Our swiftly changing world is being shaped, in many significant ways, by technology. And it is not just the obvious things, such as the internet or means of transportation, or medical breakthroughs, that we are talking about here. Even areas and objects that seem miles away from the hand of technology are actually being greatly influenced by it, in no uncertain manner.
The performing arts in general and music in particular are one such area. Dance, music, theatre, have all been swift to use technology to enhance presentations and make them more attractive, in various ways, to audiences. This is one reason why the role of the humble “lightman”, for instance, has now been taken over by the more technology-savvy, more “aware” and perhaps more aesthetically-aware “light designer” in the case of dance and theatre. With the leaps that this particular technology has made in recent times, a dancer’s recital can be greatly enhanced by suitable and thoughtful lighting.
Indeed, many top dancers now request the services of a particular light designer for their performances, depending on the level of understanding and aesthetic perceptions of that particular master. Some even travel to concert venues with a specific light designer in the entourage. In this respect, light designers have become as important, almost, as the percussion player and the musicians. Just as the main dancer builds up a certain comfort level with percussionists and vocalists, and requests them as part of her troupe at a concert, the light designer who understands her art and her personality is definitely a person whom she would want to take along with her.
We have all seen lighting do wonders to a routine dance performance. Colour filters that add a hue that is in consonance with the Ras being portrayed are common. The more skilled among them bring in chiaroscuro effects to add a certain depth to a stance, or heighten a pose. Group performances can be marred by insensitive lighting, and conversely, heightened greatly through artistic illumination. It is imperative for light designers to understand what the artiste is doing. Just as the percussionist, after working for years with the main performer, anticipates the dancer’s thoughts and adjusts his own accompaniment accordingly, the light designer who works with a particular performer for an appreciable length of time anticipates and adjusts the lighting in the same manner.
Obviously, this aspect of a performance was not something that dancers of the past had to think about, or take into account. Performing in the light emitted by oil wicks must certainly have been limiting in a way they are not, today. No doubt the advance to Petromax lamps must have been a welcome development. And now, no highly regarded dancer will venture to perform at important venues without ascertaining the light arrangements there.
Theatre is perhaps even more dependent on the light designer than dancers are. It is common to have several separate sets on a single stage, which are highlighted and blacked out as required. Indeed, many contemporary plays take for granted the huge role that lighting plays in the production. The light designer’s importance is such that the director works closely with him and his team, for split second precision is often required to bring out a director’s vision to the full.
When it comes to music, it is the sound person, obviously, who assumes a hugely important role. Top bands and musicians of the West carry along their own sound equipment, with their own trusted group of sound engineers. Things are still simpler here, though this can cause problems for the musicians, too. Depending on the sound system of a venue sometimes leads to disaster, especially if the place is in a small town. The acoustics of many Town Hall type of auditoriums leaves much to be desired. Sometimes, the sound is thrown back in faint but perceptible echoes which distract, while at other times, top and base notes are absorbed, giving an impression of tonal flatness. There is also the danger of the dreaded “Cooing” of the sound system, that shrill screech that emerges from nowhere to ruin the most carefully crafted performance. The performer, especially a vocalist whose voice is capable of a great deal of tonal variation, is at the mercy of the mikeman, who sits presiding over the controls below the stage. If he is a person who knows his job and takes his responsibilities seriously, there is nothing to worry about. Sometimes, though, he sets his apparatus and goes off for a stroll or a chat, leaving the vocalist at the mercy of the machine, and sometimes ruining her performance altogether!
Actually, the mikeman, and the sound person have a more difficult time than light designers do. The visual performing artistes appear to have more of an appreciation for the subtle and the understated than aural ones do. For it is a given that most of the performers on stage during musical concerts in our country want to hog the decibels, almost all by themselves. The accompanist may be a “Minor Percussionist”, just jangling a tambourine here or tinkling a triangle there during say a Ghazal performance, but he is never content to lurk in the background. He will keep endeavouring to catch the eye of the sound person, and gesture to have the decibel level racked up higher for his instrument, making expressive gestures that nothing can be heard on the feedback monitor.
One can understand if a santoor player requests the volume to be turned up, for instance. After all the santoor is an instrument that cannot be heard in the back seats of an auditorium without amplification. But what about the group of lusty Qawwali singers? In their case, amplification in a non-technical way has already been achieved through the ages by the supporting cast of singers. Besides, their voices have been trained in such a manner as to carry into the furthest cranny of the auditorium. In fact, their performances in the open courtyards of Dargahs over the centuries were unaided by technological aids, yet they were heard by all members of the seething crowds who came to the shrine. The highpitched style ensures that their voices carry.
When the same supporting cast fills the stage with their electric presence, amplification is often redundant. Yet not only do they insist on having a microphone before each performer, they also keep gesturing to the person behind the console to turn the volume up. This brings on an assault to the ears that is quite stunning, in more ways than one.
In fact, it is a given that any accompanying percussionist starts his piece by indicating to the hapless technician to turn up the volume. This gesture seems to have acquired a consistency that makes it universally understood. If the main performer is an alert and assertive type, he will make sure that sound level of his own microphone is turned up to match. Often, he requests for more base, more treble, more echo, so that the gentle sound of the flute is turned into an aggressive invasion. But if she is timid, or is too much immersed in her own recital to be aware of the technicalities of amplification, the audience gets to hear her hardly at all. The recital becomes a kind of tabla solo, with the vocals a soft accompaniment drifting in and out of the performance in the background.
