If it is a human thing to do to put something you want, because it’s useful, edible, or beautiful, into a bag, or a basket, or a bit of rolled bark or leaf, or a net woven of your own hair, or what have you, and then take it home with you, home being another, larger kind of pouch or bag, a container for people, and then later on you take it out and eat it or share it or store it up for winter in a solider container or put it in the medicine bundle or the shrine or the museum, the holy place, the area that contains what is sacred, and then next day you probably do much the same again – if to do that is human, if that’s what it takes, then I am a human being after all. Fully, freely, gladly, for the first time.
(Le Guin 1989, 167–168)
This quotation is from the essay The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction by the American author Ursula K. Le Guin (1929–2018), who was particularly known for her work in speculative fiction, science fiction, and fantasy. Le Guin’s writings typically addressed society, gender, and politics, and she was especially renowned for bringing feminist and ecological perspectives to the forefront.
In her exploration of the “carrier bag theory,” Ursula K. Le Guin contrasts traditional heroic and hunting stories with this alternative perspective. Le Guin emphasises that early human communities did not solely focus on hunting and predation, as many traditional stories suggest. Instead of weapons, communities also used carrier bags to gather and preserve essential resources, such as plants and fruits. Social narratives have often concentrated on conquest and power, whereas the metaphor of the carrier bag highlights the importance of care, cooperation, and sustaining life. Le Guin proposes that these “carrier bags” could represent new forms of storytelling, which focus not on individual success but on the preservation of the community, culture, and ecosystem (Le Guin 1989, 165–168).
In this essay, I reflect on what kind of lighting design might fit into a “carrier bag.” Instead of the carrier bag, I use the metaphor of a backpack, as it more clearly conveys the notion of a journey and travel. To write a story about lighting design that fits into a backpack, we must first deconstruct the confessional backstory of the “hero lighting designer.”
Heroic lighting design can manifest, for instance, as preparing for the stage process with as many and as impressive lighting fixtures as possible, using the latest technological weapons. The “more is more” approach is typically a human reaction for lighting designers, drawing on experience to prepare for rapid changes in the artistic process – after all, light is a highly malleable material compared to set design or costume design. According to the traditions of lighting design, on the human-centred stage, the lighting designer must be ready to “spear” the performer through the mist from any point on the stage (Humalisto 2012, 223).
I grew up to become the kind of heroic lighting designer described above. I found my way into lighting design through my involvement in theatre as a hobby in 1998. Alongside theatre, I worked on technical event productions and constantly dreamed of having more lighting equipment and bigger productions. I was particularly fascinated by moving lights – the more moving lights there were on stage, the better. My dreams came true when I first worked on the lighting for a televised concert at the Helsinki Exhibition and Convention Centre in 2002. That same summer, I also obtained my truck driver’s license so that I could transport as many lighting fixtures as possible to summer festivals. When I began my studies at the School of Art and Media at Tampere University of Applied Sciences in the autumn of 2005, I was responsible for the lighting design of a show with over 250 performers on a stage the size of a football field at a local exhibition and sports centre. The creative lighting arsenal for the spectacle was suspended from the hall’s ceiling. It should be noted that entertainment spectacles have a specific role in society, but from my perspective at the time, my intent behind those lighting designs was unclear – the focus wasn’t on creating a communal event, but rather a kind of technological obsession.
As a heroic lighting designer, I believed that technology could solve artistic challenges: “No worries, this latest tool will solve that artistic problem.” Perhaps the biggest issue was whether the venue had enough electricity or whether the ceiling could bear the weight of the lighting rig. My driving ambition was to conquer the most significant performance venues, both domestically and internationally.
My heroic lighting design also involved illuminating stages without any substantial content justification. This often manifested as a forest of sharp-edged light phalluses or “wow” effects in fog filling the stage. The audience probably found it difficult to discern whether they were watching a theatre performance or attending a rock concert. As a lighting designer in my twenties, I would share stories in the bar about the latest technological weapons, such as the features of new lighting consoles and surviving challenging gig conditions.
In the autumn of 2006, my studies in lighting deepened through specialised courses, and gradually, I began to learn the basic skills of lighting design. My enthusiasm for spectacle and technology began to fade, replaced by an interest in light as a material, a universal phenomenon.
At the beginning of 2007, I started an internship at the Kiasma Theatre, part of the Museum of Contemporary Art Kiasma. The internship turned into a permanent position as a lighting director in 2008. In 2009, I graduated from Tampere University of Applied Sciences and started my Programme of Lighting Design master’s studies at the Theatre Academy of the University of the Arts Helsinki, graduating in 2015. I left my permanent position to pursue a freelance career at the beginning of 2018.
