Category Archives: Lighting Strategies

Hints and notions about illumination for stages in small venues.

Nobody’s Too Important To Haul Gear

If there isn’t a dedicated “truck load/ unload” crew, YOU are that crew.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Yes,

It IS your job to help the musicians load their gear in and out.

No,

You do NOT get an exemption because you’re running FOH sound or the lighting computer.

If ya ain’t pushin’ buttons and faders, you can push some boxes. It won’t kill ya, and you’ll help make the show more successful.

Which definitely is your job.


Two Sides Of The Same Coin

A Small Venue Survivalist Saturday Suggestion

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Everything that happens at load-in is the foundation for how load-out will go. The reverse is also true.

Consider the implications of this carefully.


More Is More…And More Of Everything Connected To That More

A Small Venue Survivalist Saturday Suggestion

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

The guy with the most toys…

…has the longest load-in.

And load-out, but one thing at a time, okay?


Holding Onto Manure Makes Your Hands Stink

A Small Venue Survivalist Saturday Suggestion

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Unreliable people and unreliable gear are worse than no people and no gear.


Fixing The Wrong Thing

Cleverness is only helpful if it’s applied to the right problem.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Back in October, I ran a fog machine “dry” by fixing it’s remote switch. Not directly, you understand. In an effective sense.

Here’s the story:

I switched over to an actual, honest-to-goodness continuous hazer after my old unit refused to unclog. I still had juice for the old hazer, though, and I didn’t want to just toss it out. I discovered that we had an old fogger that still worked, and the leftover haze juice was water based – thus, it would be (mostly) compatible with the fogger. I decided to take the new hazer out of service for long enough to burn off the old haze fluid.

I rigged up an extension to the fogger’s remote so that I could drive the output from FOH (Front Of House). In the process of making my extension work, I discovered that something was amiss in the remote’s switch wiring. I did some light pulling and finagling, and a proper connection was re-established.

Groovy. (Yes, that’s a shout out to “Army of Darkness,” even though you couldn’t tell.)

The fogger went back into service in time for a two-band show. The opener ended up pushing their downbeat time back about 30 – 45 minutes, but I wanted to establish some atmosphere (literally and figuratively) while we waited.

So, I hit the “Fog” button, and nothing happened. I figured that the button wiring had gotten tweaked again, so I pushed and pulled on the remote’s strain relief…hey, look! Fog! Nice.

The fog unit vented its output into a fan, and I got a pretty-okay haze effect out of the whole shebang. The hang-time on the haze wasn’t very long, though, so the stage ended up clearing in only a few minutes.

I kept hitting the button.

We got through most of the first act’s set, when I suddenly didn’t get fog anymore.

“Freakin’ button.” I thought. “I’m going to just open up the unit and twist the conductors together. It won’t be as nice as having the button, but I can still yank the extension connection if the haze gets out of control.”

And that’s exactly what I did. As the first band was getting their gear off the deck, I was unscrewing the cover on the remote and shorting the wires that would otherwise be connected to different poles on the “Fog” switch. Satisfied that I had performed a nifty little bit of “rock and roll” surgery, I got set for the main act.

The band’s first set got rolling, and I connected my remote.

No fog.

“The connection at the machine end must be bad. Oh well, I’ll fix that later.”

When I finally got up on deck and took a look at the fog machine, I realized what the problem actually was: In the process of keeping the venue hazy during walk-in and the opener, I had run the (rather small) fog tank completely dry. The remote wasn’t the problem at all.

Seriously, if the fogger had been a car, I would have just tried to fix the issue of not having any gas by tearing down and rebuilding the steering column. Whoops.

If Fixing A Problem Doesn’t Fix THE Problem, You’ve Fixed The Wrong Problem

I had just been bitten by what some folks call “The Rusty Halo Effect.” A rusty halo is a sort of mental designation that we humans give to things that have caused us trouble in the past. If a person, piece of gear, venue, component, or really anything has been a point of failure before, we tend to assume that the same thing will be the point of failure again. This can actually be quite helpful, because we can build and maintain an internal list of “bits to check if you’re having problems.” Being good with the list can make you look like a fix-it ninja…

…but assuming that your list is complete can cause you to miss different causes for similar problems.

I’ll go so far as to say that most of my really embarrassing audio problems in the last few years have been due to “Fixing The Wrong Thing,” or “Misdiagnosing The Problem.” Not so long ago, I was soundchecking a drummer who wanted a lot of the kit in the drumfill. We were getting everything dialed up, and I had taken a stab at getting some levels set on the sends from the drum mics. We started to really work on the kick sound, and when we got it to the right point we also found the point where feedback became a problem.

“I’ll just notch that out,” I thought. I got into the kick mic EQ for monitor world, and starting sweeping a narrow-ish filter around the area of the big, low-frequency ring we were dealing with. Strangely, I couldn’t find the point where the filter killed the feedback.

I muted the kick mic. The feedback slowly died. Much more slowly than I would normally have expected.

This is what tipped me off to me having tried to fix the wrong problem. If a single channel is, overwhelmingly, the culprit in a feedback situation, then muting that channel should kill the feedback almost instantaneously. If that’s not the case, then you’ve muted the wrong channel.

