Drama 16 Stage Lighting

2/17/15, 11:30pm, Intramural Fields

It was a FREEZING night as I walked back to Colonial Square from rehearsal. The intramural fields were quite a sight: Freezing rain had poured on the already snowy fields earlier that day. The result was an expanse of shiny, glazed-looking ground, riddled with footprints. 3 large lights on the field shown on the sorbet floor, which reflected their light all the way to the edge where the snow met the sidewalk. It looked welcoming but also deceptive: Three trails were lit to walk across the intramural fields, but anyone who fell for the trick of the lighting would no doubt slip and fall flat on his face.

1) 1/29/15, 10:30pm, Lounge of Nassau Hall

2) An outdoor light that was aimed at a tree created a shadow of the branches in the snow.

3) My lighting moment was wonderful. Everyone in the lounge thought I was a weirdo when I stopped my friends to appreciate the moment I was currently having. The intricate twists and turns of the trees branches was represented so clearly in shadow on the freshly fallen snow. The snow being white and slightly illuminated by the moon, created a beautiful contrast between the light and darkness of shadow. The source of light hitting the tree also created little glimmers of sparkles in the reflections of water droplets that had turned to ice, which hung from the branches. The effect was very haunting in a way that surprised me. Yes, it was beautiful. But the chaos of the way the branches were entangled, combined with the lack of color told a sad story. It felt like death, as winter often resembles.

1) January 26, 6:52 PM; Vanderpoel

2) The streetlights illuminated the street outside my window

3) Again, I was taking pictures of the snowstorm when I stumbled on an interesting piece of lighting. The road to Nassau/Suffolk and the parking lot outside of Lib/Rep was completely white with snow. The streetlamps were little balls of yellow light suspended above the road. Their stalks disappeared against the trees. The lights looked floating and magical and cast yellow light on the snow which diffused into an orange-purple color. A car drove down the road, casting blue headlights in contrast with the yellow light. I began to wonder about our different points of view. From my point of view, the lights seemed so pluckable and tiny. I wondered if the driver had enough light to see as he moved from light so shadow. I wondered about how we go through the day, using light from below the source and taking for granted that it fills up the air around us, while from above the source of light is so fragile.

1) January 27, 5:33 PM; Adams Quad

2) A tall tree casts a shadow with the light from Bits & Bytes.

3) The night after Snowmageddon, I left my room to take pictures of the aftermath to show friends and family. After wandering around North Campus for a while and not being impressed by anything, I walked to the south side of campus in search of some interesting shots. I cut across the snow-covered quad to get a more inclusive picture of the expansive white snow, but I was stopped by a breathtaking view of a tree outside Bits & Bytes. The light from the building was pale yellow and highlighted the snow with its warm color. The icicles hanging on the long Bits window blurred the view of the inside. It wasn’t entirely night yet, so the sky was royal blue and the branches of the trees that stretched above Memorial Hall were black and silhouetted, with pieces of yellow light getting caught in the web. The same yellow light shone on the base of the tree which cast a blue shadow on the snow. I snapped a picture excitedly, and felt my goal shift. Instead of taking pictures of the effects of the snow, I took more pictures of shadows and interesting contrasts.

1. January 27, 2015, 2:00 a.m.

2. The night sky

3. I was in the backyard of my friends’ house during the snowstorm. The snow had stopped momentarily and for several minutes there was complete silence. The smooth snow cover reflected the light from the sky. Although it was the middle of the night, the saturated night sky absorbed all of the light pollution from the city and the surrounding areas. The sky was a matte lavender color and there was a low, flat light covering everything.

1) Friday, 1/30/15, at 11:20pm.

2) A streetlamp in Colonial Square on a freezing night

3) I was doing a particularly miserable round of my complex, as I had the misfortune of being the RA on duty last night. One sight that almost made the frigid cold bearable was the poetic way that the streetlamp outside Williamsburg House, whose light was guttering and flickering in the wind, illuminated the path. Had there not been snow on the ground, the glow would have been lost on grass. It was eerie and desolate-looking, and reminded me of Grizabella’s song from CATS:

“Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning
Someone mutters, and the streetlamp gutters
And soon it will be morning”

1)Taken by my friend Ben, somewhere in Quebec, Canada.

2)Bare

3) This photo is of snow covered farmland. The trees and plants sticking out of the grass are desolate and dying. A storm was brewing overhead, leaving the sky grey and dismal. The muted colors and emptiness of the scene leave you feeling morose and solemn.

1. 2/12/14, 12pm, Outside Emily Lowe

2. Stepping outside from interior lighting into broad daylight

3.  Having been inside for the better part of four hours, my eyes were well adjusted to the fluorescent lighting of Emily Lowe’s all too familiar hallways and classrooms. However, I was unprepared for the blinding light that was waiting for me outside. I stepped into the blustery air, and was met by brilliant sunlight filling every corner of my vision, reflecting off of the snow and awakening my eyes to the world around me.

1) February 12 2014 8:45am

2) The sunrise and sunlight hitting the trees and buildings as well as reflecting off of the white snow.

3) As the sun was rising and the rays began hitting the snow, it looked almost as if the snow was a mirror. I could see the sky in the reflection of the snow and the world around me seemed unusually brighter than normal. Similarly, the way the sun was hitting the buildings and trees seemed to cast shadows onto the snow and ground causing everything to look much more 3 dimensional than usual.

1) 8:27 AM, 2/10/14, outside Liberty/Repulic Halls

2) Snow falling from a tree in front of a newly risen morning sun.

3) As a cool breeze blew through the air, the branches of the tree shook. From the crisp green pine leaves fell the dusty powder of a new snow. From behind, the bright, fresh rays of a new sun hit the snow, making the snowflakes look like shiny crystals falling through the air. The yellow rays reflected off of the snow around it, giving a golden shine to the buildings and cars in the background. The whole scene was surreal.  This is the beauty of winter.