Kiasma Theatre was an inspiring workplace and a true crossroads in my professional life, a kind of “hub.” Through the job, I met many key figures in contemporary performance, both domestic and international, and I had the opportunity to collaborate as a lighting and video designer, set designer, and spatial designer. My CV grew at an impressive pace, and my “success” was guaranteed by my identity as a heroic lighting designer. As a heroic lighting designer, I was the first to arrive at the theatre in the morning and the last to leave at night, stretching my endurance and working long hours even after others had gone home. It felt as if my value, in my own eyes and in the eyes of others, was determined by how hard I had worked. My work was my identity.
In their book Kapitalismin suuri illuusio (The Great Illusion of Capitalism), literary scholar, comic artist, and activist Riina Tanskanen and doctoral researcher Samu Kuoppa, from the Doctoral Programme in Administrative Sciences, Business Studies, and Politics, shed light on how the roots of work-centred life can be traced back to the 16th to 18th centuries, when common lands were privatised, and the peasantry was required to enter service. In Finland, work was regulated by the Service Act (1664–1883) and the Vagrancy Act (1883–1936). The concept of work was further reinforced by Protestant Christianity – our society began to rely on the idea that all work is noble and that economic success is a “divine reward” for diligence. In their text, which traces the history of work-centred life, Tanskanen and Kuoppa refer to studies by contemporary researchers such as Melissa Gregg from the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, Australia and Mona Mannevuo from the University of Turku, who have examined the connection between economic discourse and Christian morality. Thus, a citizen is expected to work heroically throughout their life so that, in the end, their dedication to work will bring them “fulfilment.” The idle or lazy citizen is labelled “sinful.” According to Tanskanen and Kuoppa, today, work is motivated by love – the worker who loves their job and strives for self-fulfilment does not complain or grumble about trivial matters. When a person’s identity is tied to their work, the efficiency goals of the workplace more easily become the worker’s own stress. The goal is to create a worker-machine that, when broken, repairs itself (Tanskanen & Kuoppa 2023, 212–219). This is what capitalist working life demands: this is how you are accepted and loved. On the other hand, from a national perspective, post-war Finland was built through hard work, and this mantra was ingrained in me as a child of the 1980s by my parents. At the same time, I inherited the emotional repression and lack of emotional skills of the previous generation.
The narrative of passion work described by Tanskanen and Kuoppa also applies to the role of the heroic lighting designer. Based on the passion-driven work and the work environment that encourages it, vague production conditions were secondary to me, and it was not appropriate to complain about them – after all, this was the privileged life mission of the heroic lighting designer! Or if inhumane stretching and unexpected challenges arose during the process, the production would at least reward me with alcohol after the premiere for “saving” the work. Structural changes were not discussed; instead, any potential issues were washed down the drain with alcohol.
It must be said that, upon reflection ten years later, many contemporary performances that criticised the capitalist world and promoted a feminist worldview have, in fact, been some of the biggest manifestations of a toxic and capitalist passion work culture in their work processes. And I myself have contributed to maintaining this work culture, proudly wearing the mantle of the heroic lighting designer.
Rather than searching for answers to the anxiety produced by the heroic lighting designer’s work within oneself, it is also necessary to take time to reflect and recognise what kinds of attitudes and work practices have been inherited from previous generations of designers.
In their analysis of leadership, power dynamics, communication challenges, and the expression of emotions in theatre group work, facilitator, supervisor, and community theatre director Kati Sirén and sound designer Saija Raskulla highlight key issues regarding teamwork in theatre production. Their findings reveal, for example, the preconceived notions surrounding the roles of theatre professionals (Raskulla & Sirén 2023, 80). As a performance designer, I have often encountered the expectation that I should be available to the team around the clock. During my busiest years, I worked on five to eight different productions simultaneously, while a choreographer or director might be working on just one piece. Over the years, dedicating myself fully to a production and setting boundaries for my working hours has been a source of the most friction for me.