The real problem was one of the tom mics. It was perfectly stable as long as no low-frequency acoustic energy was present, but when the drummer hit the kick there was a LOT of LF energy introduced into the tom mic, the actual tom itself, and the drumfill. All that together created an acoustical circuit that rang, and rang, and rang…right up until I muted the offending tom mic.

Silence.

I killed the appropriate frequency in the tom mic, and we were all happy campers.

So – what can be generalized from these two stories? Well:

For troubleshooting, try to maintain a skillset that includes rapid isolation of problem areas. If a suspected problem area is isolated and removed from the involved system, and the problem persists, then the problem area is actually elsewhere.

Corollary: It is very important that you strive to know EXACTLY how the individual parts of your system connect and communicate with each other.

In other words: Try not to fix the wrong thing.


Five S Festival

If you want to put on a festival, put at least as much effort into the logistics as you do the actual show.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

It’s true that I’ve never put on a full festival by myself. I’ve been involved in a couple of small ones at some level, but I haven’t been the top dog. It’s only fair to say that.

On the other hand, though, I HAVE been the top dog at a small venue. That, and hearing about various festival problems, is what informs most of my opinions on what it means to do a festival well. While that might seem a bit odd to say, I think that experience running a “fixed” venue holds up in a festival setting – mostly because of these two, central ideas:

The stage production at a music venue is not, by itself, the most important part of the venue’s operation.

When you are putting on a festival, you are creating a temporary music venue.

I’m serious.

It’s not that the stage production isn’t important. It is important. Very important. Critically important. However, you can have a killer stage and still have a terrible venue. The trouble is that I think a lot of folks have this notion that, “All we have to do is make the show amazingly cool.”

Yes, the show does have to be amazingly cool, but that’s not enough – not by a longshot.

This reality is displayed in an entry I found at lolmythesis. At lolmythesis, academic works are boiled down to a single, humorous sentence. The entry I’m talking about is related to a Marketing thesis done for The University of Gloucestershire: “Don’t let your festival flood. People don’t like it all that much.”

The festival in question might have had great staging. It might have had great acts – but the organizers got a major piece of the logistics wrong, and that’s what stuck in people’s minds.

When it comes down to it, I think that creating a temporary, festival venue or a permanent venue both come down to “The Five S’s.” All five of these issues have to be addressed well, or people won’t be happy:

Safety, Security, Sanitation, Scheduling, Staging

Yes, staging is in there, but notice how it’s just one piece of the puzzle.

Safety

Nothing wrecks a festival like people having their property damaged, or becoming injured themselves. Festivals have even been places where folks – folks who were just out to see their favorite band – have been killed.

Not a good scene.

There are a lot of questions about safety that have to be asked and addressed. Here are just a few:

  • How are you going to properly supply and earth the power for both the stage and the attendees?
  • How are you going to ensure that your temporary structures are built correctly?
  • How will your temporary structures (especially the stage and roof) handle a severe weather event?
  • How are the temporary structures going to be secured so that they CAN ride out a severe weather event?
  • How are you going to monitor incoming weather in realtime?
  • How are you going to get everyone to safety in case of severe weather or other emergency? How long will it take?
  • Is the festival site, in and of itself, dangerous in heavy rain? Subject to dangerous heat and/ or cold? A bad place to be during an electrical storm?
  • If someone has a medical problem (and they will), how are they going to be cared for?

Security

In a lot of ways, security is a part of safety. In this case, the distinction arises from safety being protecting humans against threats from the natural and built-up environment, whereas security is protecting humans from each other.

Some of the possible issues are:

  • How are you going to demarcate and patrol the various external and internal perimeters at the festival?
  • How are you going to make sure that people who aren’t supposed to get in stay out?
  • How are you going to handle folks who are unintentionally causing trouble?
  • How are you going to handle folks who are willfully being jerks?
  • How are you going to prevent people from bringing dangerous items into the festival?
  • How are you going to ensure that your security personnel aren’t just a bunch of bullies with extra authority?
  • How are you going to set up and light various areas to discourage illegal drug use, drinking, assaults, and so on?

Sanitation

This point is easy to describe, but not necessarily easy to do well. Everybody at your festival is going to have to urinate, defecate, and toss out other forms of refuse. How are you going to ensure that they can do so easily, comfortably, and appropriately?

Also, when it’s all over, how are you going to deal with the inevitable litter and site impacts?

Scheduling

Here’s another point that seems simple, but is easy to screw up. It’s easy to screw up because the temptation to allocate as little time as possible to “boring” activities is very high. As an overall precaution, I recommend giving yourself a BIG time-buffer in which to execute everything – say, by allowing for everything to take 1.5 to 2 times longer than you think it should. Beyond that, you can consider:

  • How much time do you need to get the ENTIRE festival set up and ready?
  • How much time do you need to get the ENTIRE festival torn down and cleaned up?
  • When will event staff arrive and leave?
  • When will bands arrive and leave?
  • When will patrons arrive and leave?
  • How long will it take to handle onstage changeovers? (Hint: 15 minutes between bands probably isn’t long enough.)
  • How long will each band play?
  • When there is a weather/ safety/ technical/ transport delay, or a band goes over their allotted time, how are you going to manage the impact on the rest of the schedule? (This is going to happen. Be ready.)
  • How are you going to handle your production staff? Remember, they have to eat, pee, and poop, just like everyone else.
  • You are going to have a stage-manager and assistant stage-manager, separate from the audio and lighting techs, right? Right? (Hint: The answer should be in the affirmative.)

