It was a dark night, yet just enough light spilt in from the next room to illuminate the white plug socket. Three of the six holes were covered by a safety guard: this was something off-limits, forbidden. Was it the danger that drew my hand to the switch? Or the promise of the light which lay dormant inside the bulbous night lamp, just waiting to be invited into the empty space, to fill each corner of the room with incandescent glow? I reached out into the darkness for the switch, and something clicked.

This was the moment that I first knew I wanted to turn on lights, sometimes. 

Flash forward (by way of a haphazardly timed blackout to cover the boring, unimportant bits) to a world of excited chatter and invented Camdram credits; to blown fuses, unsaved lighting software and forgetting to turn on the mains switch in the first place; to collective dinners, day-long tech rehearsals, kinetic warm-ups; and to me, sitting in a corner, more concerned with running out the door than running through any of the lighting cues. 

"We need to recognise the potential energy of the humble lighting techie."

To quote myself (because no one else will) on any opening night, “why on earth do I want to do lighting?” In some ways, it’s in my blood. I’m pretty sure that for the last three generations my family have been switching on lights. Or some residual negative energy might be left, reverberating through my veins, from that time I electrocuted myself with a string of fairy lights. Oh, eight-year-old me, you should have run from the light.

But truly, from the day we arrive on the planet, we, blinking, step into the sun. There is more to see than can ever be seen… and so many productions to make you feel well and truly done with the lack of recognition afforded to lighting techies. Yes, any person and many high functioning primates could do our job. But we need to open our eyes and recognise the potential energy of the humble lighting techie. 

Making music for LILY

Instead of encouraging children to switch off lights and think for themselves, we should be teaching them to waste energy and remain completely silent for hours at a time in dimly lit corners, following cues set by others! Yes, catch them while they’re young – before they realise that there is definitely a fully automated computer program which could replace this already rare breed, invisible save when an actor gestures vaguely in their direction as the applause dies: the elusive, strangely self-important, lighting designer. Without whom, we would all be left in the dark... at least, until someone else decides to switch on the lights