It is crucial to find time to pause and discuss what is expected from each member of the team and how much capacity each person has to contribute to the production process, so that everyone involved can be as well as possible. Where do the limits of each team member’s workload and capacity lie? For example, the publication by Helsingin Feministinen Salaseura (Helsinki Feminist Secret Society) offers guidance on addressing structures, hierarchy, power, responsibility, communication, and understanding one’s own role: Am I aware of my intentions? Am I aware of my impact on others? What does collectivity mean to different people? Do our structures serve our goals, and what kind of decision-making does our group practice? (Naukkarinen & Palo 2019, 59–60). What preconceptions do I and other team members have about each other’s professional roles? The biggest challenge may be ensuring that our commitment to a shared feminist agenda does not remain only at the ideological level.
Turning point
The COVID-19 pandemic is raging across the world, and it’s the morning of my 37th birthday in August 2020. Behind me lies a mentally exhausting workweek. I’m returning rented lighting equipment to an industrial area in Roihupelto, Helsinki. As I bend down to lift a light from the car’s boot, a sharp pain suddenly shoots through my back. It feels as though someone has driven a spear through me. A little further away, an accountant smoking outside his office sees me slowly collapse behind the car and calls out, asking if I’m alright. This time the answer is clear: I am not.
I lie on the Roihupelto asphalt, and the situation is entirely new to me. My work history includes hundreds of similar moments of moving equipment, but I’ve never had any physical issues like this before.
An ambulance arrives. The August morning of my birthday slowly drifts into a three-day-long, opioid-fuelled pain festival, with my fellow guests being elderly people approaching death, first in the Hartman emergency room and eventually on the ward at Töölö Hospital.
How did it come to this? Surely, this couldn’t happen to me, the “all-capable and flexible hero lighting designer”?
An MRI scan of my back reveals a common herniated disc between the fourth and fifth vertebrae. According to the doctor, it doesn’t require surgery, so the situation is to be monitored. The doctor explains that the herniation has gradually formed between the vertebrae over the years. So, with a prescription for painkillers, I returned to work.
After a few weeks of sick leave, I went back to work, driven by the same passion narrative, building a new exhibition. My back held up during the installation, but in October, while working at a festival, the pain returned, accompanied by anxiety. I sought help from a psychologist who had previously worked at a pain clinic, and during the first session, she correctly diagnosed the problem: the fourth and fifth vertebrae. According to her, this is a common area in the spine where prolonged stress manifests.
It felt impossible to continue working in the same way while the world seemed to be burning around me. The tangle had to be unravelled. The story of the hero lighting designer had reached its conclusion.
But the work had to continue. How could I approach it more lightly and sustainably, and break free from the “hero” narrative? How could lighting design embrace Le Guin’s proposed “carrier bag theory”?
At the beginning of 2020, I was invited by dance artist Hanna Ahti, dancer-actor Aksinja Lommi, and actor Iida Kuningas to join the creative team for the piece Svett (Sweat). The performance premiered on the Viirus Theatre stage on 11th November 2021. Svett was a co-production between Zodiak – the Centre for New Dance and Teater Viirus. In addition to Ahti, Lommi, and Kuningas, the team included sound designers Tatu Nenonen and Heidi Soidinsalo, and costume designer Piia Rinne. Our collective working group described the content of the performance as follows in communications: “In Svett (…) dance, theatre, light, and sound come together. It is a performance that focuses on the uninhibited body and a stage that reeks of existential sweat. The performance is based on the interplay of friction and flow – it is a crash in which things wax and wane again and again. It lingers in the now and with the ghosts that inhabit the bodies of the performers and the performance space. Svett is about celebrating and getting stuck, about surfing the waves of time” (Zodiak 2022).
The process for Svett began with remote meetings in April 2020, due to the pandemic. The first rehearsals were held in October that same year. In the aftermath of my back injury, I posed a question to the artistic team: could this performance have just one light, one that could fit into a backpack? Hanna Ahti also asked: could light be something one could “lean on”, and could light have its own “body”?
Inspired by Le Guin’s “carrier bag theory,” I decided to use lighting equipment during rehearsals that I could carry with me. I also considered how I might “gather” other lighting conditions, such as daylight or the stage’s work lights, to incorporate into the lighting and spatial design of the piece. Could limiting the tools used lead to a more eco-socially sustainable and lighter production?
Lighting designer Meri Ekola and scenographer-lighting designer Milla Martikainen, both of whom have also written on sustainability themes, engage in a dialogue about more sustainable performance design processes and their potential aesthetics. In her work Yhteis(ty)ö (Yhteis(ty)ö 2016), Martikainen highlights the use of daylight and bioluminescent fluorescent tubes that mimic it. However, for Martikainen, the visual stage image was not the primary focus; instead, the light material choices were guided by the sensory experience of the dog, which was part of the performance. Meri Ekola also reflects on the use of fixed light sources within the theatre space, such as work lights and luminaires that replicate their quality as part of the performance. For example, in Katoaminen – Passio (Disappearing – a passion 2021), Ekola and the creative team were introduced to the Stoa stage while the work lights were on. The team found this first encounter with the performance space to be conceptually significant and wanted to convey that experience to the audience through the fluorescent lights (Ekola & Martikainen 2023, 202–203).