Staging

Like I said before, this bit really is important. Staging can also be the really fun part of the whole process, because it’s an area where artistic sense and creativity come to the front of the line. Again, though, you need to realize that focusing on staging and forgetting about the other considerations above is a recipe for “all sortsa badness.” Once all your other ducks are in a row, then you can dive into thinking about:

  • How much stage area do you think you need? How much do you actually need?
  • Does the stage remain fun to look at and be on when the sun is rising? How about when the sun is setting?
  • Can the bands get their gear-hauling vehicles close to the backstage area?
  • Is there enough backstage area for at least one band to get ready while another is playing?
  • How much PA do you think you need? How much do you actually need?
  • How will the PA be deployed to get proper coverage? (Using delay towers, rather than just being really loud, is a good thing to consider if you have to “throw” a long way.)
  • How will you deploy the PA so that people who want to get away from it actually can get away?
  • How much lighting gear do you think you need? How much do you actually need?
  • Are you ready to deal with the whole issue of the lighting rig being (probably) worthless while the sun is still up (if you’re outside)?
  • Where are you going to put FOH (Front Of House) control so that audio and lighting can do their jobs effectively?
  • How are you going to keep your FOH cable runs from being trampled/ cut/ tampered with/ otherwise messed up?

None of these lists of questions is complete, but I think they’re a good start. Do a good job in all five areas, and you’ve got a shot at a good festival. Cut corners, and…well…good luck with that. Hopefully you won’t be on the news for the wrong reasons.


Electrum

The alloy of art and money is best made “up front.”

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

There’s an attitude in the music world – one of many – and it’s a bad attitude. Unhelpful. Works against the very people who have it.

I’ve been guilty of it.

It’s the attitude that art is a beautiful, pure, self-creating and self-sustaining thing, and that money is an evil, dirty, crass creature that should never touch art. It’s an attitude that’s rooted in a kernel of truth: When the reins are taken by the folks who are fascinated with the business side as an end in itself, then art tends to suffer. The industry becomes a caricature of itself. When music becomes just another manufacturing process, driven by very little more than just growing from quarter to quarter, then the chances of making something amazing tend to drop.

The problem with giving the kernel of truth more than its due is that you have to start denying reality. Writing, performing, or technically supporting music is an occupation for humans. Humans engage in occupations to find meaning in their lives and create things of value. We create things of value in the hopes that we can exchange those things for things we need more of. Like, you know, food. And places to sleep. And sweet amps, and awesome guitars, and cool drumkits, and PA systems that can rattle every building in a one-mile radius WOOOOOO!!!! ARE YOU READY TO ROCK, TOQUERVILLE?

Toquerville is a small town in Utah, by the way.

Where was I?

As near as I can tell, being a professional musician (or music support human) is about creating a brilliant alloy of art and business. It’s about mixing these two materials that are precious for different reasons, so as to make a whole that serves a useful purpose. If you want to view art as “silver” and business as “gold” (or the inverse), then the alloy you’re talking about is electrum.

Hence the post title.

The way this analogy shakes out is that, if you want to work with an alloy, you’re best served by making the alloy as the first step in the process of crafting something. If you want to be a professional music human, you will do well to be conscious of the business side at the inception of your career crafting the artistic side. If you aren’t, then you’ll have to tack the business side on later, and that’s not always the best thing.

Plated Versus Solid

The thing with alloyed metal is that it’s really hard to make after you’ve already built something. If you want to add gold to an already-made silver item, then you’re pretty much stuck with plating the gold onto the surface of the object. To actually mix the two metals, you’re probably going to have to wreck the structure of the thing that’s been made, and start again.

In the same way, starting a musical endeavor that’s “pure silver” (all art, no business) is perfectly doable. You can make some amazing tunes, and have some great times. You can ignore the money, or even reject the business side entirely. That’s all fine and good if it’s what you actually intend to do. It’s not so fine and good if you get the idea that the business side will just magically “work out.”

It probably won’t.

What’s more likely to happen is that you’ll quit when you can’t afford the time, money, or both required to make more art. If your art appeals to a great many people, then you may end up getting taken for a ride by managers/ labels/ club owners/ whoever that really know how to bend the business aspect to their will. In the best case scenario, someone will figure out a way to do a nice job adding a practical business to an artistic substrate. “Plating” the business onto the surface of a “pure art” base is doable – and can even be done well – but it’s still just a foreign thing that’s sitting atop something else.

On the other hand, if you decide from day one that you’re going to be realistic about the business side, you retain a lot of control. You know where the money is, and where it isn’t. You can take charge of career decisions in a rational way, because you’ll have factually-supported notions of what would be fun (but expensive), less fun (but good for some cash flow right now), and freakin’ awesome (and likely to generate a ton of income). When you integrate a seriousness – not an overriding obsession, just seriousness – about the business side, and do it right away, then you’ve just given yourself an edge. You’re not just claiming to be a pro, you’re taking the steps to ensure that you are a pro.

Business can wreck things, it’s true. However, it’s far less likely to wreck things and corrupt the art if it’s integrated and well understood from day one. That’s because you, the art person, are in charge of it. You’re much more likely to have trouble with business if you don’t have any understanding of it, and then try to bring a not-very-artistic business human on board to run things that are already out of control.

