Lights, Camera, Teddy Bear

“So, what did you do in college today?”

“Played with teddy bears.”

This… is… Technical Theatre.

Q: Have you ever noticed how, when you’re in a theatre, you can usually see the actors’ faces?
A: Lights. If your answer to the previous question was, “No, actually, that’s never been my experience,” then I could understand if you probably didn’t care much for theatre.

Have you ever learned more about a specific subject than you ever thought you would? Have you ever opened a high-powered light fixture, closed it, and hung it thirty feet above the floor? (Have you ever read so many sentences in the second person that you thought you were reading a self-help manual?) Well, this is what’s happenin’ in TA 120: Technical Theatre. Let me get back to what I was saying earlier about the teddy bear, because I feel that’s slightly more interesting to slightly more people than light fixtures. (I could always be wrong, and I can appreciate those more technically-minded).

Here’s the situation: four groups each get a bunch (that’s a technical term) of lights and a teddy bear. Take these items and light the bear as if it were an actor in a scene using a line from a script. Use at least two lighting cues. My group got a line similar to “There is another side to me. I see myself… making pancakes.” Here’s the creative process: First, place the bear on a stool facing a mirror so that he can see himself and what he is becoming. We imagined the first line as something rather sinister, with mood of a darker nature. The message we wanted to get across was that the bear was contemplating another dimension, in a sense, where he saw himself as something better than the present. A “greener on the other side” moment, if you will. To effect this feeling, we lit the bear from behind, so that his face would appear, in the mirror, in shadow. We also draped white Christmas lights over the top of the mirror. They hung down in such a way as to give the sense of a portal to the other bear’s world. The next cue was for the line,  “I see myself…” so we added two lights to illuminate the bear’s face, one on either side to provide some depth. For the final cue, the terribly upbeat “Making pancakes!” we added two more lights, from above, to more totally illuminate the scene, drawing out the bear’s happiness into the scene. Still, though happy at the moment, the portal remained open throughout, leaving the possibility for reversion. So, one could never be certain as to the bear’s happiness. Was he actually happy to be making pancakes? Or was he only enacting the apparently happy role that he saw in the mirror? Deep stuff, through and through.

Just this morning we got the low-down on two kinds of lighting fixtures one might typically find in a school theatre or auditorium (or cafegymatorium). The first we call a Fresnel light, after Anton Fresnel (eponymous inventor of a lens, cut in a certain way, which allows the amplification of light with a small piece of glass). It’s essentially a light bulb (or, in a technical theatre term, a lamp), a reflector behind it, and the Fresnel lens in the front, through which the light streams on its merry way. It’s also got shutters, which can be important features if you want any variation in your lighting at all. The second type of light we looked at is what’s called an ellipsoidal reflector spotlight. With this style of light, one can move the lens toward or away from the lamp inside, allowing the scene a sharper or softer look.

All in all, a fascinating subject. Up to this point in my technical theatrical career, I’ve concerned myself mostly with sound, having set up and run mics and soundboard for various productions in high school and college, so it’s interesting to learn how the other stuff works. 

For other news, I’ll lay out some bullet points:

- Midterm in Astronomy (ASTR 001) and

- Exam in Statistics (PSYCH 105) both happened earlier today, and about both of which I felt overly confident. Time will tell…

- Radio show next Wednesday at 9pm on ROCU, in which I and the company of the Theatre Hyperion read the first two chapters of the radio adaptation of Douglas Adams’s “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”

- Filmed the first episode of CCNews with the Clark Cable Network, our school’s fabulous television station, today. Found out that liquid water may once have flown on Mars. #science (CCN production meetings every Tuesday at 9:00pm in the basement of Sanford Hall -- all Clark students welcome.)

- Next Saturday, at 8pm in Atwood Hall, I can be found performing an illusion in Clark’s Got Talent, where I’m going to attempt to saw someone in half.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to build a box.

So It Begins...

Introductions are traditionally a good way "to identify and present, esp. to make (strangers) acquainted." (There was never a time in my life when I felt like beginning a sentence with the phrase "the dictionary defines x as..." (and I still haven't), because said phrase is one of the most over-used and underwhelming in all of public speaking. I, of course, apologize to the large percentage of the readership who have used the phrase "the dictionary defines x as...")