Like Martikainen and Ekola, I aimed to use as much daylight and work lights as possible during the rehearsal process of Svett, as the content of the piece revolved around the “peripheries” of the theatre space – areas unseen or inaccessible to the audience but essential to theatre work. Additionally, I employed light strips that could fit into a backpack, which the performers incorporated into their work. We rehearsed Svett in several different rehearsal spaces. Light itself is an important tool for communicating mood, rhythm, and functional impulses. One portable light and a small dimmer were more than sufficient to achieve this.
The COVID-19 pandemic and government-imposed movement restrictions significantly impacted the rehearsal process in spring 2021. Due to legal constraints, the entire team could not work in the same space, making this an excellent opportunity to experiment with the potential of remote lighting control.
One April morning before the Svett rehearsal, I took a computer to Zodiak’s B2 Studio and connected it to the network. I installed the TeamViewer remote management software and a simple ENTTEC DMXIS lighting program on the computer. The B2 Studio was equipped with a six-channel dimmer and a few floodlights. After the team arrived at the rehearsal space, I travelled back from the Cable Factory theatre to my home in Töölö and connected to the computer in the B2 Studio using TeamViewer. Communication and video links to the rehearsal space were maintained simultaneously through Zoom video conferencing software. In practice, the TeamViewer software allows remote access to the desktop of the connected computer.
The test was promising. I could easily control the lights in Zodiak’s B2 Studio remotely from Töölö, with the delay being almost imperceptible. This raised the question of what it would mean to conduct lighting design entirely remotely. Could, for instance, the lighting for a touring show be controlled from a studio in Helsinki while the performance takes place in another city? Could I completely eliminate travel for shows and collaborate with a local technician or designer to manage the lighting remotely? What risks and challenges are associated with remote lighting control?
Despite these questions, the test proved promising and introduced a completely new tool for creating lighting, even though I wasn’t physically present in the rehearsal space. I will return to the possibilities of remote work in the fourth essay, which explores international collaboration without travel.
When the rehearsal period for Svett moved to the Teater Viirus stage in autumn 2021 and the simplified spatial design of the performance began to take shape, the idea arose that part of the set budget could be used to rent lighting equipment. I suggested to the team the idea of using an ARRI SkyPanel S60-C light (ARRI 2024b), which could potentially meet the artistic and technical premises we had set for the production.
We first rented the SkyPanel light from Valofirma Oy for one day to film the video trailer for the piece. During the shoot, the entire team was impressed by the soft quality of the SkyPanel’s light, and it was decided to rent the fixture for two months for the production. The SkyPanel was like an artificial sun.
Two key approaches emerged for using the SkyPanel, originally designed for film use, as part of a more sustainable lighting design:
- My goal was to replace 25 units of 1 kW Fresnel lights with a single 420 W SkyPanel. The common European lighting convention in contemporary performances involves even front and back lighting, with potential top-side lighting across the entire stage. If we take as a reference the even illumination of a 10 per 10 metre dance floor area in the Svett production, using 50-degree beam angle 1 kW Fresnel lights, this would require at least ten Fresnel lights for the front lighting and at least fifteen for the back lighting on the Viirus stage. (I have implemented several lighting designs between 2007 and 2017 based on this conventional lighting approach.) The SkyPanel has a beam angle of 120 degrees, meaning that a single SkyPanel can evenly illuminate the entire stage while maintaining the “neutral” lighting aesthetic typical of contemporary performances. Unlike conventional halogen-based Fresnel lights, the SkyPanel does not require plastic-based colour gels.
- Reliable background information is available regarding ARRI and the SkyPanel light. ARRI lights are built to withstand heavy use and are known for their longevity. The components of the lights are replaceable, and ARRI offers a dedicated maintenance programme called Certified Pre-Owned, CPO (ARRI 2024a). The lights are manufactured in Stephanskirchen, Germany, under strict testing protocols and quality control.
