Corner Blocks

Corner blocks are one of the first things I remember learning about on day 1 of Stagecraft class in college. It answers the question, "What am I looking at?"

What Is a Corner Block?

Simply put, it's an info box that is drawn in the corner of a technical drawing, or draft, and gives you an idea of what you're looking at.

Info that's typically included will be the name of the show, where it is being put on, who is putting the show on, what scale this is drawn in, and if there are more drawings that complete the design. Here are a couple of examples:

How it's Used

If you were given a technical drawing, like a light plot or a ground plan with no explanation, you'd be awfully confused. Who is in charge of this drawing in case there are any questions? Where is this going when it's built?

"This is what you asked me to build. It's specified here, 18 inches."
Photo found at TheSkepticalZone.com

Now, if only there was some information so that the builder could have gotten it right the first time...

That's better!

BAM! There's our answer. There's our contact person. If the designer took the time and care to make himself available to the builder by simply adding this information, the builder would have known who to go to and had the means to get in touch before buying the materials and ask, "Are you sure you meant to write 'inches' instead of 'feet'?" Noticing a draftsperson's mistakes is critical to being a good builder, because it's not just about getting the job done, it's about making sure it's exactly what the client needs.

Let's take a closer look at what's involved here.

Below is a corner block that I used as a template when I was drafting all throughout college. I'll go through what each item is.

1) Theatre Company Name

Name of the organization putting on the show - High School Thespian Players? The Community Dramatic Arts Alliance? The Grand Fancypants Broadway Production Co.?

2) "Show Title"

Full name of the show itself - Anne Frank: On the Moon, The Music Man in ASL, Cyotes: The Musical

3) Author

Person who wrote the show

4) Draft Title

Is this a ground plan? Light plot? Front elevation?

5) Venue Name

Where this show is going to happen - Great Thespians' Auditorium? The Global Theatre?

6) Designer's Name

Who designed whatever this is?

7) Draftsperson's Name

Who drew whatever this is?

8) Checked

Has this been approved by anyone?

9) Date

How recent is this draft?

10) Scale

How does this compare proportionally to the real thing? What measurement on the page will equal 1"

Note: I don't know how scale is written out for metric use. But in the US it is most typical to make the scale relate things to 1 inch

11) Plate, aka Draft

How many drawings are there that make up the complete idea of this design, and which one is this in relation to the rest? This might be a scenic design that has front elevations, side elevations, a ground plan, and a sight line drawing; together those make up 4 plates, and this one might be the 1st of those 4.

12) The box outline

All of this information gets contained in one clean box. Nice and neat and all together.

It doesn't have to take up much space. The one I used is about 4"x4". Other people have their own designs that flatten it out and make it wider so they have more room for the actual draft. Some people's corner block goes straight across the bottom of the page, and includes much more information like the designer's contact info, their website, other companies involved with the production, etc. Do whatever you want and make it yours. Just be sure that it's consistent.

Hello!

Like a freshman on their first day of light lab, I'm excited to
be here, and I also have no idea what's going on. Photo credit: Jeff Greenberg

Theatre tech has been a great passion of mine for over half of my life.  I happen to be a lighting designer and technician professionally nowadays, but I haven't been an adult for very long, so take that knowledge nugget and everything else I say with a grain of salt. The things I write about here are my own personal account, and sometimes I get things wrong. One of my favorite things, though, is feedback and corrections so I can do better next time. 

As a Theatre Production major at a liberal arts college a few years ago, I had to take classes in areas other than my own, including stagecraft, stage management, and audio. After college, I had an internship which gave frequent seminars and master classes where I took copious notes as well.

All this time, I've had notebooks and folders and binders overflowing with the wealth of information I acquired, and now I feel like it can both benefit myself to type everything up, forcing myself to reread everything I originally wrote and add to it with what I know now, all the while keeping this information in a format which duplicates the hard copies in case they ever get damaged in real life; and it can benefit you, the reader. You might be a tech student doing some research, you might be an actor wondering how all this crazy jargon can possibly make sense to anybody, or you might have wandered over here by mistake. Whatever your reason for being here in the first place, welcome to my first blog ever. I honestly wasn't expecting any guests, sorry the place is a bit messy, but please, let me get you a drink and you can settle in.

About the name: Kick the House Lights

It references a story which I use as a reminder to myself that, 1) many of the greatest problem solvers came from humble beginnings, and 2) that all of us, no matter how great we get, face challenges in conditions that are less than ideal, and we all emerge from them with either a good time had, or a good story to tell later. If we're lucky, we get both.

The story was told by Chris Ashworth, the founder of Figure 53, a very prominent company which has made several industry standard programs that are used in theatrical applications around the world. Ever heard of QLab? That's thanks to him. He didn't start out with aspirations of designing programs that would have global implementation, though. He told the story at a regional USITT convention in 2011 of how early on in his career, he was the sound designer for a play in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and he described what it was like there. He said for an entire month or so, the city was filled with theatre and people enjoying themselves. That practically every available flat surface had a different play going on, and everybody was so happy to be there. His particular play was assigned to go up in a small bar in town. There he was, operating from the inside of what can only be described as a broom closet, with room enough for himself and the stool on which his audio console sat. When it was time to start the show, he was so scrunched in there, he could barely turn around to hit the light switch on the wall, but he could essentially kick the house lights and get the show started.

His delivery of this story and his whole keynote speech was so entertaining and inspirational to listen to. I found it so identifiable, because so much of theatre tech is about making do with what you have and making the best out of a situation. The audience can't tell what hoops you jumped through just to turn the lights out, or how long the director fought your artistic judgment on how a silhouette is supposed to look for that pinnacle moment in act II. All they see is magic. And we wouldn't even have the simplest of magic tricks if we didn't once come from the simplest of beginnings.

If you're reading this and you came here on purpose, thanks for being here :)