Let there be light
Only a little, though, says Tony Milne from Rough Milne Mitchell. Here’s his take on light emissions.
I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.
OG MANDINO
I saw this quote the other day. It reminds me of the anecdote of a father, naked except for his children’s Nemo (or similar) torch, which was providing illumination from its mouth that continually opened and closed, corralling his family to safety following the September 2010 Canterbury earthquake.
This quote also took me back 20 years prior. When flatting at Tonbridge Street we billeted a visiting Japanese rugby player. His name escapes me, but one evening unsure of where he was, and with worry setting in, we found him lying on his back on our front lawn. Mesmerised, he was, with the stars above.
He hadn’t experienced the clarity of the night sky before. We were able to identify the Milky Way, the pot, Southern Cross and other constellations. The extent of our new friend’s new knowledge was unfortunately limited by ours. Imagine if he was in Tekapo.
In June this year, along with three colleagues from Rough Milne Mitchell and a handful of others, we were lucky enough to travel to the light festival Vivid Sydney as guests of Energylight and ERCO. It was a fast trip, one day and two nights. Almost too fast for our host: a boat he almost fell off, a flight home he almost did miss. A Nemo torch he could well have done with.
By day we learned about the language of light. Ambient luminaires, grazing, lux and Kelvin(s). Before this trip, the only Kelvin I knew was our insurance broker. I now know Kelvin is a measure of the colour temperature of a particular light source. More importantly, research shows that the lower the Kelvin, spaces with warmer colour temperatures are perceived as safer places.
We also learned how light pollution affects ecological cycles. We were introduced to the plight of the Australian pygmy possum that inhabits the Victorian alpine environs. This little creature finds the Australian Bogong moth quite nourishing. The problem is that after 7000-odd years the moths are not making their post-breeding migration in their traditional numbers. It is thought light pollution from urban centres is waylaying and hampering their journey.
By night, less learning, more experience. The first night we did this on foot, exploring Barangaroo’s subtly lit sandstone foreshore; we ate burgers and drank beer. The second evening we enjoyed the lights from the waters of Sydney Harbour. An experience, that was. The Sydney Opera House and stone buttresses of the Harbour Bridge came to life, transformed through projected light into an outdoor night-time canvas of art. Mother Nature was the Vivid Sydney 2023 theme. Fittingly, the Bogong moth doesn’t start its migration until early spring.
Like a tall fence, a bright light is not always best.
03 366 3268 | rmmla.co.nz