The October rehearsal period for Svett demonstrated that the SkyPanel light was in itself a sufficient and comprehensive artistic solution for the lighting design of the piece. Sticking to just one light also brought a much-needed lightness to the rehearsal period – I no longer needed to arrive earlier than the others or stay behind after rehearsals to focus or programme the lights. The stage working hours were aligned with the rest of the team.
Rough CO2 emission calculation for Svett at teater Viirus
The combined consumption of the SkyPanel S60-C, the Grand MA lighting desk, and other lighting equipment (such as passage lights in storage rooms and the kitchen) was about 600 W. We had 16 rehearsal days at Viirus, with the lights on for an average of 4 hours per day. There were 11 performances, each lasting 90 minutes including a warm-up. The SkyPanel was running at 100% intensity throughout the performance, with a 5-minute fade-in at the start. During rehearsals, the light was mostly at full intensity.
For comparison, I took the conventional lighting example mentioned earlier (5 x 1 kW front lights, four rows of 5 x 1 kW back lights), which totalled 25 kW.
Skypanel version
81 hours, 48.6 kWh x 74 g/kWh (Helen 2023) = approx. 3.6 kg/CO2.
Fresnel version
81 hours, 2025 kWh x 74 g/kWh = approx. 150 kg/CO2.
The lighting design based on the SkyPanel produced roughly 145 kilograms less carbon dioxide emissions than the conventional contemporary lighting setup using 25 1 kW Fresnel lights.
This calculation does not take into account the four Martin Mac Aura lights (260 W) used for audience lighting, nor does it consider the overall carbon footprint of the production. Other emissions were generated by transporting the SkyPanel from Roihupelto to the venue at Jätkäsaari and back, as well as by the continuous use of computers and the internet. I mainly travelled to Teater Viirus by walking, city bike, and metro. For the rehearsals at the Cable Factory, I had to use a car four times.
During the Svett process, a question arose: how much lighting equipment do theatres actually need to own? What artistic possibilities would equipment rental provide for a designer if the lighting setup could be partially or entirely rented? Would this also ease the burden of lighting maintenance and storage, as the upkeep of lights would be outsourced and the rental company committed to environmentally friendly practices? For example, Valofirma Oy, from whom we rented the SkyPanel, follows a sustainability plan, which can be read on their website (Valofirma 2023).
During the rehearsal period, there was occasional friction regarding the role of light in the performance. The SkyPanel created a smooth, revealing lighting condition. The light didn’t inherently support the performers’ work, guide the audience’s gaze, or distinguish what was important to look at and what wasn’t. Nor did it create illusions or improvise in the way the performers did. Instead, the function of the light became a work-like illumination of the space that was conceptually justified, as well as providing time markers for the performers through shared violet light signals along with sound. At the beginning and end of the piece, the violet light, combined with sound, created maximum tension and release. The lighting developed its own timed “score,” which the performers could rely on.
Since the lighting design was highly minimalistic and I shared responsibility for the dramaturgical aspect of the performance, there was significantly more time and energy available for collective negotiation with the rest of the team. The “backpack-sized lighting design” also enabled the role of the lighting designer to be redefined in relation to the directorial and dramaturgical tasks of the piece.
Throughout my career, I have found the process of adapting touring performances to new venues, travelling to those locations, and setting up the lighting under tight schedules to be extremely exhausting experiences. Touring hasn’t been environmentally friendly either, as a large portion of my international travel has been by air. It’s also worth noting that my heroic ego, with its massive number of lights, has itself contributed to eco-social strain.
Svett toured to the Spring Roll Festival at Nykytaidetila Kutomo in Turku in April 2022. The touring performance provided an excellent opportunity to assess the flexibility of the “backpack-sized lighting design” concept in the context of touring practices.
Firstly, the pre-production work only required a few emails exchanged with the theatre’s technical team and general discussions within our working group. During the tour, I found that a lighting design based on a single SkyPanel light was quick to set up and focus. In some theatres, the lighting skills of the technicians vary greatly, so rough focus instructions for the SkyPanel were sufficient. With only one light to focus, the process was fast. The quality of the light remained consistent across different venues because the lighting design required a specific fixture. The SkyPanel is a commonly used light in film production, making it easy to rent in different countries. Since the lighting design consisted of just one fixture, the concept allowed the working group more time to familiarise themselves with and adapt the piece to the stage space – technical setup often consumes much of the time during touring shows. There was no need to programme the lights, as lighting cues were pre-programmed in Qlab and triggered via MIDI through the sound designer’s Ableton Live software. The post-show teardown was also quick.