If you want to craft with electrum, make the alloy before you’ve already built everything.


Out Of Lighting Ideas? Go Look At Art.

Artwork and photos can give you great ideas for your light show.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

I have an inordinate love for sci-fi concept art. It’s embarrassing, in a way. Drive me over to a gallery full of “serious” paintings, and I’ll be bored in about 20 minutes. Let me load up an online collection of spaceships, planets, and giant robots, and I’ll be there ALL FREAKIN’ DAY.

I think I like the art I like because the practitioners are great with making things dramatic. Huge scale. Great use of contrast. Exciting color schemes.

You know, all the stuff that makes a light design stand the test of time.

I think that it’s easy to fall into a couple of thought traps:

1: An exciting light show means a light show that’s moving all the time.

2: Stage lighting is somehow removed from other artistic disciplines.

Neither of those two points is true.

Every Picture Has A “Light Cue”

Take a look at this piece of art:


Overwhelming Thunder by *LordDoomhammer on deviantART

Is it animated? No. Is it exciting? You bet!

There’s a lot of light in the piece, but there’s plenty of shade, too. There’s also this great interplay between cool color (the blue engines and missile trails) and warm tones (the reds and golds in the background). The saturated colors “shout” at you, and yet the whole thing stays balanced. There’s detail in the piece, but it doesn’t become a chaotic barrage of information.

So – there’s the first point. Animated light cues are neat, and have their place, but you can set a very dramatic scene by bringing the lights up and leaving them alone for a song or two. You just have to do a bit of work to create a look that invites attention without being annoying or “busy.”

The second point is also in play. It’s tempting to pass off the picture as being unrelated to anything else. It’s easy to do that.

But…can’t you see the rock show that’s going on in that picture? Just for a minute, pretend that you’re not looking at spaceships. Pretend that there’s a drum riser in the background, guitar and bass players in the midground, and a singer up front. The song is a “middle piece” in a set that’s a little darker and mellower than their other tunes. Call that up in your mind.

See?

The drummer is highlighted by the warm colors. Golden hues are reflecting off the cymbals and stands. The faces of the mid and downstage band members are visible, but shaded. Strong, pale-orange colors from side and top fixtures provide rim-lighting that accentuates the movement of the band. Piercing, yet saturated beams of blue lance out through the fog and haze.

That’s a rock show, right?

The thing is, a little bit of deconstruction can net you a tremendous stack of ideas to use when designing a light show. Because all visual art is a representation of light (when you get down to it), all you’ve got to do is take the time to ask yourself, “How would this look in the context of a live performance?”

It’s not all about direct mimicry, either. For instance, I usually use more front light than this piece, but I can definitely get some notions from it in regards to an overall color scheme. Yellows, whites, and reds seem like they’d be good for a high-energy tune.


Rebel Medium Frigate by *MotoTsume on deviantART

…and, if I need some general pointers on how to get greens and deep oranges to work together, I can spend some time looking at this picture:


Ceahlau – Durau 89 by ~cipriany on deviantART

Art will speak volumes about lighting rock shows, if you just let it. I’m not a “classically trained” lighting tech/ designer/ whatever, so how do you think I get ideas like using a warm key light with cool accents?


Pleasant Company by *LordDoomhammer on deviantART

If making your light show interesting has got you stumped, just go cruising around an art site for a while. If you’re willing to do a little thinking, you won’t be stumped for long.


The Foggiest Idea

Haze and fog are similar, but they’re really meant for different applications.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Yeah, so, I’ve been completely ignoring the lighting categories on this site.

Sorry about that.

I guess that I don’t think as deeply about lighting as I do about audio, which is kind of a shame. Lighting is a tremendously fun art and science of its own, and I really enjoy it. I guess that, when compared with audio, I handle the lighting end of things “on autopilot” a lot of the time.

Stage lighting deserves more than that, though. It’s a crucial component of giving an audience what Cliff Bleszinski would call “The Fun.” Part of bringing “The Fun” with (and to) a light rig is to use atmospheric effects – you know, fog and haze. If you’re just starting out, though, it may not exactly be clear that’s there’s a distinction between fog and haze.

HA! Not exactly CLEAR! We’re talking about atmospheric effects and I said that things might not be clear! BaHAHAhaHAHha *snerk* HA *cough*.

I’m WITTY.

Anyway.

Fog and haze aren’t technically the same thing. You can sometimes substitute fog for haze, but going in the other direction isn’t really possible.

Here’s why.

Distribution

In my experience, the fundamental difference between fog and haze is that of their distribution through the room. Yes, the respective chemical compositions of different “fuels” for these effects may differ, and that difference may be profound. However, whatever it is that makes up fog or haze fluid is not always the primary determinant of what you’re going to get.

As a case in point, consider a particular hazer that I own. This hazer uses a water-based fluid that passes through a heating block. The heating block transfers thermal energy to the fluid, and the fluid then vaporizes. The vapor is then propelled away from the unit by an integrated fan.

If you shut the fan off, you have a fogger.

Sure, the fogger has a special talent. It can run continuously without a reheat cycle, which is neat, but it’s still just a fogger with a fan. The fluid formulation might be just different enough to affect hang-time and vaporization characteristics, but it’s still basically fog fluid. In this particular case, you can put the “fuel” in a regular fogger and the machine will, you know, fog.