My name is Curran, I am majoring in Psychology and Theatre (or, if I'm feeling whimsical, Theatre and Psychology), and this is my blog. I am in my second year at Clark University -- yay Cougars. (Now's probably not the time to go into how, in North America, the animals we refer to as cougars, mountain lions, panthers and pumas are actually all the same animal, puma concolor, but, then again, I just did.)

I have taken it upon myself to attempt to double major in Psychology and Theatre, and find these to be perfectly appropriate subjects upon which to write. Essentially what I'm doing with this blog is giving the reader a view through my eyes into the goings-on of classes pursuant to these areas of study (and others).

Before I get into what the individual courses are like, I'd like to give a brief overview of what the majors for Psychology and Theatre entail. (You may find yourself wondering why I write the word Theatre in the chiefly Brit. spelling and not in the American English, and why I constantly spell out Psychology instead of substituting the more common Psych. It's because I'm being pretentious.)

Psychology at Clark is a popular major. The American Psychological Association was founded here, Freud visited about hundred years ago, we have a statue of him, all that good stuff. The major requires seven classes, as well as a separate minor in "a related field", but don't worry yet if you think minoring in Art History isn't something that can be done, because "The related field requirement reflects the conviction of the faculty that all academic areas are usefully related to psychology and that understanding the relation between psychology and another discipline requires knowing that other discipline in considerable depth." (At this point I will admit that there's a part of me still clinging to the hope that I'll be able to squeeze in a French minor alongside the aforementioned stuff, and nobody's told me it can't be done (yet).) The seven classes include the standard (PSYC 101, 105) and the specialized (PSYCH 295: Social Science Research to Influence Public Policy). Right now I find myself gently floating on the cloud of PSYC 105: Statistics. It's like a crash-course in mathematics from 3rd grade through 12th. It's... invigorating. If you took Calculus (and, you know, passed), this class should be rather straight-forward. If, however, you failed Pre-Calculus and took it again in summer school when you could've been sleeping or, indeed, doing anything else with your time, you should be prepared to actually pay attention and/or seek help from friends this time ("Study buddy" isn't just fun to say, it's something fun to have. And, as for pride: get over it.)

Theatre (or, as the English say, "Theatre") requires a whopping 13 classes, which makes it one of the more requirement-intense majors. It consists of 10 actual Theatre classes as well as three non-theatre classes of another art (such as Art History or Screen Studies (Screen Studies: also known as the Awesome Department (though slightly less awesome than Theatre or Psychology... represent)). The way I see it is, the reason it has so many required classes, is to separate the kids who were just thinking of taking "an easy major" from those who're actually into theatre. "Oh, what's that you say? Many of these classes don't require textbooks? Sign me up!" Four weeks later: "I... can't... bare my soul on stage anymore..." The classes run the gamut from TA 112: Creative Actor, an almost strictly improv class, to TA 215: Stage Combat, to TA 153: Modern Drama, a class requiring the reading of some 25 plays in their entirety. I've got two completely different (yet related) classes from this department on my schedule at the moment: TA 120: Technical Theatre, and TA 212: Actor as Thinker, a class which could support its own blog by merit of the material covered.

Why do I do this to myself? Why double-major and maybe minor? Am I an over-achiever? Am I self-loathing? Maybe I was just bored, or I lost a bet and now I have to. Who knows? But, honestly, what else am I doing with my time? Life of a college student: Eat, sleep, study. (Mostly sleep.) The caveat upon which this whole triple-area of study thing hinges is that I decided what I wanted to do my freshman year. At Clark one has to declare a major at the end of one's Sophomore year, which is part of the reason most people only do one major (leaving time at the beginning of The College Experience for experimentation of an educative nature). Wrenches which could inhibit my plan are many, and include the fact that certain classes are not taught every semester, and there are specific classes I need to have taken to get the majors. But we'll burn cross that bridge when we get to it.

So, let's have a quick run-down of the first three weeks of school.