In practice, with Svett, I didn’t need to travel myself; I could negotiate and implement the lighting design with a local technician via a remote call.
The Svett performance at Kutomo was, in a sense, a “corrective experience” compared to the hundreds of previous touring shows over the past fifteen years. Since the lighting setup was quick, the entire team had time to rest before the performance.
After this successful lighting design experience, I began to consider whether I should purchase a SkyPanel light for future design work. Before making a decision, I wanted to research the background of the fixture in more detail. As mentioned earlier, ARRI’s website provides detailed information about the light’s lifecycle and the recyclability of its components, but there is no sustainability report available on the site. ARRI lacks information on several key issues, such as whether rare earth metals or conflict minerals are used in the manufacturing process, where the raw materials are sourced, and any potential societal issues related to these areas. What are the supply chains and their environmental impacts? In what working conditions are the raw materials produced, and is fossil-fuel-generated electricity used in production?
Since the required information was not available on ARRI’s website, I directly contacted the manufacturer via email in April 2022. In my message, I explained that I had used ARRI’s SkyPanel S60-C for the lighting design of the contemporary dance piece Svett and expressed my gratitude for the product’s exceptional performance. I also conveyed my interest in the environmental impacts of the light and sought to learn more about the origin of its materials as well as sustainability practices associated with it.
A few days later, I received a response acknowledging the growing importance of sustainability issues. The manufacturer mentioned that they are currently in the process of recruiting a Sustainability Manager, whose role will involve fully documenting all manufacturing processes and providing accurate information regarding the environmental impact of their products. They emphasised the necessity of ensuring that they can publish credible information that demonstrates their commitment to responsibility.
As a result, I decided not to purchase the SkyPanel light. As I finalise this text in December 2023, I revisited ARRI’s website to check the status of their sustainability report, but it still has not been published.
In recent years, however, lighting manufacturers have started to shed more light on their production processes (JB-Lighting 2023). Nonetheless, it’s important to scrutinise whether the data is reliable or whether it constitutes greenwashing by the company.
Lighting designers in theatres often serve as lighting directors and, together with their colleagues, are responsible for equipment purchases. While the industry is small, the community is tight-knit. How, then, can the lighting community better share knowledge about environmentally sustainable purchases? I would argue that if every lighting director in Finnish theatres committed to demanding sustainability reports for equipment purchases and took those reports into account during procurement processes, the effects would gradually reach the working conditions in the raw material production countries.
In theatres, ecological lighting thinking is often focused on low energy consumption, such as through the use of LED technology. However, it is equally important to scrutinise the production processes and lifecycle of the lighting fixtures.
Lighting designer and head of the lighting, sound, and AV team at the University of the Arts Helsinki’s Theatre Academy, Anna Rouhu, reflects on sustainable choices in relation to the lifecycle analysis of LED lights and the artistic process (Rouhu 2023). According to a lifecycle analysis, the production of LED fixtures requires more environmentally harmful chemicals and rare metals compared to halogen-based light sources. However, the same analysis concludes that LED lights are ultimately a more ecological choice due to their low electricity consumption. Rouhu’s article also highlights that as affordable LED lights become more widespread, the overall amount of light increases, which means that energy consumption does not decrease. This is referred to as the rebound effect (Rouhu 2023, 220–221).
Australian lighting designer Pringle Bronwyn suggests that a lifecycle-based classification system should be developed for LED lights used in performances. Such a system would help users, like designers and theatres, more easily select the most environmentally friendly devices (Bronwyn 2021, 185).
We are in the midst of a green transition, and theatre roofs are beginning to fill with solar panels. Large cultural institutions, including major theatres, are increasingly emphasising their commitment to environmental responsibility and sustainability (Finnish National Opera and Ballet 2023; Helsinki City Theatre 2023).
However, the use of renewable energy is not automatically eco-socially sustainable. A telling example is the 2021 report from Finnwatch, a non-governmental organisation that studies the global impacts of corporate activities. The report states that some solar panels sold in Finland are directly linked to the forced labour of Uyghurs. According to Finnwatch, five of the six largest producers of polysilicon, a key material in solar panel production, are Chinese companies, four of which operate in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region (Finnwatch 2022).
Postdoctoral researcher Alexander Dunlap from the University of Oslo notes that most people are blind to how mainstream “green” solutions reinforce and sometimes even exacerbate inequitable structures and production chains globally. For example, the raw materials needed for the solar panels and electric car batteries used in the EU and the United States are produced with fossil fuels under extremely poor working conditions in Africa and South America. According to Dunlap, our “solutions” to the climate crisis result in extensive mining, human rights violations, and conflicts worldwide. Finland is one of the most dependent countries in the world on international production chains, and the true environmental cost of the Finnish lifestyle is significant (Helsingin Sanomat 2021).