Fog and haze fluids are NOT always interchangeable in this way. Putting the wrong juice in an atmospheric effects unit can wreck the machine, cause you to get serious burns, start a fire, cause the fluid to break down into dangerous chemicals, and just generally screw up your day. If you experiment, experiment wisely – and at your own risk. DON’T BLAME ME IF YOU RUIN YOUR LIFE.

Okay.

So, what kind of distribution makes fog, and what kind of distribution makes haze?

Fog is characterized by a distribution that is non-uniform and chaotic for a large percentage of the effect’s “hang time.” Haze is characterized by a distribution that is much more uniform and stable throughout it’s entire hang time.

What this means is that fog, as a general rule, tends to be generated as a clumpy cloud that visibly wisps and swirls with air currents. In the room, the density of the cloud can vary greatly from one point in space to the next. As the fog disperses, the cloud’s “point to point” density becomes more and more uniform.

In contrast, haze is generated specifically to be as uniformly distributed as possible. Any “cloud” characteristics should smooth out as quickly as possible – ideally, before the audience notices anything. Further, interaction with air currents should be as minimally visible as possible. As the haze dissipates, its distribution throughout the room should remain uniform. (In other words, the overall haze density in the room should be essentially the same everywhere, with the density dropping at the same rate at all physical points.)

The reason that you can use fog for haze, but not the reverse, is because non-uniform atmospheric effects naturally become uniform over time. On the flipside, atmospheric effects that start out with a very even distribution won’t get clumpy without a lot of work. It’s a one way street where you can start at the “fog” end and arrive at haze, but you can’t travel in the other direction.

Application

The distribution characteristics that I outlined above are what make fog and haze appropriate for different applications.

In general, fog is a relatively short-lived effect that is meant to be visible in and of itself. Haze, on the other hand, is meant to be a long-lived effect that is, itself, invisible.

Fog is meant to look like something. Whether it’s a plume of steam, magical smoke, or eerie mist, fog’s primary purpose is to be a relatively opaque, visible effect. Because fog – like haze – causes light scattering, it also has the cool side-effect of making light-beams visible. This side-effect, coupled with fog machines being traditionally cheap(er) and easy to find, means that there are lots of people who use fog primarily to make light shows more exciting. The uneven initial distribution is just shrugged off.

Haze, on the other hand, is specifically meant to NOT look like anything at all. “Ideal” haze is meant to be invisible until a light beam passes through it, and even then, the point is to see the light and not the stuff floating in the air. Haze is used to let lighting designers make the show more exciting WITHOUT having to deal with the initial clumping and cloudiness of fog.

In certain cases, these different characteristics are used together in complementary ways. For instance, haze might be used throughout a show for the regular lights, but a “liquid sky” effect might be desired at certain points. “Liquid sky” is a laser effect that relies on uneven distribution of atmospheric particles to create a stylized cloudscape. Since haze is so uniform, it isn’t much good for making a liquid sky. As such, fog would be generated only for the parts of the show where the sky effect is needed, with the haze running continuously throughout.

Clear enough? (Oh geeze, the puns…)


The Trouble With Mister Floyd

A proposal for a show that incorporates a live, Pink Floyd tribute act with dance.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

A while back, a friend paid me a compliment. She said that she would love to bring me out to where her ballet company performs, so that I could assist with the audio. She was sure it would be a great show.

(Thanks, Gina! I definitely think it would be cool to work with Ballet Ariel.)

One day, I was in desperate need of a project to do, and I hit upon the idea of melding a full-tilt, Rock and Roll presentation of Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” with a similarly full-tilt, dramatic interpretation of the story through ballet.

In the end, I couldn’t quite get the results I wanted by just using “The Wall,” so I pulled in other Pink Floyd songs to introduce themes that would motivate the characters in ways I found interesting. I’m still basically ripping off “The Wall” as it was presenting in cinematic form, just with certain tweaks and a different ending.

Here’s what I ended up with. My guess is that the show could be pulled off for about $250,000 – anybody have any rich uncles who love Pink Floyd?

The Set

The idea for the set is to have a raised area for “Pink” and “Floyd” to perform, which is backed by a large platform for the band. The band area is roughly halfway enclosed by plexiglass sound barriers, which keep the band mostly visible while reducing their stagevolume’s contribution to sound in the house.

It is critical that the stage be well braced. Resonance from the platforms could be a huge sonic problem otherwise. The band portion of the stage should be carpeted, to help absorb sound.

The cost to construct the stage will probably be around $10,000.

The thumbnails below link to full-size versions of the pictures.

The Lighting Rig

The lighting rig is a huge piece of the show’s “soul,” and is also the show’s largest technological element. It is meant to be a primary driver of the show’s emotion and pacing, at a level equal to the physical movement by the performers and the music provided by the band.

A certain amount of restraint will be necessary, because the temptation will probably be to overuse the rig. We do want it to do some exciting things, and to do those things fairly frequently – but not so frequently that the audience simply filters the light show from their mind.