This kind of over-enthusiasm for heightened decibel levels during performances is now so routine around the country that it seems our ears have even come to expect it!
The performing arts in general and music in particular are one such area. Dance, music, theatre, have all been swift to use technology to enhance presentations and make them more attractive, in various ways, to audiences. This is one reason why the role of the humble “lightman”, for instance, has now been taken over by the more technology-savvy, more “aware” and perhaps more aesthetically-aware “light designer” in the case of dance and theatre. With the leaps that this particular technology has made in recent times, a dancer’s recital can be greatly enhanced by suitable and thoughtful lighting.
Indeed, many top dancers now request the services of a particular light designer for their performances, depending on the level of understanding and aesthetic perceptions of that particular master. Some even travel to concert venues with a specific light designer in the entourage. In this respect, light designers have become as important, almost, as the percussion player and the musicians. Just as the main dancer builds up a certain comfort level with percussionists and vocalists, and requests them as part of her troupe at a concert, the light designer who understands her art and her personality is definitely a person whom she would want to take along with her.
We have all seen lighting do wonders to a routine dance performance. Colour filters that add a hue that is in consonance with the Ras being portrayed are common. The more skilled among them bring in chiaroscuro effects to add a certain depth to a stance, or heighten a pose. Group performances can be marred by insensitive lighting, and conversely, heightened greatly through artistic illumination. It is imperative for light designers to understand what the artiste is doing. Just as the percussionist, after working for years with the main performer, anticipates the dancer’s thoughts and adjusts his own accompaniment accordingly, the light designer who works with a particular performer for an appreciable length of time anticipates and adjusts the lighting in the same manner.
Obviously, this aspect of a performance was not something that dancers of the past had to think about, or take into account. Performing in the light emitted by oil wicks must certainly have been limiting in a way they are not, today. No doubt the advance to Petromax lamps must have been a welcome development. And now, no highly regarded dancer will venture to perform at important venues without ascertaining the light arrangements there.
Theatre is perhaps even more dependent on the light designer than dancers are. It is common to have several separate sets on a single stage, which are highlighted and blacked out as required. Indeed, many contemporary plays take for granted the huge role that lighting plays in the production. The light designer’s importance is such that the director works closely with him and his team, for split second precision is often required to bring out a director’s vision to the full.
When it comes to music, it is the sound person, obviously, who assumes a hugely important role. Top bands and musicians of the West carry along their own sound equipment, with their own trusted group of sound engineers. Things are still simpler here, though this can cause problems for the musicians, too. Depending on the sound system of a venue sometimes leads to disaster, especially if the place is in a small town. The acoustics of many Town Hall type of auditoriums leaves much to be desired. Sometimes, the sound is thrown back in faint but perceptible echoes which distract, while at other times, top and base notes are absorbed, giving an impression of tonal flatness. There is also the danger of the dreaded “Cooing” of the sound system, that shrill screech that emerges from nowhere to ruin the most carefully crafted performance. The performer, especially a vocalist whose voice is capable of a great deal of tonal variation, is at the mercy of the mikeman, who sits presiding over the controls below the stage. If he is a person who knows his job and takes his responsibilities seriously, there is nothing to worry about. Sometimes, though, he sets his apparatus and goes off for a stroll or a chat, leaving the vocalist at the mercy of the machine, and sometimes ruining her performance altogether!
Actually, the mikeman, and the sound person have a more difficult time than light designers do. The visual performing artistes appear to have more of an appreciation for the subtle and the understated than aural ones do. For it is a given that most of the performers on stage during musical concerts in our country want to hog the decibels, almost all by themselves. The accompanist may be a “Minor Percussionist”, just jangling a tambourine here or tinkling a triangle there during say a Ghazal performance, but he is never content to lurk in the background. He will keep endeavouring to catch the eye of the sound person, and gesture to have the decibel level racked up higher for his instrument, making expressive gestures that nothing can be heard on the feedback monitor.
One can understand if a santoor player requests the volume to be turned up, for instance. After all the santoor is an instrument that cannot be heard in the back seats of an auditorium without amplification. But what about the group of lusty Qawwali singers? In their case, amplification in a non-technical way has already been achieved through the ages by the supporting cast of singers. Besides, their voices have been trained in such a manner as to carry into the furthest cranny of the auditorium. In fact, their performances in the open courtyards of Dargahs over the centuries were unaided by technological aids, yet they were heard by all members of the seething crowds who came to the shrine. The highpitched style ensures that their voices carry.
When the same supporting cast fills the stage with their electric presence, amplification is often redundant. Yet not only do they insist on having a microphone before each performer, they also keep gesturing to the person behind the console to turn the volume up. This brings on an assault to the ears that is quite stunning, in more ways than one.
In fact, it is a given that any accompanying percussionist starts his piece by indicating to the hapless technician to turn up the volume. This gesture seems to have acquired a consistency that makes it universally understood. If the main performer is an alert and assertive type, he will make sure that sound level of his own microphone is turned up to match. Often, he requests for more base, more treble, more echo, so that the gentle sound of the flute is turned into an aggressive invasion. But if she is timid, or is too much immersed in her own recital to be aware of the technicalities of amplification, the audience gets to hear her hardly at all. The recital becomes a kind of tabla solo, with the vocals a soft accompaniment drifting in and out of the performance in the background.
This kind of over-enthusiasm for heightened decibel levels during performances is now so routine around the country that it seems our ears have even come to expect it!
("Sruti", (the Chennai based journal of the performing arts) March 3013)
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