Environmental damage is also caused by the disposal of electronic waste. In a 2018 interview with YLE, senior inspector Hanna Nikander from SYKE (the Finnish Environment Institute) stated that approximately 5,000 tonnes of Finnish electronic waste end up in developing countries each year through illegal waste trade, despite the export being legally prohibited. The Finnish Customs and SYKE have worked hard to stop illegal exports (YLE 2018).
However, there are positive signs as well. The recycling of electrical and electronic waste has improved in recent years. According to the website of serkierrätys.fi, a joint platform for electronics producer organisations, up to 99% of electronic waste can now be recycled (SER-kierrätys 2023).
Additionally, the European Union successfully negotiated a new directive in April 2024. The directive imposes an obligation on companies to identify and address the harmful environmental and human rights impacts associated with their operations (European Parliament 2024).
Conclusion
Ursula K. Le Guin’s concept of the “carrier bag theory” provides a fascinating and philosophical framework for reflecting on the role and nature of lighting design: what kind of story do I, as a lighting designer, identify with? The discourse on environmental responsibility often relies on calculation models and engineering-based approaches. According to the Australian scenographer-researcher Tanja Beer, however, performance designers should primarily seek to turn ecological challenges into sources of inspiration and creation (Ecoscenography n.d.). I aimed to follow this idea in the Svett production as well.
But in what ways do I, through my work, perpetuate and uphold the prevailing capitalist hero-success narrative? Cynicism and criticism within education or an artistic working group can easily stifle individual sensitivity and eco-social values. Underlying this are factors like the constant competition for arts funding and performance venues.
Lighting designer Pringle Bronwyn points out that one of the biggest obstacles to environmentally friendly lighting design is a lack of time. In Bronwyn’s interview research, many lighting designers reported that they didn’t have the time within production schedules to explore and develop more sustainable lighting solutions – time efficiency and convenience often override environmental concerns (Bronwyn 2021, 192).
Although lighting design heavily relies on technology, it is the responsibility of each practitioner, regardless of the production time, to consider how “toxic” the technologies and practices they choose to carry with them are. Do they know how to ask for help with carrying the “lighting backpack,” or should something be left behind to make carrying it lighter? What kind of work opens up when lighting design becomes lighter? How does this lightness affect the designer’s identity and reshape the role?
Author Ville-Juhani Sutinen also uses the metaphor of a backpack to describe our relationship with a broken world. Sutinen describes how he has used the same canvas backpack on scout camps in the 1980s and, more recently, on multi-week treks in Greenland. Over time and through use, the backpack has worn out and has often needed mending. While it would be easy to buy a new one, Sutinen doesn’t bother. Instead, he has adapted to the limitations of the worn-out backpack – its straps, for example, can no longer support the weight of a fully packed bag, so it’s best to lift it by only one strap. For Sutinen, the old backpack is like the broken world: we can no longer fully repair it, and certainly not replace it with a new, better planet. So, we must learn to manage with the one we have. (Sutinen 2023, 17–19)
Sources
ARRI. 2024a. “Certified Pre-Owned.” www.arri.com/en/certified-pre-owned Accessed 16 October 2024.
ARRI. 2024b. “SkyPanel S60-C.” www.arri.com/en/lighting/led-spotlights/discontinued/s60-c Accessed 16 October 2024.
Bronwyn, Pringle. 2021. “Sustainable practice in theatrical lighting design: a designer’s perspective.” Theatre and Performance Design 7: 3–4.
Ecoscenography. n.d. “Ecological Thinking.” ecoscenography.com/ecological-thinking Accessed 16 October 2024.
Ekola, Meri & Martikainen, Milla. 2023. “A Conversation on Sustainable Practices between Two Designers.” In Kilpeläinen, R. & Humalisto, T., eds., Sustainable Choices – Potentials and Practices in Performance Design. The Publication Series of the Theatre Academy (Teatterikorkeakoulun julkaisusarja) 77. Theatre Academy, University of the Arts Helsinki. urn.fi/URN:ISBN:978-952-353-066-9.
European Parliament. 2024. “Due diligence: MEPs adopt rules for firms on human rights and environment.” www.europarl.europa.eu/news/en/press-room/20240419IPR20585/due-diligence-meps-adopt-rules-for-firms-on-human-rights-and-environment Accessed 16 October 2024.