The experiment inherent in the rig is that there is no traditional front-lighting. Everything is from the side and/ or above. This is something of a risk, but the risk can be mitigated by performing the show in a space where front-lighting is already installed. The key luminaires, FX devices, rigging, and video gear are as follows:

  • 2 Haze Generators
  • 4 Geyser RGB Fog FX Units
  • 42 SlimPAR 12 IRC Sidelights
  • 48 SlimBANK Over-side lights
  • 28 BeamBAR Beam FX Units
  • 24 Intimidator Duo Moving Heads
  • 1 Rear projection screen
  • 1 5000+ ANSI lumen projector
  • 95 4′ sections of Featherlite Truss
  • 20 Featherlite square truss connectors

These pieces, along with their associated control gear, cabling, and miscellaneous items, are estimated to cost $67,000.

The Complete Stage, With Figures For Scale

The FOH Audio Rig

Like the lighting rig, the audio system needs to be extensive enough to be “big,” but the temptation to overuse it will have to be resisted. To that end, it seems reasonable to set a goal of having 50% of the audience experience an average level of no more than 100 dB SPLZ, slow. (Ideally, 94 dB SPLZ, slow would be the upper limit.)

Specifics in terms of the audio rig are not as important as those of the lighting rig. Many different kinds of subwoofer could be suitable, for example. In general, the audio system should include:

  • 8, 18-inch subwoofers
    • 4 amplifiers
  • 8, 15-inch subwoofers
    • 4 amplifiers
  • 8, 15-inch LF full-range enclosures, biamped, for the main stacks.
    • 8 amplifiers
  • 8, 12-inch LF full range enclosures, biamped, for the main stacks.
    • 8 amplifiers
  • 4, 15-inch LF full range enclosures, single amped, for surround FX.
    • 2 amplifiers
  • 10, 12 inch LF full range enclosures, single amped, for various fills.
    • 5 amplifiers

This FOH audio rig, along with its associated control and processing gear, could be built at a low-end cost of $25,000. The high end cost, of course, is unlimited. The cost does increase considerable when a monitor rig, mics, and accessories are added, but these have been left out for brevity.

The Cast

The overall imperative for any cast member is to be able, and indeed, delighted, to perform in a “full-tilt rock and roll” show with a live band, atmospheric effects like haze and fog, as well as lights that move and change rapidly at times.

Floyd: The main character.

It’s absolutely imperative that Floyd be VERY strong at duet and solo work, and also able to emote in ways that will seem very concrete and natural to the audience.

Mother: Floyd’s Mom

She will need to be a good soloist, but even more important is her ability to work well in a duet. Like Floyd, she needs to be able to project emotions in a very obvious and relatable way.

Daddy: Floyd’s Dad

The most important thing for this cast member is his ability to act in a vaguely menacing (but still palpably unsettling) way towards Floyd in several scenes. He only ever appears as a ghost. Some competence as a soloist and in duets will be required, but deep experience is probably not necessary – unless the choreographer decides to create some technically challenging moments for him, of course.

Pink: Floyd’s best friend.

He mostly needs to be able to be convincing as a young person who is “partners in crime” with Floyd. However, there is one key moment, late in the show, where he will need to deliver on some key emotions as a ghost. This may be a good part for a dancer who is just ready to transition into duets and solos.

The Groupies: Two “hangers-on” who get close to Floyd and Pink, briefly.

Both will need to be able to project an obvious (but NOT overdone) sort of “average intelligence rock girlfriend” persona. The twist is that, in one scene, they must be able to project a marked prowess as they dance, sensually, with Floyd and Pink. The Groupie who ends up with Floyd will need just that much more emotional ability than The Groupie who ends up with Pink.

The Company: Everybody else. Certain characters may be drawn from the company pool, if necessary.

The company plays concert goers, teachers, schoolkids, regular folks, and so on. The cast members who are the strongest technical and emotional performers should be selected to fill the roles of Pink and Floyd’s teacher, the “undesirables” singled out during In The Flesh, and so on.

The Show

Note: This section is not consistent in terms of details. The really important things are
specified, but there is quite a bit that will have to be determined later.

The audience is seated with the main curtain down. House-light flashes and aural tones should signal 5 minutes, 2 minutes, and 1 minute to show.

The show actually begins with the house-lights up. This is to promote safety for The Company, because they enter through the house. As they walk through the audience seating, they should chatter excitedly about being able to get into the “Pink and Floyd Concert,” amongst other things.

The house-lights dim slowly. The Company should offer the appropriate banter like, “Oh, wow!” and “It’s starting!”

The house goes black, as completely black as possible without compromising safety. The Company goes silent.

After a few seconds…

Prologue – In The Flesh?

The stage explodes with color, light, and sound. Pink and Floyd have started their show. The Company goes wild (silently, as they’re now in full “dance” mode) and go up to the stage to give their rapt attention to Floyd.

[Important – after this point, unless otherwise stated, all cast members are always silent. References to saying things, shouting, narration, etc, are to be mimed or danced and not actually vocalized.]

Although what Floyd sings might be a little confusing, lyrically, The Company is completely enthralled and joyful.

At the ending and plane crash, The Company erupts in celebration…and then freezes at the climax of light and sound.

The screen reads: “Bomber Shot Down – Crew Missing, Presumed Dead”

The Thin Ice

Daddy, as a ghost, stands a bit upstage. Downstage, Mother comforts Floyd, “singing” the song to him.

The Company “ice skates” around Mother and Floyd. When the music rises, Floyd tries to move away from Mother and interact with the “skaters,” but Mother, frightened, clings to him.

Another Brick In The Wall, Part 1

Mother and The Company exit the stage. Floyd attempts to reach Daddy, but he keeps retreating from Floyd’s touch.

