Posts Tagged ‘Fluorescent’

Lighting Observation #6

1) DATE-TIME-LOCATION: March 6th, 11am, Breslin

2) OBJECTIVE DESCRIPTION: The room is lit up by the fluorescents, except for one corner of the classroom where the lights are out.

3) SUBJECTIVE DESCRIPTION: Brightness. Painful brightness from the glow of the fluorescents. They’re like a needle for the eye with the pain they cause. But there is one glimmer of peace. The corner, the lights no longer shine. I take comfort in looking at that corner. It is a sight for sore eyes. I concentrate on the darkness and try to block out the shrill glow from all of the other lights. I can’t wait to return to the natural light that awaits outside.

Light Observation #3

  1. February 16 at 3:00 in a classroom in the basement of Breslin Hall.
  2. Bright fluorescent ceiling lights were the only source of light in the classroom; there were no windows for natural light.
  3. The artificial blueish white light shone harshly on the sleepy, bored students. In the dark concrete abyss that is that basement of Breslin Hall, the forceful lights made it look and feel like a prison cell—like we were trapped and time was passing slower and slower each minute.

Light Observation 3

  1. Wednesday, February 15th; 5:00 PM; Precision Urgent Care, Mineola
  2. Bright white fluorescent lighting
  3. I was sitting in the doctor’s office at urgent care, waiting for the doctor to come in and examine my jaw. The light made me feel very anxious, like I was somewhere far away from the warmth of home. It was warm in the office, but the light made it feel colder. I was filled with the desire to leave and go home, but the light made me feel like there was no escape. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm down and get away from the harshness of the light for a while.

Light Observation 6

1) Feb 16, ~10:30 PM; Winthrop University Hospital

2) Partially lit hallways

3) I was navigating the halls of the local hospital, of which I am completely unfamiliar. I was trying to find my way back to the entrance, and at each intersection of hallways I would look around to see if I could find clues to get back to the waiting room. It was the end of a long day and my contacts were getting fuzzy, so I wasn’t reading very well and had to rely on my memory of shapes and light to get me back. I noticed that my first instinct in my trip around the hallways was to take the most well-lit route. I was nervous about halls that weren’t well-lit. I felt like I had no place in being there. I got the same sense of nervousness when I passed under a section of lights that were off or had burned out. The trip made me think about how our sense of direction relies on light and how we can direct someone’s movement through the manipulation of light– even if the light never moves or changes. I also realized that visibility isn’t just an on/off switch that affects our understanding of the environment, but that varying levels of visibility can affect our emotional connection with our environment.

Light Observation #12

1. 3:50 AM, April 26, 2013 – Lowe 216

2. There are 14 fluorescent lights on creating a simply wash in the room with tints of green and yellow.

3. I feel sick. I am worn down and look ugly. When I look a my arms, its as if I can see my skin melting into my bones. The light pierces my pupils and blinds them. It is late. Very late. I struggle to sleep. I want to, but even if I had the time, the light is so strong, so present in the room, I cannot. There is no beauty. The way the lights fills the room, eliminates all happiness. Everything looks sickly, stuck in a dormant state. I sit her and push through the pain and emptiness of the fluorescent lights above, hoping for an end to this madness, thirsty for something good to look at.

Lighting Observation #5

  1. 7:15 PM, February 28, 2013 Westbury Mall Parking Garage
  2. Rectangular fluorescent lights shine over every three parking spots.
  3. As I sit in the car alone, I look at the deserted parking lot. Each parking space is empty, dimly lit by sickly pale green light. Looking at each barren parking space, I’m reminded of my loneliness. My solitude is as stark and cold as the light that slowly crawls across the cement floors of the garage. The emptiness of the garage matches the emptiness of my heart. The space is absent of all purpose, all presence. The light simply fills the void of darkness, but nothing more. visualization of my loneliness and quest for meaning.

Light Observation!

27 March, 2012
South Campus
Around  12:30 am

Phil and I are walking past the NAB. As we get closer, we see the orange fluorescence of the street lamps lighting up the trees along the walkway. The shadows of the trees are visible against the black of the NAB windows, swaying with the wind.

In general, the scene is rather sad. The spindly trees are haphazardly pitched back and forth from the force of the wind, barely visible at times due to the speed. The orange between the branches makes them look slightly menacing when they’re still, but they’re so thin that they look like they’re trying too hard. Their elongated shadows make them look even more slender, and aren’t always visible in the darkness of the  windows. It’s made even more depressing against the harsh, material, industrial background – the only trees visible in the area and they don’t stand a chance.

Lighting Observation 7

1) 2012-03-16 1:00 AM

2) A flickering fluorescent light in liberty hall coming through a small window and reflecting off of multiple sources

3)I really hate fluorescent lights.  I hate how artificial they feel.  I hate the sickish tone they lend to a room when they’re too cheap.  Most of all, I hate what they do when they’re getting near the end of their lives.  This one is close to the end.  The bulb next to it is already out, and this one cycles on and off every few seconds, stuttering back on, the off again.  But what it’s doing is rather interesting.  I’m working in the study room with the lights off, just my laptop and the laptop of the girl next to me.  The flickering fluorescent is just outside the door.  The door has one of those standard 8″ * 24″ windows with safety glass that you see on every classroom.  Through this narrow window, the flickering light comes in at just the right angle to hit the ultra glossy iMac in the study lounge, and can again be seen (barely) on the white board directly across from me.  I’m reminded of images of lasers and mirrors in a sort of lab… certainly not as focused and refined, but the same physics, just distributed more.  I’ve always liked the tricks you can play with lighting and mirrors.  Mirrors are seemingly almost impossible to use in traditional theatre given the position of lighting instruments and danger of blinding the audience, but there is a large potential for use in environmental and more experimental theatre that I think should certainly be explored.

Photo Observation!


THEME: Vibrant, Colorful, Saturated

After a few bland ideas, I remembered Coney Island being a big deal in the lighting world, as well as my own fond memories of visiting it once upon a time. I searched ‘Coney Island’ tags on tumblr and when this one came up I knew it was perfect. Not just because it fits the theme, but because of how alive it is – and it’s all unnatural lighting. Nathan’s has been around since 1916 (1), so it’s essentially a Coney Island staple. The landmark mentality of all things Coney is perpetuated by the fact that everything is pretty much still there. What I love is that that combines with the fluorescent and neon of the contemporary world to show that it has adapted, for all that it will always retain it’s classic Coney feel. This picture combines the carnival-esque innocence of what Coney was with the bright and busy of the contemporary world, showing that Coney Island has withstood time and will continue adapting as long as there are people around to appreciate the history.


Lighting Observation #17

1.) Thursday Apr. 7th 2011, 12:00 A.M. Behind Emily Lowe Hall.

2.) A flickering fluorescent bulb in a lamp.

3.) One of the three lamp-style fluorescent lights outside of Lowe 108 was flickering, and the effect was exaggerated by the reflection of the light in the raindrops as they came down. The lights have a medical bluish-white color, and so the flickering was reminiscent of a bug zapper in action. The effect had a rural, spooky feel, like something from a horror movie. It was disconcerting and very vivid. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the pattern and learn to ignore it, but eventually they did.