visibility. Period. There were no shadings or variations, she said; lighting was bright, consistent, and two-dimensional. And it was part of the scenic designer's job. Often it was no more than electricians hanging and moving lights around, frequently at the star's request. (In 1986, at the age of 99, the legendary George Abbott, who was directing a production of "Damn Yankees" at Paper Mill Playhouse, was asked to name the most important change he had witnessed in the theatre during his long career. His reply: "Electric light.")
Perhaps few have done more than Musser to elevate Broadway lighting to the stature of an art form; in fact, she is responsible for establishing lighting design as a Tony category in 1970. As she remembered it, producer Chuck Bowden called and asked her to place an ad in the Tony Awards program: "In those days it was $500. And I said to him, 'How dare you ask me to take out an ad when you people don't even recognize us at the Tonys?' He was silent. A few days later, he called back and said, 'You're right. And you're nominated!' "
Musser won her first Tony in 1972 for Harold Prince's production of "Follies," followed by others for her work on Michael Bennett's "A Chorus Line" (1976) and "Dreamgirls" (1982).
An early, staunch supporter of the memory board (computerized lighting), Musser was responsible for introducing it to Broadway in 1975 with "A Chorus Line."
"The virtue of the memory board," she said, "is that you don't have to depend on some guy who may be drunk pulling levers every night—or worse, an electrician who decides to become imaginative on you. The last thing you want is an imaginative electrician. With the memory board, you have consistency and smoothness. You get the same show every night."
Nuts and Bolts
As the field has gained status and grown more complicated, it has also become more competitive. Today, many if not most lighting designers study the subject in college, earning undergraduate or graduate degrees at one of the better-known theatre programs, such as Yale, Carnegie Mellon, or NYU, says Don Padgett, a business representative for theatre, opera, and dance at United Scenic Artists Local 829.
And some of these graduates are able to join the union almost immediately, thanks to having designed the lighting for LORT (League of Resident Theatres) or summer stock productions as part of their school training or through an internship program. Others may need to take the time to roll up some credits on their résumés, which might make it possible for them to join the union. They may start as assistants to lighting designers, or they may work as "electricians—dealing with circuitry and the hanging of lights—at regional theatres and summer stock," Padgett notes.
The next step is lighting a show, and that's largely a matter of luck and networking: Someone has to give you the chance. Lighting designers are able to work in three LORT or commercial productions before joining the union. To gain union membership, the lighting designer has to present a portfolio of his work to a committee of experts convened by the union.
"We interview the candidate and review his portfolio," says Padgett. "We ask the designer to bring in photos of the productions he has lit from start to finish, including the initial drawings, the light plot, and the final production. It's a 45-minute presentation and we require letters of recommendation. But the most important thing to us is the person's work history.
"These admission tests are given four times a year and, on average, five candidates take it each time," Padgett continues. "Sometimes they all get in and on other occasions only one or two may be accepted. There is no limit to the number of times a candidate may take the test, although it costs $150 for each try."
Membership in the union is essential if one plans to make a living as a lighting designer. For a multi-set Broadway musical, for example, a union lighting designer will earn a minimum flat fee of $19,507 and a weekly salary of $325 starting at the first performance. For a single-set Broadway play, the minimum flat fee is $5,612 and the weekly salary is $250. Off-Broadway rates for musicals and plays are open to negotiation, explains Padgett. The more successful lighting designers—many of whom have agents to negotiate for them—might also earn a percentage of the show's profits in addition to their fees and not-so-base salaries.
Career Paths
None of the designers Back Stage talked with grew up dreaming about futures in theatrical lighting design and, consequently, their career trajectories varied. Tipton, for example, came to New York as a dancer. It was only later, while serving as a rehearsal mistress and "looking at the dancers from the audience and seeing the whole picture," that lighting design grabbed her. She took a course in the subject and launched her lighting career as an assistant to lighting designer Tom Skelton.
"I came in at the beginning of the field, before computer-generated lighting," she recalls. "I started by calling the lighting cues: 'Cue 10 one, go. Cue 9 one, go.' " The phrasing of the words and the rhythm of the lighting designer's voice was the guide for the electricians.
Tipton, who teaches lighting design at Yale, says she finds nothing objectionable to learning on the job, although she recognizes the usefulness of attending a theatre arts program in order to work with—and network with—one's future peers.
Akerlind, who was a graduate student of Tipton's at Yale, is the classic example of how being in the right school at the right time can open doors. As part of their training, students got the chance to design shows at Yale Repertory Theatre. One of two students studying lighting, Akerlind was tapped to design the lighting for August Wilson's "The Piano Lesson" when it was first produced there. "When the play moved on to the Huntington, Old Globe, Goodman, and then Broadway in 1990, I went with it."
Neither Katz's nor MacDevitt's career took off quite that meteorically. After earning a B.F.A. in lighting design from Purchase College, MacDevitt assisted his teacher, lighting designer Bill Mintzer, on a range of productions before striking out on his own at Off-Off-Broadway theatres and with contemporary dance groups.
"In the beginning I had to subsidize myself with other jobs," he admits. "I drove a moving truck and worked at fruit stands. It took me five years before I became a member of the union. The transition for me was working with Naked Angels, where I met Joe Mantello. We worked very well together on a number of projects and then collaborated on 'Love! Valour! Compassion!,' which began at Manhattan Theatre Club and then moved on to Broadway."
At Oberlin College, Katz discovered lighting while working in the school theatre: "I got an internship with Roger Morgan, who was lighting 'I Remember Mama,' starring Liv Ullmann. When I graduated from Oberlin, I assisted other designers. But I don't think you have to be an assistant right away. I learned by watching. And right now I have someone watching me work on 'Lennon.' "
Asked how they think the profession will evolve, the lighting designers all talk about increasingly advanced technology and with it greater artistry and the probability that lighting will become even more important.
"Lighting can do things that other disciplines can't," Katz says.
For more information, visit the website of United Scenic Artists Local 829 at www.usa829.org.