Last night, I watched a video presentation* about landscape photography. There were many great thoughts that I certainly consider beneficial for me to consider as a photographer. Some is a little boring with how basic it is - but always good to remind myself of the fundamentals. Some I knew (and can actually say that I've been attempting to apply) intuitively and is encouraging to me that I've been on the right track. Other ideas totally make sense as I think about them; and leave me itching to test them out...

One of the greatest takeaways is something that I can't help but doing in any field of my artistry: Never settle for a good shot; a great shot is there if you look for it. I know I often can drive my friends and colleagues nuts with my constant unrest as I search for the greatest degree of beauty. It's inherent to my personality and strength mix I think - an "unconscious competency" is a term that may be applied. Well, the presenter spent some time in the middle of the presentation discussing shot composition and I couldn't help but hear brilliant articulation of what I strive for in every artistic discipline I am involved in. Never settle for a good [mix or lighting look, or typeface, or whatever] but keep experimenting through rehearsal and find the great.

I'm often asked (actually more and more, I am blessed to be hired as a consultant for) my thoughts for how I approach production design. If you have been around me for a while, you have probably heard me talk about the "2° and the 2%". I am most concerned with the beginning of an idea - where there's the opportunity to point the concept in the exact direction where I see it having the greatest opportunity of becoming something amazing. This is the vision and the design stage. If you start the project in the right direction, you'll succeed more often than not. 2° of difference in compass bearing may not seem like much in the short term, but it can be miles away from the ideal finish line when it's time to open doors...

I also am charged up by the opportunity to finesse the final tweaks that give the magical touch. This is the 2%. It's the difference between good enough and inspiring; the difference between bland and profound. I'm often cited as having the eye for it. Perhaps I do have a special aptitude for the artistry of seeing what works and where an improvement could be made. However, I believe most of it is my work ethic. I hate settling for less than excellent. Excellence is making the most of our resources. If we have more time to give, we should use it to make the product better.

The analogys of "taking in the scene" and "seeing the light" are so great. We all have the potential to create something amazing. What resources do we have? How can they be focused on to help tell the story that is there? See the potential and figure out the best strategy for highlighting it. Then, never settle for a good [mix or lighting look, or typeface, or whatever] but keep experimenting through rehearsal and find the great.

I was actually running sound last night and one of my students asked me during run-through, "it sounds amazing, why are you continuing to make adjustments?" Two reasons: First, it's live audio; therefore the variables are always changing. The mix engineer has to constantly stay focused on how to best reinforce what's coming from stage. Second, if I'm going to be in the chair during a rehearsal regardless, why settle for a B+ when I could find the tweak that takes it to an A- or perhaps even an A? To me, the idea of settling for mediocrity is detestable. If you're going to be involved, be all there... Anyway, the difference between some of the really good photos and their amazing counterparts are the patience and persistence exhibited by the photographer who is disciplined enough to pursue capturing the epic image that we want to hang on our walls.

I often get asked questions about my thoughts on design materials and/or our production process. These are my responses to an email that I sent out yesterday:

I think big screens are fine so long as 1, you have the budget; 2, you have the stage space, 3, and most importantly if you produce content worthy of the space. I personally think they’re cliché and typically only put a screen in the set for events where we have a click-tracked music video that goes along with a live song. Regarding LED walls, the time has come when they’re legitimately worth considering: If you’re living in sets for a length of time, if you have a shallow stage, if you don’t already have a good projector, etc.

We still do at least two sets every week - changing our stage to uniquely support every event. I’m not sure it’s the way for everyone, but it continues to work for our context. If nothing else, it lets me exercise my own mind ;) However, doing a turn after every service is what maintains our volunteer team. Our typical turn lasts 75-90min to change from one stage to the next. A big reason why we can succeed at this is that it has become our regular workflow. Our volunteers don’t know that it’s not normal, so they just do… #process

We have a "tinker toy set" of go-to materials that I use to design from. Truss, fabrics, hard-goods, lights, etc. In addition to our inventory, I’m always on the lookout for materials that could catch light well. I file away photos and ideas in Evernote (and too often honestly, just the back of my mind #GTDfail) to recal later when I hear the idea that a material could be perfect for feel.

For the past few years, I’ve been creating stages form the "box" I determine for myself at the beginning of each series: I choose 2-4 materials that I will use as through-lines for each series. Then I use these in a different way to support the art and tell the story specific to each day.

Example is that for our current Midweek series (5 weeks talking about women from Scripture) I’m using a silver sheer fabric and our moving head profiles. We just finished a Weekend series titled "Walking Dead" where I wanted to riff on a post-apocalyptic, industrial vibe. I found about a dozen unused 4’x10’ cage pieces (used for storage in our basement) and set these up on stage with some rusty (or painted to look so) 55gal drums and some pallets - throw some gobo breakups at these, and you have a look. Then just change up the placement and it feels new each week.

The soft goods are an example of something we have in our inventory. I purchased a roll of this fabric for an event this past fall; now we can use it whenever we want. The cage pieces are an example of something I’ve been waiting to use for years, honestly. I just needed the right series, where they’d make for the perfect visual.

A majority of my church clients seem to like the idea of 3-5 really good sets over the course of a year - per season, rather than per series and perhaps with something special for Christmas and Easter. I think this strategy can be a good one. The main thing to consider is how they can be adapted to any special events that might need the space. Is it possible to close the main traveler? If living in an industrial, production based design, is it possible to create a look that can be tender and beautiful? There are ways to think through this and plan for such occasions. My main caution when living in a set for such a length of time is the potential "rats nest" of cable that can build up. Also, when a team is not regularly doing stage turns, it tends to take a much longer time; therefore plan on a day or two instead of a couple hours.

Also, make sure to consider your lighting inventory/plot. Poor lighting will negate even the best set; for that matter, good lighting will make an ok set look fantastic.