The Happiest Days Of Our Lives

The screen reads: “School begins at 8:00 sharp! Tardiness will not be tolerated.”

Floyd finds Pink, and they “go hide” somewhere to have an illicit smoke. They are of course, found by their teacher, who “shouts” at them to “STAND STILL LADDIE!”

The teacher catches Pink, but Floyd gets away and comes downstage to “narrate” to the audience.

As the music rises, The Company (some as teachers, some as students) enter.

Another Brick In The Wall, Part 2

This entire scene is Pink, Floyd, and the students having a passive-aggressive battle. The teachers should turn their backs to give the students the opprotunity to “shout.” (“HEY TEACHER! LEAVE THEM KIDS ALONE!”) The students should be just barely restrained when the teachers are looking at them.

As the scene closes, Floyd goes home and goes to bed. There is silence. Floyd falls asleep, and then Daddy appears as a ghost.

Floyd jolts upright.

Welcome To The Machine

Daddy shows Floyd a vision of a possible future life. In this life, everyone has been “good girls and boys,” and are now productive (but somewhat lifeless) workers in a factory. The work is boring and mechanical.

The screen reads: “Work begins at 8:00 sharp. Late arrivals must be pre-approved with form 86-T, and you must contact your supervisor, undersupervisor, and supersupervisor three weeks in advance.”

There are blasts of steam (actually fog) throughout the scene.

As Daddy “talks” to Floyd, he should whisper in his ears, move around him in an almost predatory fashion, and invade Floyd’s personal space often. However, at no point should Daddy and Floyd actually touch.

There should be a sense of mounting horror (on Floyd’s part) at the prospect of being put to work in the factory.

Time

Suddenly, the clocks strike. Horrified, Floyd watches as the factory workers fall over, lifeless.

The factory workers slowly rise, and help Daddy by acting out his “narration” of the song. At first, they move as carefree youths, but then seem to panic as the guitar solo comes in. An unseen terror is chasing them.

At the mention of the sun, they run out of energy and start collapsing. Less and less able to move. They seem to be dying off. Things seem to be falling out of their hands.

As the song ends, Daddy walks away.

Mother

Floyd wakes up, and finds his mother for support.

Mother tries to reassure Floyd. At first she seems successful, but as her parts of the song progress, it’s made clear that all she’s capable of is clinging to Floyd, preventing him from getting out of her sight.

At the end of the song, Floyd becomes abruptly repulsed. He runs off.

On The Run

Mother pursues Floyd, but can’t seem to catch up to him. Floyd links up with Pink, and they start to “write songs,” and “play shows” to The Company. Whenever Mother gets close, Pink, Floyd, and The Company always move on, looking cheery.

At the “boom,” the screen reads: “Pink and Floyd Song a Smash Hit!” The foggers let out a large, sustained blast.

Learning To Fly

Pink and Floyd perform their hit song to their adoring fans (The Company). Floyd seems free and happy, and The Company is ecstatic. The only one not seeming to enjoy things is Mother, who is unintentionally overwhelmed by the crowd and unable to get close to her son. She is essentially invisible to everyone.

(Mother’s part shouldn’t be too big in this scene – it has a dampening effect on the emotional tone, and this scene is meant to be one of the few really happy ones.)

Have A Cigar

The screen reads: “Pink and Floyd Continue Topping The Charts!”

Pink and Floyd are being wined, dined, congratulated, back-slapped, and buttered up by The Company as recording industry execs. In terms of formation, there are three areas:

The center, where Pink and Floyd spend most of their time.

The inner circle, where the execs are fawning over Pink and Floyd.

The outer circle, where the execs “talk” amongst themselves, count their money, and anticipate a very profitable future.

At the end of the scene, Pink and Floyd walk off, and are met by The Groupies.

Money

Pink and Floyd take The Groupies out for a night of partying. This scene should be very unambiguously about conspicuous consumption, and (at least) heavily imply that the characters fall into using alcohol and hard drugs. These are young people caught up in an imaginary-yet-real world where they can have anything they want. Pink should be noticeably more affected by his drinking and drug use than Floyd. The Groupies mostly act as starry-eyed hangers-on.

Young Lust

The screen reads: “Pink and Floyd – Are These The Girlfriends? Exclusive Photos Inside!”

The Groupies definitely want to hang on to Pink and Floyd, and so now they reveal their true prowess – sensuality. This scene should provide a great opportunity for The Groupies to show off movement that is an order of magnitude more fluid and technically impressive than what they’ve done before.

At the guitar solo, Pink and his Groupie run off, leaving Floyd and his Groupie to do a short, but intense duet.

At the end of the scene, the song ends and silence falls. Suddenly, the phone rings. Floyd picks is up, and reacts with disbelief, then shock and grief. He and his Groupie exit.

The screen reads: “Pink Dead in Auto Accident. Substance Abuse a Factor?”

The Great Gig In The Sky

Pink starts out bewildered. The Groupie is lying lifeless nearby. As the vocal part comes in, The Company enters as angels. They “wake” The Groupie, and escort both her and Pink to heaven. They both look apprehensive as they arrive, but it’s soon clear that they’re both pardoned. They go off happily, trailed by The Company.