Psych 105: Statistics

This class is a struggle, pulling the strings of my heart between one of my greatest loves, psychology, and one of my most ancient nemeses, mathematics. It's not that I dislike higher mathematics, I just can't do them very well. I look at a lengthy math proof like I do a Picasso. I say, "Yup, got some meaningful stuff goin' on there..." and I back away slowly.

But we've started with averages (good ol' mean, median, and mode), which I remember from 3rd grade, and with which I'm pretty okay. I face the homework like Alexander faces a particularly tricky knot. By cutting it in half.

Memorable quote from this class: "You won't be tested on this; it's just sort of a thinking point." [Everyone tunes out.]

Instead, try: "The next thing I'm about to say will be the single most important piece of information you will learn from this class. It will be the difference between you getting an 'A' and living with your parents after college." [Everyone wakes up.]

Astronomy 001: Exploring the Universe

First, the course number. It's like saying, "We could not possibly make this class any easier." This is a wily deception. It's more like, "We could not possibly make this class any more fundamental." I'll just get it out of the way by saying that I like this class, so you can know where lie my biases when I say things like, "I suddenly want to triple major with Astronomy." (If I ever say this, may I please be peaceably restrained.)

Fun Facts from Star Class:

-- (From the textbook, pg. 18) "On average, the moon rises and sets an hour later each night." Did not know that.

-- Hotly contested issue: "The Moon Illusion": It's the way the moon appears larger near the horizon than when high in the sky. (True story, it does.) How to prove it's an illusion: Hold a coin up so that it just covers the moon at moonrise; then again a few hours later, holding it at the same length from your eyes. Or, take photos with your phone and compare their sizes.

-- The ancient Greeks knew that the Earth was round because they observed ships sailing off over the horizon, disappearing over it, and then returning the same way (not, in fact, falling off the edge of the world and being thrown back by space monsters).

-- The word "planet," from the Greek planetes, meaning wanderer. (Because the five planets they could observe were like wandering stars.) Furthermore, when you take this class, you will get up at obscene hours of the night (3, 4, 5am) to observe the moon and other astronomical entities. Your roommate will love you for it.

TA 120: Technical Theatre

If you ever wanted to build sets for plays, then have I got a class for you. The full scope of the class encompasses "a little of everything" involved in technical theatre, such as lights, sound, and, of course, set construction. The first quiz we took was on proper rigging knots. I got 100% and can now tie a square knot behind my back. This skill will prove useful someday, I just know it.

Also, I have a new-found appreciation for power tools. Pictures to follow.

TA 212: Actor as Thinker

It's difficult to put into words what this class is all about. Basically, it's that class you imagine really melodramatic actors took before they were kicked out and ended up where they are today. You know, the ones who insist they're artistes, instead of just the regular kind.

My professor, from part of a lecture on what I assume was finding a way to be so natural on stage that it grabs the audience's attention:

"I mean, imagine if I had a baby sitting on this table right now. You wouldn't be able to look away. It's not going to help you in this class. It's not going to get up and tap-dance. It's just being a baby. But you wouldn't be able to look away. I mean, what is that? ... If you can do what you're doing right now, on-stage, you'll be great actors."

He followed it up with this exercise: Half the class gets up to the front of the room. They're told to "act important." People raise their heads and stick out their chins, embodying stand-still swaggers. "Now act sexy," people put their hands on their hips and contort their faces into over-done winks. "Okay, now relax." People stand still, some in the pose actors refer to as neutral. "Now count the number of flat surfaces in the room." We do so, and, in the action, forget ourselves. Then the professor hits us with it: "You all looked ridiculous! That's not how important people act. Did you think you looked sexy? And you all looked really nervous when you were supposed to relax." The point was, if you can stop focusing on yourself, you can look and feel natural on-stage.

It might not be unfair to say that this class is the difference between having a career in a soap opera and a career on Broadway.

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Well, I'd love to type forever, but I've got a script to edit. Be sure to catch my new radio show every week at 9pm (Eastern Time) on Clark's own ROCU, where my co-host and I will read old radio dramas. First up, Jules Verne's "Around the World in 80 Days." You've got to hear it to believe it.

~Curran O'Donoghue