Finnish National Opera and Ballet. 2023. “Vastuullisuus.” oopperabaletti.fi/vastuullisuus Accessed 16 October 2024.
Finnwatch. 2022. “Aurinkosähkön pimeä puoli.” finnwatch.org/fi/tutkimukset/aurinkosaehkoen-pimeae-puoli Accessed 16 October 2024.
Finnwatch. 2023. “Yritysvastuudirektiivistä historiallinen sopu EU:ssa.” finnwatch.org/fi/uutiset/yritysvastuudirektiivistae-historiallinen-sopu-eu-ssa Accessed 16 October 2024.
Disappearing – a passion (Katoaminen – passio). Tari Doris, Linda Fredriksson, Meri Ekola, E.L Karhu, Anna-Mari Karvonen, Kid Kokko, H Ouramo. Performance 5.9.2021 Stoa Cultural Center, Helsinki. Premiere 1.9.2021.
Helen. 2023. “Sähkön ja lämmön ominaispäästöt.” www.helen.fi/tietoa-meista/energia/tietoa-energiasta/sahkon-ja-lammon-ominaispaastot Accessed 16 October 2024.
Helsingin Sanomat. 2021. “Uusiutuvaa energiaa ei olekaan, sanovat tutkijat, joiden mukaan ilmastotoimemme aiheuttavat sortoa ja päästöjä köyhissä maissa.” www.hs.fi/maailma/art-2000008307638.html Accessed 16 October 2024.
Humalisto, Tomi. 2012. Toisin tehtyä, toisin nähtyä – esittävien taiteiden valosuunnittelusta muutosten äärellä. Acta Scenica 27. Taideyliopiston Teatterikorkeakoulu. urn.fi/URN:ISBN:978-952-9765-90-4.
Helsinki City Theatre. 2023. “Vastuullisuus.” hkt.fi/vastuullisuus Accessed 16 October 2024.
JB-Lighting. 2023. “Umweltbewusst.” www.jb-lighting.de/Nachhaltigkeit/Umweltbewusst Accessed 16 October 2024.
Le Guin, Ursula. 1989. Dancing at the Edge of the World. Grove Atlantic Press: New York.
Naukkarinen, Katri & Palo, Olga. 2019. Ajatuksia feminismistä taiteen tekemisessä. Helsingin Feministinen Salaseura.
Materiaalit kiertoon. 2022. “Kiertotaloushankintojen käsikirja – hankin.” www.materiaalitkiertoon.fi/fi-FI/Ajankohtaista/Uutiset/Kiertotaloushankintojen_kasikirja_hankin(63125) Accessed 16 October 2024.
Raskulla, Saija & Sirén, Kati. 2023. Me tiedetään kaikki et se paine kasvaa jossain vaiheessa. Teatteri 2.0 / Cultural and Theatre Association Kaksikko ry: Tampere.
Rouhu, Anna. 2023. “Greener Lighting?” In Kilpeläinen, Raisa & Humalisto, Tomi, eds. Sustainable Choices – Potentials and Practices in Performance Design. The Publication Series of the Theatre Academy (Teatterikorkeakoulun julkaisusarja) 77. Theatre Academy, University of the Arts Helsinki. urn.fi/URN:ISBN:978-952-353-066-9.
SER-kierrätys. 2023 serkierratys.fi Accessed 16 October 2024.
Sutinen, Ville-Juhani. 2023. Hajonneen maailman käyttöohje. Into: Helsinki.
Tanskanen, Riina & Kuoppa, Samu. 2023. Kapitalismin suuri illuusio. Into: Helsinki.
Valofirma. 2023. “Vastuullisuus.” valofirma.fi/fi/vastuullisuus Accessed 16 October 2024.
Yhteis(ty)ö (Community / Collaboration). Kati Raatikainen, Johannes Vartola, Milla Martikainen and Luka Raatikainen. Performances 30.3.–4.4.2016, Zodiak Center for New Dance, Helsinki. Premiere 30.3.2016.
YLE. 2018. “Euroopan elektroniikkajäte kertyy Ghanan romupihoille.” yle.fi/a/3-10472211 Accessed 16 October 2024.
Zodiak. 2022. “Ahti Kuningas Lommi Nenonen Rinne Salo Soidinsalo: Svett.” www.zodiak.fi/en/programme/svett Accessed 16 October 2024.