Helena Rakovich

I would like to experiment with experimenting – to find ways of starting work even before stepping onto the stage (as a rule, lighting design for dramatic productions is usually created between the completion of the set construction and the start of dress rehearsals – this is a very short period during which a finished concept and a swift, deliberate, pre-planned action is expected). When I speak of starting work, I do not mean work dependent on the technical capabilities of the stage; I would like to free myself from this way of thinking and consider what, as a lighting director, I can do for the process beyond the physical space, beyond the lighting plan on paper and beyond the physical aspect of this profession.  

Recently, I have become increasingly fascinated by the phenomenon of a blacked-out theatre auditorium – it is one of the very few spaces completely devoid of natural light, but also of artificial light, which in modern life is becoming more prevalent than natural light.

I would like to search within this ‘natural’ environment for strategies, tools and solutions that we have forgotten to bring into the theatre (or perhaps we have consciously removed them), to rediscover them, examine them and restore them, in one form or another, perhaps beyond recognition, but after all, inspiration and adaptation are also an integral part of the creative process.

I would like to step away from the theatre for these three months, so that I may return to it.

I am a lighting director, theatre producer and a graduate of a ballet school. I studied at the University of Lodz, Warsaw University, the University of Antwerp (Belgium) and the Aleksander Zelwerowicz National Academy of Dramatic Art in Warsaw. I was a scholarship holder of the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre in Vilnius.

Since 2024 I have been designing lighting for plays, interdisciplinary projects, music and dance performances in Poland, Lithuania and Estonia. As a lighting director, I have cooperated with Krzysztof Warlikowski and Felice Ross (Nowy Teatr in Warsaw), Barbara Wiśniewska and Aleksander Prowaliński (Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera), Piotr Pacześniak (The Kazimierz Dejmek New Theatre in Lodz), Maciej Jaszczyński (The Dramatic Theatre in Warsaw), Wojciech Faruga (The Collegium Nobilium Theatre), Jakub Zalasa (The Wrocław Pantomime Theatre, the Barakah Theatre in Cracow) and others.

In my work, I strive to focus particularly on exploring the relationship between the eye and the prefrontal cortex, as well as the neurological and neurobiological aspects of processing information provided by the organ of sight.

I’m concluding this residency stronger as an artist. I feel strengthened by the ability to give myself space to experiment, and capable of being and creating in a state with no expectations, no frameworks, no clear plan B — just plenty of unknowns. For an experiment to happen, one needs an unknown field to work in, and that field only opens up while the experiment is in progress. That’s also characteristic of the times we live in. I’ve learned to walk into the unknown with boundless trust in myself, and to see unlimited possibility within uncertainty.

I have also learned not to fear the space my art and I inhabit. For me, space is a system of relationships between people, nature, and technology. Theater is full of the human and the technological — and increasingly short on nature. I came to understand that every inner impulse and every image I have is born out of nature. Nature is always a co-author of what I make.

I’m coming out of the residency with a newly defined sense of my role as a lighting designer — one that isn’t just about making and creating, but also about expanding awareness and building context for the audience. The beauty of light is that it’s always present in our lives, everywhere; to have more of it, you don’t need to switch on another lamp — you just need to pay attention and start observing. The defining feature of the dark season is this: even in uncertain times, day follows it — that progression is inevitable.

The experiment doesn’t end here. It’s a state I want to stay in. I don’t want to walk a well-worn, paved-over path — I can choose smaller trails, or blaze new ones. I can wander, stand still, go in circles — and in the end, I can dance.