The theatre’s lighting and sound department employs around 20 people in total, including lighting and sound designers, lighting supervisors, sound supervisors, lighting technicians, assistant supervisors and the head of lighting and sound. The Main Stage alone has around 200 spotlights, half of which are motorised, as well as 600 dimmer channels and 900 relay channels controlled using GrandMA 2 lighting consoles and the Paradigm lighting control system. The Main Stage is also equipped with more than 100 loudspeakers. Sound is mixed using Digicon SD T-series consoles.
Lighting and sound can transform the atmosphere of a theatre performance in the blink of an eye. But what are they like as creative tools? What can lighting and sound communicate? And how do you become a lighting or sound designer?
Lighting can transform the mood on stage in an instant
In his early twenties, William Iles watched lighting designers at work at the Stoa Cultural Centre. It was the early 2000s, and Iles was completing his non-military service in Stoa’s stage technology department.
“Stoa hosted a lot of contemporary dance performances, and they always had really impressive lighting. It made a lasting impression on me.”
Having also been involved in theatre when he was younger, Iles was fascinated by how quickly lighting could transform the mood on stage—or completely change the entire stage picture.
“I also felt that I grasped the basics of lighting quite quickly. The building blocks are actually very simple: you have different kinds of lights, position them around the stage and use colour in different ways. Then you use the lighting console to determine which lights are on at any given moment. It was easy to understand and genuinely interesting.”
I was quite sceptical about how independently and freely you could pursue the artistic side of the work in a large institutional theatre like this. My concerns turned out to be unfounded.
After completing his non-military service, Iles applied to and was accepted by the Theatre Academy to study lighting design. During his final years as a student, he was already working as a freelance lighting designer around Finland: in Turku, Tampere and Kuopio, as well as at smaller theatres in Helsinki. Then he spotted a Helsinki City Theatre vacancy for a lighting supervisor with design responsibilities in Helsingin Sanomat.
“I was quite sceptical about how independently and freely you could pursue the artistic side of the work in a large institutional theatre like this. My concerns turned out to be unfounded.”
After a year, his title changed to lighting designer, and Iles is now in his eighth year in the role.
Lighting can influence us in many ways
Contemporary dance has remained particularly close to Iles’s heart as an art form.
“It made such a strong impression on me because it was so incomprehensible and strange. I still don’t understand it at all, but I’ve learnt to accept that it simply leaves me with an impression of something.”
Dance pieces often have more minimal or suggestive sets, giving lighting greater scope and a more prominent role.
“Lighting can emphasise very different things, and it has many functions. First of all, audiences generally want to see the performers. That’s the functional role of lighting in theatre. Lighting can also communicate concrete things, such as the time of day and the weather.”
“But lighting can also do more abstract things—even psychological ones. What kind of world do we want to inhabit? What else do we want to see, or not see? Why is one character illuminated particularly brightly on stage? Lighting can also communicate things on a subconscious level,” Iles explains.
“With every new production, it’s important to become immersed in the work and understand what it is really about. We have extensive discussions with the creative team and the other designers about what we are aiming for and what kind of performance we want to create together.”
A change of pace at live gigs
Iles has worked as a guest designer at the Finnish National Opera and, as he puts it, “flashed a few lights” at his friends’ bands’ gigs at Tavastia.
“It’s been great fun. You’re completely immersed in the moment. But I wouldn’t light for the camera. That’s a world of its own, and I don’t know cameras. In this job, I create things for my own eyes.”
When you work at the country’s largest theatre with some of Finland’s finest resources, it is difficult to imagine a better place to work within Finland. But Iles might be interested in working abroad at some point.
“It’s certainly an exciting thought. But right now, I don’t feel any great urge to go anywhere,” he says.
Sound is also a visual element
Eradj Nazimov remembers his first production at Helsinki City Theatre well, even though it was around two decades ago.
“It was a dance performance by Jorma Uotinen. It used recorded music, and we had to be able to read the choreography to know when the music should start, stop or change. Everything was done manually. I’m very grateful for that production, because it taught me how to read choreography on stage.”
“Uotinen had a wonderful way of combining the visual world with music,” he adds.
Nazimov has travelled a fascinating path from the mountains of Tajikistan to become a sound designer at Helsinki City Theatre. Music, however, has been with him throughout his life.
“My father was a famous singer. I’ve always felt the urge to play music. There is so much great music in the world.”
Riki Sorsa’s ‘Reggae OK’ was huge. Everyone danced to it!
His passion became a profession. While studying at film school in Moscow, Nazimov worked as a DJ.
“It was an interesting time. I even knew some Finnish songs well, because people listened to them in Russia in the 1980s.”
“Riki Sorsa’s ‘Reggae OK’ was huge. Everyone danced to it!” he laughs.
Russian television at the time also inspired him to combine the visual world with music.
“Television showed such stupid programmes back then! It was mostly news, and the presentation was quite impersonal. We would mute the television and play our own music instead. That was how we reinterpreted the programmes.”
A conduit for something greater?
After moving to Finland, Nazimov found it difficult to get work in the film industry. He ended up working for a company providing sound reinforcement and concert services, which also worked with Helsinki City Theatre. When the company’s technical director moved to the City Theatre, he invited Nazimov to join him as a sound technician. The year was 1989.
“I said yes, and I haven’t regretted it for a moment!”
Having started at the theatre as a “microphone boy”, Nazimov realised that he had plenty of ideas and a clear vision for creating the sound worlds of productions. Others noticed this too, and Nazimov eventually became a sound designer.
“Compared with 20 years ago, when sound design was more about adding thunder and doorbells to a performance, I’m now involved throughout the entire process.”
“A new production begins with a conversation with the director. You have to enter the world of the performance. But sound-related ideas are difficult to convey on paper or even through discussion. That’s why I begin by gathering all kinds of material connected with the production’s world: images from Pinterest, videos and music,” he explains.
Another important discussion is with the set designer. Sound comes from loudspeakers, and each of them needs its own place within the set.
Compared with 20 years ago, when sound design was more about adding thunder and doorbells to a performance, I’m now involved throughout the entire process.
“Sound is used in so many different ways in theatre. It’s completely different from a concert, for example. We have speech, music and special effects. Everything has to be in the right balance. We have more than 100 loudspeakers.”
Whenever possible, Nazimov prefers all sound to be produced on stage rather than played from a recording. He admires the way theatre is made and sound is used in countries of the former Eastern Bloc, for example.
“It’s simple and ingenious. I remember seeing Hamlet, where a row of men holding swords stood behind the fighters during the duel scene. When the fight began, they swung their swords and created the soundscape right there on stage. I think that’s much more powerful than playing the sound from a recording.”
Although scripts generally say nothing about the sound world, Nazimov says that he picks up their rhythm and atmosphere as he reads. The work becomes particularly interesting when he begins discussing the production with the director. The text starts to “come alive”.
“I believe in premonitions. I also give things time to happen. I try not to rush ahead of them.”
“Sometimes I watch my own productions and see how things have been done, but I can’t explain at all why they were done that way. I think it comes from somewhere above. I’m merely a conduit. There are never any explanations for why things have been done in a particular way. In the end, I simply watch the performance and think, ‘Wow, so that’s how it turned out!’” Nazimov says.
A one-hour musical mix condensed into one minute.
