LD at Large

I work with a vast array of people in our business. I get along with everyone regardless of color, religion or sexual preference. I like to think that every project needs teamwork to get it done. I firmly believe that if my crew likes me, my show will be better. I may be a production designer, but I value everyone’s input. The lowest guy on the totem pole may sometimes have a great idea that I will incorporate into my show, so I listen. I try my best to avoid being a prima donna, and I believe I have succeeded in that.

Last month I once again dealt with some of my favorite, yet most feared, lighting fixtures. The dreaded Christmas lights. Sure, they look great once the darkness comes and they cast a glow over my snow-filled front yard. The view is fab when the wrapping paper clad presents are illuminated solely by the blinkety-blink emitted from the corner tree. But for some reason, getting there can be a comedy of errors.

I read a lot of interviews with production designers in our business. I listen to them at speaking engagements. I see their posts on social media sites. They remember to credit their programmers and production managers, but it just seems like they never mention the countless individuals whose input was necessary for their vision to ever reach fruition. Most designers are not engineers. That’s why we put those little waivers on our plots that say we accept no liability for the structural design or integrity of a project. We just had the design concept. But we all need a team to cover our butts.

I spent some time recently talking to the people who run a few different lighting companies. Being an LD myself, I don’t see the business through the same eyes these people do. I tend to pick on them to lower prices on older fixtures. I don’t look at the big picture, what it really takes to run a lighting company. Besides just purchasing new realms of sexy toys, one has to take into account all the other nuts and bolts; the non-sexy items that enable these fixtures to perform.

Fall is one of my favorite times. Because that’s when all the lighting manufacturers showcase their latest products. For me, it’s a chance to see what the coolest new toys are out there. For lighting vendors, I think they may see it another way. Kind of like a Catch-22. They get to see what’s out there, but then they have to make some serious decisions on whether or not to open their wallets.  People like me don’t make it easy on them.

Last month, I wrote about the benefits of working with some small lighting companies. But this article is dedicated to the shoddy lighting vendors out there. They will promise you the world and an abundance of fabulous gear. But as soon as you get to the gig, it doesn’t take long to realize some salesman/owner of a little company has bent you over a barrel. I’m like an elephant. I don’t forget these people.

It’s a good year for work. The usual constant stream of emails from friends looking for work has subsided. There is actually a shortage of board operators for tours this summer.  Lighting companies are running out of gear, but more important, running out of good techs. I walked in to a mega lighting shop last week and the first thing I was hit with was “Do you know any guys we can throw out on the road?”

This month finds me programming a rather cool show. It’s an Idol-type tour in which four contestants do their best to imitate Freddie Mercury while playing live with a Queen cover band. The “Queen Extravaganza” is an actual professional touring show conceptualized by founding Queen members. The show itself is quite different from any others I have done, as designer Rob Sinclair has a unique game plan and a simple set of rules that we must follow for the entire performance.

Over the last 10 years, the live entertainment business has been overrun with video panels. We have high res, low res, 6mm to 80mm, cubed-shaped and cylinder shaped — heck, they have video elements that roll up into a truss like your overhead garage door. I like to play with all of it. But the problem I notice is that, no matter how high your screen’s resolution, it never looks as good as a well-projected image.

It seems that every product you buy nowadays comes with a disclaimer. A little piece of paper shoved inside the box along with whatever product you purchased. This paper will list all the things that the product should not be used for or things it actually won’t do. It’s my theory that these pieces of paper are there to protect the manufacturer from liability for just about anything that could go wrong. No matter what, the last thing anybody hawking gear wishes to do is refund your cash. So if the item breaks, functions incorrectly, or causes any damage to anything or person in its vicinity, they want you to know, in advance, that it’s entirely your fault.

Last fall, I heard from my friend Missy. She manages the Chicago-based rockers “Rise Against.”  They had been on tour last year and were looking to revamp their look and wanted some ideas. Their production guru is Jon Dunleavy, a man I had gigged with before. I reached out to him to inquire what they were looking for. They had a few requirements they wished to base a design around. First and foremost, they were a punk band. They didn’t need a lot of hoopla. Just a few backdrops and some rock ‘n’ roll lighting. They had some set carts that they would carry around the world this year, and they wanted a lighting package that could attach to the carts. They also wanted some “light boxes” that could spell out the letters, “R-I-S-E.”

My wife was concerned that our three-year-old wants to spend all his time with the iPad. Then I mentioned that someone told me the first word spoken by his 18-month-old daughter most mornings is “iPad.” I don’t know right from wrong when it comes to kids and mobile devices. But I do know that if we are playing with a toy and I get an important business call, I can hand my child the iPad and he will stop whining immediately.