Wish You Were Here

Floyd is alone and dejected. All he has to express is his grief in a lengthy solo. He is alternately lit dimly and in silhouette.

At the end of the song, Floyd sits down and switches on a TV. He becomes cold and distant.

One Of My Turns

The Groupie enters, and, oblivious to Floyd’s feelings at the start, does her routine of being fantastically impressed by the house. She tries to get Floyd’s attention, but becomes crestfallen as all her strategies fail.

Floyd begins his part in a self-absorbed way, seemingly oblivious to The Groupie. However, as the song’s intensity rises. He begins interacting with her.

The key thing for this part is that The Groupie does feel threatened by Floyd, but not in the same way as Floyd was threatened by Daddy earlier. Floyd is not a creeping, psychological menace. In fact, he doesn’t mean to threaten her at all – he’s dangerous because he’s suddenly gone manic.

At the end of the scene, The Groupie runs off in terror.

Don’t Leave Me Now

Floyd is now alone, and not by choice. The Company enters, but stands in a semi-circle upstage, their backs turned to Floyd.

At the guitar solo, The Company suddenly turns and tries to get Floyd’s attention. They are now fans, people who desperately want attention from the semi-mythical figure they’ve constructed for themselves.

At the end of the scene, Floyd becomes enraged.

Another Brick In The Wall, Part 3

Floyd angrily chases The Company away, rejecting everyone and everything. He is, briefly a very intentional menace.

Goodbye Cruel World

Floyd, with very muted movement, expresses his alienation.

Sorrow

Floyd spends this entire scene down center, brightly lit, with his head down. He moves very little throughout the lengthy song.

In turns, everyone who Floyd has hurt enters and “has their say.” Mother first, then The Groupie, then members of The Company as fans.

Daddy enters as a ghost, and moves close to Floyd accusingly. Pink also enters as a ghost, and is clearly unhappy with what’s going on. It should be clear that he’s not really upset with Floyd. Concerned would be more accurate.

Near the end of the scene, one or two members of The Company (as recording execs) come on stage and force Floyd to his feet. They are demanding that he keep playing.

The screen reads: “Can The Show Go On?”

In The Flesh

Floyd is still alienated, but gets onstage to do the show. The fans are less animated this time. They’re even a little confused – especially as Floyd says “Pink isn’t well, he’s stayed back at the hotel.” (Pink is very, unambiguously dead, and they know it – but Floyd is in denial. If this can’t be readily expressed through movement, that’s fine. Sometimes a few unanswered questions in an audiences mind are perfectly acceptable.)

As Floyd starts suggesting that people who don’t fit be put “up against the wall,” the fans very quickly (and frighteningly) go along with him. They reject, threaten, and throw out anyone that Floyd points out.

At the climax of the song (which is the end), Floyd runs off by himself. He doses himself with drugs, and falls asleep in the silence.

Two Suns In The Sunset

Pink enters as a ghost. He presents Floyd with a vision of the future, much like Daddy did. In this future, the UK is destroyed in a nuclear attack. Pink is much more sympathetic than Daddy, although Floyd is a little frightened of him.

Although the presentation of this piece is concrete, the intention is that the nuclear attack is a metaphor for the self-destructive behavior that Pink and Floyd have engaged in. The trouble is that expressing a complex and non-concrete concept like that is probably impossible, so we just have to leave things ambiguous.

Comfortably Numb

The screen reads: “The Show Must Go On”

In the silence, Floyd wakes up. He doses himself again, and then, in a daze, goes onstage to do a show.

The Company enters as fans. They are facing Floyd, and interact with him, but they are strangely distant and move slowly. Pink and Daddy enter as ghosts and observe. Daddy is disapproving. Pink is worried.

Near the end, Mother enters. She has finally found Floyd, and manages to get close. As the song ends, in the silence, Floyd waits for the crowd’s adulation. However, he hasn’t done what they want. They become angry, and try to get their hands on him. Daddy is egging them on.

Run Like Hell

Floyd is now the target of The Company. Daddy chases Pink away. Mother is pushed down and out of the way. Floyd’s star has now fallen completely, and the crowd wants vengeance.

Floyd is finally cornered, and roughly pulled to center stage.

The Trial

Daddy stands up-center. The Company enters and flanks him. They join hands, and “speak” with one voice during the trial, becoming a composite character. They slowly close in on Floyd.

The final pronouncement of the court belongs to Daddy. He suddenly separates from The Company and gets right in Floyd’s face. At the order to “Tear down the wall!” The Company sets upon Floyd.

There are flashes as the explosion sounds.

Outside The Wall

As the lights come up we see Floyd cowering. Downstage, we see Mother, who has fallen. Daddy’s ghost enters, and angrily tries to get his hands on Floyd. Before he can get there, though, Pink’s ghost heads him off. Pink gently beckons to Daddy, and they move upstage right.

The Groupie enters, and tries to help Mother to her feet. Floyd looks up and sees them. He approaches, and takes their hands.

A change comes over Daddy, and he follows Pink into a strong light coming from offstage up-right.

Fade to blackout.

Bows

The band begins playing an instrumental version of “In The Flesh?” They vamp the middle part as necessary to extend the piece.

If at all possible, each member of the cast should be given the opportunity to bow as an individual. After the cast has finished, they part to allow a good look at the band, who takes their bow by way of playing the ending to the song.

Immediate blackout – main curtain, house lights.